a stunning achievement, marred only by the overambitious impulse that led Altman to try to juggle nine stories instead of, say, six
Tools:
Recommend review to a friend »
There's a scene in Robert Altman's "Short Cuts" where a fleet of helicopters hovers before landing. But this film isn't about the Korean War wounded, which was the backdrop for Altman's "M*A*S*H." This time the helicopters are returning after spraying chemicals to kill a plague of medflies that threatens residents, both literally and metaphorically. This time he's filming the walking wounded of writer Raymond Carver's world. Sort of.
Carver's minimalist stories feature slender plots and terse, whiskey-clouded dialogue where most of the action and significant details aren't mentioned. The basic facts are left for readers to discern as they voyeuristically witness the lives of Carver's alcoholic, blue-collar down-and-outs who are typically at the ends of their ropes. Their spouses have just left them, or are going to leave, and they're out of work, or soon to be out of work because of the crap jobs they have to take to get by, jobs that make them drink more than they should. More than anybody should.
Carver was an alcoholic throughout his thirties, ingesting as much as a quart of hard liquor per day and having to be hospitalized or endure protracted stints in rehab four times. Like his father, he grew up in Yakima, Washington and had kids way too young, after which he was expected to work the sawmills the way his father did and drink to blunt the unpleasant reality of their existence. Carver's characters are for the most part lacking in education, inhabitants of small towns in the Pacific Northwest—Yakima, Washington, or Arcata and Eureka, California. They live in trailers, shacks, and modest homes. Not relatively comfy Los Angeles digs.
In "Short Cuts," Altman has taken nine of Carver's stories and one poem as inspiration for a film which weaves together the plots and characters while taking enormous liberties which were nonetheless approved by Carver's widow, poet Tess Gallagher. In "Short Cuts" the character's are transplanted from the Pacific Northwest to L.A., and from a lower economic class to the middle and lower-middle class. The characters now also overlap from story to story to create an ever-shifting collage.
Here are the stories he chose:
"Neighbors"—in which a couple is asked to look after their neighbor's place while they're away, and the husband develops a fetish for going over their with the key and snooping around, even trying on clothes . . . hers.
"They're Not Your Husband"—where a between-jobs heavy drinker stops in at the diner where his wife waitresses and reevaluates her after hearing men make jokes about her cellulite and varicose veins when she bends over to get something.
"Vitamins"—about a culture of door-to-door vitamin sellers and an uncomfortable evening that results when a male salesman takes a female friend he wants to bed to a mostly black club where a Vietnam vet comes on to her and things get tense.
"Will You Please Be Quiet, Please?"—where the marriage of two teachers (unusually high on Carver's occupational and economic scale) is threatened by the man's probing into an incident that happened three years ago.
"So Much Water So Close to Home"—where three men on a fishing trip discover the nude body of a young woman in the river and, not wanting to spoil their vacation, continue fishing, something that damages one man's marriage.
"A Small, Good Thing"—in which an over-protective mother orders a special cake for her son's birthday, then is tormented by calls from the baker saying the boy's name and trying to collect for the cake, not knowing that the boy had been struck by a car.
"Jerry and Molly and Sam"—about a man cheating on his wife who's driven crazy by the family dog and drives it to an unfamiliar neighborhood to let it loose, which, of course, creates turmoil in the household.
"Collectors"—where an out-of-work man whose wife left him is beset by a vacuum salesman insisting on doing a demonstration.
"Tell the Women We're Going"—about two couples with the usual unhappiness, where the men tell the women they're going for a run and end up running into two girls in the middle of nowhere, with disastrous (and atypically melodramatic) consequences.
And "Lemonade," a poem that gives Altman themes about death and dying to stir into the mix.
Obviously, Altman chose the stories for their flexibility and compatibility, and perhaps that's why some of Carver's most interesting and frequently anthologized stories—"Feathers," "Cathedral," "Why Don't You Dance?," "Elephant," and "Chef's House"—aren't included. But it's hard to figure why Altman chose "Collectors" over the more offbeat "Viewfinder" (where a man in a similar situation has a run-in with a door-to-door peddler with no hands).
If you're looking for a faithful transcription of Carver's stories, this isn't it. And when their lives seem so much better off (with the exception of Earl and Doreen, from "They're Not Your Husband") that it would take a while for them to slip down to the ends of their ropes, their actions seem more extreme, even incomprehensible. But my guess is that Altman never had to search for something to sell to pay for his next meal, or stand in line at a free clinic, and he might not understand the driving force behind the despair that Carver's characters feel. For them, their relationships are destroyed because of the drinking, which is the result of living a bottom-rung, dead-end existence. The characters in Altman's film are so upscale that Carver, who died of lung cancer in 1988, wouldn't recognize their situations.
Still, as a film, if you throw out the notion of faithfulness to the stories, and ignore Altman's maximalist treatment of Carver's minimalist tales (at 183 minutes, this feels WAY too long)—there's much to admire in "Short Cuts."
For one thing, you can't beat the cast. Andie MacDowell and Bruce Davison are excellent as the parents of the eight year old who was struck by a car, and Jack Lemmon turns in his usual flawless performance as the errant grandfather added for the film. Matthew Modine plays well opposite Julianne Moore, whose affair he dredges from the past. Jennifer Jason Leigh is funky as a housewife who carries on phone sex (another invention) while taking care of her kids. Robert Downey, Jr. and Chris Penn are believable as middle-aged men who bolt the minute they see two twentysomethings. Tim Robbins (elevated to a motorcycle cop for the movie) does a lot with his role as the man trying to dispose of the family dog. Lily Tomlin should have been fatter to play Doreen, but Tom Waits is the perfect Earl, who makes his wife go on a diet after men make fun of her body. Lyle Lovett is just as well cast as the baker (though Altman goes off the deep end with his phone harassment of the couple, which was more innocent in the story). And Frances McDormand does the Kathy Bates "brave" thing, baring herself for the cause as one of many unhappy wives, in a role that's much expanded from the scant two pages of Carver's fiction. Peter Gallagher also does a decent job as her vengeful ex-.
But it's Altman's cinematography, juxtapositions, and cinematic transitions that make "Short Cuts" a visual delight. There are overlapping characters, overlapping images and music, and even overlapping dialogue. The film opens with a sign warning of medflies, followed by a shot of helicopters dumping pesticides, then a TV announcer (who turns out to be the father of the boy who gets hit by a car). Take a "short cut" to another household, where the same news broadcast is playing, and we see Jason Leigh's character plying her phone-sex trade. And the background jazz vocalist we hear throughout all of this? Suddenly a scene opens up and we see the singer inside a jazz club, and later turning up as the neighbor to the newscaster. Such visual linkages persist throughout the film, with almost all of them highly successful. The cinematography is absolutely first-rate, with camera angles and cuts that enhance our view of the characters rather than calling undue attention to the filmmaker.
Average user rating (1-5):
[release]13836[/release]