Prêt-à-Porter: Farewell, Robert Altman

Chaotic ensemble casts, interweaving tales, do things as independently as possible but get them done: in short, this is the arc of filmmaker Robert Altman (Kansas City, Missouri, 2/20/1925-11/20/2006), one of the great American auteurs.

My older sisters, as usual, led me to Altman's films, starting with MASH (1970), which hooked me into anticipating new releases as they arrived at theaters. I specifically remember seeing Nashville (1975) and the weird, sobering take on the American West, Buffalo Bill and the Indians, or Sitting Bull's History Lesson (1976), just in time for the Bicentennial. In between, time to catch up with McCabe & Mrs. Miller (1971) and The Long Goodbye (1973). It was clear even then that Altman was a fearless director, brave and bullheaded.

Other interests intervened, but I again picked up enthusiasm for Altman with The Player (1992), loving its cynical approach to Hollywood. And I closely followed a strong cluster of films before pausing exhaustedly: Short Cuts (1993), Altman's homage to Raymond Carver short stories; Prêt-à-Porter (1994), a hilarious sendup of the fashion industry that refreshingly ends with a lot of non-gratuitous nudity; and the bleak, brutal Great Depression film, Kansas City (1996), with Harry Belafonte and Jennifer Jason Leigh.

One of the things I love about Altman was his clear intent to make films for adults. He wanted all his movies, once the ratings were in place, to be given an "R," so that noisy ADHD children would not disrupt them at theaters. Given that I could always get someone older to take me, this suited me just fine.

I was never one to like Disney movies -- even as a child I knew they were bullshit. Give me the real or the cool, give me the adult take. The world is a dark place, though it has its lighter moments, and Altman showed them well.

Today's Rune: Breakthrough.

Viva Robert Altman!