A Prairie Home Companion

i see what u did in there, robert altman

i see what u did in there, robert altman

“Why are you crying?”
“Well it’s the last show, I’m never gonna see these people again.”
“You’ll see them again.” 
—
I quite literally cannot think of a more perfect final film than A Prairie Home Companion for Robert Altman. Spending the last month studying his filmography has been really special, and at this point, he’s undoubtedly one of my favorite filmmakers of all time. Robert Altman was a pioneer, an auteur, and an artist that consistently challenged Hollywood norms. His sprawling ensemble driven pieces are unique, and explore the human condition through distinct, and unforgettable characters. Everything about his distinguished directing style is enticing, and his relentless contributions to independent filmmaking make him one of the all time greats. 

A Prairie Home Companion was an emotional watch for me knowing it was Altman’s last theatrical film. The fact that it encapsulates most of his directorial traits that I hold dear made it so much more bittersweet. Altmans ability to intertwine musicals with character studies is one of his quintessential characteristic. I’ve adored how natural his work combing the two has felt since I watched his Magnum Opus, Nashville, for the first time. In terms of his ability to weave music and drama into two genres, A Prairie Home Companion comes the closest to Nashvilles polarizing success. Yet, what’s really special is that A Prairie Home feels like an accepting goodbye from Altman. 

82/100
***
***Notes to finish later: 
-Acting and chemistry is off the charts here, it really feels like we as an audience have indulged in this radio show for years. 
-the cast is so so dear to me. A lot of my favorite actors and actresses. 
-major ensemble character work, and a heartwarming script that states both the life and death in the eyes. 
-the music is magical, and the comedy is a major suprise here. This movie is damn funny. 
- Altmans ability to add so much character to a single location should be studied by film and theatre directors. Especially this film
-One of his greatest sound mixes of all time to compliment his career long commitment to overlapping tracks. If works do well with A Prairie.

“Why are you crying?”
“Well it’s the last show, I’m never gonna see these people again.”
“You’ll see them again.” 
—
I quite literally cannot think of a more perfect final film than A Prairie Home Companion for Robert Altman. Spending the last month studying his filmography has been really special, and at this point, he’s undoubtedly one of my favorite filmmakers of all time. Robert Altman was a pioneer, an auteur, and an artist that consistently challenged Hollywood norms. His sprawling ensemble driven pieces are unique, and explore the human condition through distinct, and unforgettable characters. Everything about his distinguished directing style is enticing, and his relentless contributions to independent filmmaking make him one of the all time greats. 

A Prairie Home Companion was an emotional watch for me knowing it was Altman’s last theatrical film. The fact that it encapsulates most of his directorial traits that I hold dear made it so much more bittersweet. Altmans ability to intertwine musicals with character studies is one of his quintessential characteristic. I’ve adored how natural his work combing the two has felt since I watched his Magnum Opus, Nashville, for the first time. In terms of his ability to weave music and drama into two genres, A Prairie Home Companion comes the closest to Nashvilles polarizing success. Yet, what’s really special is that A Prairie Home feels like an accepting goodbye from Altman. 

82/100
***
***Notes to finish later: 
-Acting and chemistry is off the charts here, it really feels like we as an audience have indulged in this radio show for years. 
-the cast is so so dear to me. A lot of my favorite actors and actresses. 
-major ensemble character work, and a heartwarming script that states both the life and death in the eyes. 
-the music is magical, and the comedy is a major suprise here. This movie is damn funny. 
- Altmans ability to add so much character to a single location should be studied by film and theatre directors. Especially this film
-One of his greatest sound mixes of all time to compliment his career long commitment to overlapping tracks. If works do well with A Prairie.

Fell asleep halfway through and I deserve it for watching movies when I'm sleepy

Fell asleep halfway through and I deserve it for watching movies when I'm sleepy

The death of an old man is not a tragedy.

Much has been said about the art of the perfect debut film, the first shot from an emerging artist that can in some cases immediately cement them as a premiere voice in the cinematic landscape. But arguably the trickier move to pull off is the perfect final film, the last piece from a master reflecting on their life and legacy. For a lot of directors, their final film comes about by happenstance, something that in retrospect is read as a last statement but at the time was only received as another title in their catalog. Then, there are those films that transcend and announce themselves as a true Coda: John Huston's The Dead, Stanley Kubrick's Eyes Wide Shut, Agnes Varda's Varda by Agnes, Ingmar Bergman's Saraband. These films are in some for another consciously about the act of making a final artistic statement, the heartache and ambiguity of the great farewell. Altman's Prairie Home Companion to me establishes itself as among the very best last films. A film about the final show from the titular radio program, Altman fills the stage on and off with ghosts and the ever-present spectre of a decades long work coming to a close. I was unfamiliar with the show outside of its cultural significance but Altman weaves its litany of bluegrass and folk songs with profiles of the men and women who had made the show the success it was making their final bows and mourning the loss of what once seemed impermeable. The success of this film like most great Altmans comes down to its ensemble who immediately establish themselves as a family now torn apart by the machinations of time and an industry that is eager to leave them in the rear-view mirror. Altman pays tribute to not just the show but his own unique brand of American cinema amidst a digital landscape of film and media that cannot compare with the system he emerged in. It's as perfect a farewell as ever put on screen and quietly tugs you into its heartbreak and sorrow. It's all one last show and then the curtains come down.

The death of an old man is not a tragedy.

Much has been said about the art of the perfect debut film, the first shot from an emerging artist that can in some cases immediately cement them as a premiere voice in the cinematic landscape. But arguably the trickier move to pull off is the perfect final film, the last piece from a master reflecting on their life and legacy. For a lot of directors, their final film comes about by happenstance, something that in retrospect is read as a last statement but at the time was only received as another title in their catalog. Then, there are those films that transcend and announce themselves as a true Coda: John Huston's The Dead, Stanley Kubrick's Eyes Wide Shut, Agnes Varda's Varda by Agnes, Ingmar Bergman's Saraband. These films are in some for another consciously about the act of making a final artistic statement, the heartache and ambiguity of the great farewell. Altman's Prairie Home Companion to me establishes itself as among the very best last films. A film about the final show from the titular radio program, Altman fills the stage on and off with ghosts and the ever-present spectre of a decades long work coming to a close. I was unfamiliar with the show outside of its cultural significance but Altman weaves its litany of bluegrass and folk songs with profiles of the men and women who had made the show the success it was making their final bows and mourning the loss of what once seemed impermeable. The success of this film like most great Altmans comes down to its ensemble who immediately establish themselves as a family now torn apart by the machinations of time and an industry that is eager to leave them in the rear-view mirror. Altman pays tribute to not just the show but his own unique brand of American cinema amidst a digital landscape of film and media that cannot compare with the system he emerged in. It's as perfect a farewell as ever put on screen and quietly tugs you into its heartbreak and sorrow. It's all one last show and then the curtains come down.

seeing both john c. reilly and maya rudolph in a robert altman movie is a reminder that we’re all living in a paul thomas anderson cinematic universe.

seeing both john c. reilly and maya rudolph in a robert altman movie is a reminder that we’re all living in a paul thomas anderson cinematic universe.