GarrisonKeillor Tagged Articles at Cinematical

In the best of Robert Altman's ensemble pictures, his sprawling casts fall into a sort of miraculous rhythm. No matter how divergent their storylines might be, there's never a sense that actors aren't on the same page. In MASH, for example, not only are Donald Sutherland's Hawkeye and Elliot Gould's Trapper John completely in sync, but they also share a clear understanding with Sally Kellerman (Hot Lips) and Robert Duvall (Frank Burns). And in The Player, no matter how reptilian and icy Tim Robbins' Griffin Mill gets, he never fails to share convincing connections with every other major actor in the film -- despite its rangy story, never once does the movie feel like anything less than a coherent whole. By the same token, however, when things go wrong for Altman they go very, very wrong. Despite its world-class cast, Prêt-à-Porter is a sprawling mess, full of characters and performances that have nothing to do with one another, and a story that exists simply to give them all an excuse to be in the same movie.

While Altman's latest feature, A Prairie Home Companion, is by no means the aggressive disaster Prêt-à-Porter was, there nevertheless is something off about. Stocked with an all-star cast that includes Meryl Streep, Kevin Kline, John C. Reilly, Lily Tomlin, Lindsay Lohan, and Tommy Lee Jones, the movie never congeals into a coherent whole, despite a handful of heart-felt performances. Set backstage at an old-time-style radio show called A Prairie Home Companion (also the name of screenwriter-star Garrison Keillor's long-running show on NPR), the movie takes place during the show's final performance: The Fitzgerald Theater in which it is based has been bought out, and the new owners have no interest in hosting a radio show. As Altman is wont to do, he jumps back and forth among stories that include a pregnant stage manager (Maya Rudolph), lovers planning a tryst (L.Q. Jones and Marylouise Burke), an angel (Virginia Madsen) in search of a soul, singing sisters reminiscing about their careers (Streep and Tomlin), and a star uncomfortable with saying goodbye (Keillor).

A Prairie Home Companion is not a masterpiece in the grand, historical sense, but on its own terms, it's pretty much a perfect film. Scripted by Garrison Keillor, directed by the legendary Robert Altman, and starring a dream cast that manages to include everyone from the most nominated actress in Oscar history to the most gossiped about young starlet of today, the film's consummate professionalism oozes off the screen. This  – to see professional entertainers, not breaking a sweat whilst entertaining – should not be surprising, but the simple, classical ease of the thing feels like a revelation.

Coming off his well-deserved lifetime achievement Oscar and the warm, positive reaction his A Prairie Home Companion received at Berlin last month, the media buzz surrounding Robert Altman is higher than it's been in years (and years and years). It's no surprise, then, that Picturehouse chose this moment to officially launch its marketing campaign for his new film, which opens this June.

In addition to a reassuringly old-school poster, A Prairie Home Companion's new website features a trailer which, finally, give most of us our first look at the movie. As both an Altman fan and (this is really, really embarrassing to admit) a listener to the Garrison Keillor radio show on which the movie is based, I'm this movie's target audience, and the trailer had me eating out of its damn hand. While the film's ability to appeal to people unfamiliar with the radio show (meaning, probably, everyone under 60 who isn't me) is very much in question - that's what Lindsay Lohan is for - everything about the trailer struck me as perfect. The combination of Keillor's distinctive voice and the familiar faces of Altman's all-star cast create a very familiar, comforting atmosphere that is rare in American film these days. The trailer isn't trying to shock or challenge us, or even win us over - instead, it has the very unusual effect of welcoming us home, to a place where everything is just as we left it.

Wow, I can't believe I just wrote something that sappy. Such, apparently, is the power of the damn trailer, for those of us either mentally or physically over 60. Seriously. I just want to sit here and watch it all day (and then maybe take a nap, do some knitting, and watch Wheel of Fortune).

[via JoBlo]