Sunday, June 11, 2006

Movie Review part deux: A Prairie Home Companion

A TexasGigs review double feature

By Alex Bentley

A Prairie Home Companion

Director Robert Altman and writer Garrison Keillor join forces with an all-star cast to create a comic backstage fable, "A Prairie Home Companion," about a fictitious radio variety show that has managed to survive in the age of television. On a rainy Saturday night in St. Paul, Minn., fans file into the Fitzgerald Theater to see "A Prairie Home Companion," a staple of radio station WLT, not knowing that WLT has been sold to a Texas conglomerate and that tonight's show will be the last. Shot entirely in the Fitzgerald, except for the opening and closing scenes which take place in a nearby diner, the picture combines Altman's cinematic style and intelligence and love of improvisation and Keillor's songs and storytelling to create a fictional counterpart to the actual "A Prairie Home Companion" radio show, which has heard on public radio stations coast to coast for the past quarter-century (and which, in real life, continues to broadcast). The result is a compact tale with a series of extraordinary acting turns.

Source: Cinema Source

• Showtimes and more on A Prairie Home Companion

For better or for worse, Robert Altman is not a director for the masses. Consequently, his films are more apt to elicit a loved it/hated it reaction than most other directors. Some people can’t get enough of his sprawling ensembles who speak in nuanced, overlapping dialogue, while others look at the same thing and say, “What’s the big deal?” Personally, I fall somewhere in the middle; having come late to the party, I think that The Player, Short Cuts and Dr. T and the Women are fantastic, while Prêt-à-Porter and Gosford Park left me cold.

Altman’s latest, A Prairie Home Companion, seems primed to be right in his wheelhouse. Adapted from Garrison Keillor’s longtime radio show (Keillor also wrote the screenplay and stars as himself), Altman has recruited his usual stellar cast, including Meryl Streep and Lily Tomlin as the Johnson Sisters, Lindsay Lohan as Streep’s daughter, Woody Harrelson and John C. Reilly as Dusty and Lefty, two bawdy singing cowboys, Kevin Kline as the mysterious Guy Noir and Virginia Madsen as the “Dangerous Woman” who drifts in and out of the story. All participate in what happens to be the last-ever airing of A Prairie Home Companion, the theatre in which the radio program takes place having been purchased by a company led by Axeman (Tommy Lee Jones).

However, truth be told, not all that much happens in the film. Loyal fans of Keillor will probably lap up his down-home wit and wisdom and sing along to the sure-to-be familiar songs sung throughout. But, save for the odd and often confusing actions of Madsen (is she Death? A figment of Kline’s imagination? Who knows?), the film is happy to stick to the tried-and-true formula from the radio show. Okay, that’s unfair – Altman does add his stereotypical flair to the events, keeping the camera moving all around the theater and dialogue at an unceasing rhythm. However, shackled to proceedings of the show, even this fails to liven up the atmosphere.

All of actors do a fine job given the circumstances. Streep and Tomlin, as they showed in their priceless presentation of an Honorary Oscar to Altman at this year’s Academy Awards, are right at home as sisters who often seem to share one brain (and that’s meant as a compliment). Harrelson and Reilly also seem like they’ve worked together for years. Kline delivers his usual low-key but interesting performance, and Madsen is as mysterious as her character warrants. Heck, even Lohan puts on a good show. But, like Altman’s direction, they’re tied to a story that goes nowhere and has little, if anything, to say.

A film about the last-ever show in the history of A Prairie Home Companion would seem to call for the requisite play for the emotions of the audience. Curiously, that attempt is never made, and, as a result, the film fails to connect in any meaningful way. A strange summer release anyway, A Prairie Home Companion seems destined to get lost in the shuffle and, like its radio counterpart, fade away.

Also check out Mike Orren's take on this film.

See more stories in: