The title of Robert Altman's 1993 film Short Cuts is wholly ironic, here is a film nigh on three hours in length which doesn't necessarily 'cut' anything at all; indeed burrows into the lives of several people before showing mostly everything they get up to and what affects them. The film is a really engrossing drama centering on a number of disparate residents of Los Angeles round about the time of the film's production; a snapshot of warts-and-all living in amongst both the higher-ups and lower-downs of a city plagued by a heatwave; an insect infestation and, it would seem, the odd earthquake. Altman and his film take very few short cuts to anywhere at all, his film is just as interested in the catalysts of life that drive us to where we end up as it is the intricacies that unfold around these events with others we may already know. Take, for instance, a sequence early on involving a group of fishermen whom discover a dead body in the waters the're around; where another film may have picked up on that and run with it as a plot mechanism inciting causality, Short Cuts allows the men to take note of the situation before making a decision which allows the film to consequently revolve around something else other than a set premise. Short Cuts being of an ilk which will later explore how this decision they make comes to affect each of them and their relations with certain others.
The film begins with a physical placing of the audience high above ground level, a flock of helicopters equipped with pesticide late at night gliding through the sky so as to eliminate a recent pest problem which is plaguing the area. Beginning so high up enables the first shot of the entire film to be one of an establishing variety, the following three or so hours coming to revolve around what feels like all of those within the vicinity of this locale and a sense of power or establishing of power which comes with the ability to access such private tales in these people's lives. The film goes on to flit from a pool cleaner named Jerry Kaiser, played by Chris Penn; to a limousine driver Tom Waits' Earl Piggot; to Robert Downey Jr.'s layabout Bill Bush whom takes a swig from a beer can during breakfast as well as a large proportion of others all mingling in and around what appears to be an individual block.
To list every actor or actress and their role would be beside the point, needless to say, the film isn't so much preoccupied with the gimmick that their lives and existences should become entwined, as much as it is the thematics of each of their tales that are eerily similar to everyone else's; the overlying idea that regardless of age; gender; marital situation or class distinction: death, or loss, affects us all and the ingredient of deconstructing these characters' attitudes towards sex or love keeps the film on that so-called path seeing it explore the two things humankind is apparently so fascinated by - the thesis or pitch makes the film sound terribly self-important; it is, in actuality, anything but. Altman's bounding from person to person; from character to character; from family to family is enthralling, the staying with each bunch of characters for what feels like the minimal of time before heading onto the next port of call somehow manages to get across as much in the way of development and a feel for who these people successfully executed with the smallest of hassle in the shortest span of time possible.
Altman produces amusing transitions which propel us from tale to tale, his ability as a director to link or build bridges between seemingly disparate sequences away from core thematics works wonderfully. A glass of milk sits idly on the side in a room, specifically for Ann Finnigan's (MacDowell) son Casey whom was hit by Doreen Piggot's (Tomlin) car but got up and merely walked home in shock; a cut later, we're on another class of milk in somebody else's house – that of the husband, Earl, whose wife it is that hit the child. The television in Earl's house speaks of accidents happening and that care ought to be taken; the-then leaping to the three fishermen and their continual ignoring, for now, of a dead body sees us effortlessly transit back into the city and young cellist Zoe (Singer) whom lies face down in a swimming pool in a state of mock-drowning.
Where Zoe's tale comes to lead us, as she struggles to hold down a basic relationship with her mother Tess (Ross), sees these seeds that are planted of a very ominous kind. Tess is a singer, Zoe a musician and yet despite sharing that musical connection in their practical loves, are tragically unable to do so as a mother-daughter unit. The film is a really fine exploration of the bonds, however shaky, an array of people have with one another be they friendships, parental, marital or even a child's fondness for a dog another member of the family despises. Short Cuts is expertly acted; wonderfully directed by a man flitting between an array of varying people with different problems linked by a common thematic and remarkably paced for a film of its length – certainly worth seeing.
The film begins with a physical placing of the audience high above ground level, a flock of helicopters equipped with pesticide late at night gliding through the sky so as to eliminate a recent pest problem which is plaguing the area. Beginning so high up enables the first shot of the entire film to be one of an establishing variety, the following three or so hours coming to revolve around what feels like all of those within the vicinity of this locale and a sense of power or establishing of power which comes with the ability to access such private tales in these people's lives. The film goes on to flit from a pool cleaner named Jerry Kaiser, played by Chris Penn; to a limousine driver Tom Waits' Earl Piggot; to Robert Downey Jr.'s layabout Bill Bush whom takes a swig from a beer can during breakfast as well as a large proportion of others all mingling in and around what appears to be an individual block.
To list every actor or actress and their role would be beside the point, needless to say, the film isn't so much preoccupied with the gimmick that their lives and existences should become entwined, as much as it is the thematics of each of their tales that are eerily similar to everyone else's; the overlying idea that regardless of age; gender; marital situation or class distinction: death, or loss, affects us all and the ingredient of deconstructing these characters' attitudes towards sex or love keeps the film on that so-called path seeing it explore the two things humankind is apparently so fascinated by - the thesis or pitch makes the film sound terribly self-important; it is, in actuality, anything but. Altman's bounding from person to person; from character to character; from family to family is enthralling, the staying with each bunch of characters for what feels like the minimal of time before heading onto the next port of call somehow manages to get across as much in the way of development and a feel for who these people successfully executed with the smallest of hassle in the shortest span of time possible.
Altman produces amusing transitions which propel us from tale to tale, his ability as a director to link or build bridges between seemingly disparate sequences away from core thematics works wonderfully. A glass of milk sits idly on the side in a room, specifically for Ann Finnigan's (MacDowell) son Casey whom was hit by Doreen Piggot's (Tomlin) car but got up and merely walked home in shock; a cut later, we're on another class of milk in somebody else's house – that of the husband, Earl, whose wife it is that hit the child. The television in Earl's house speaks of accidents happening and that care ought to be taken; the-then leaping to the three fishermen and their continual ignoring, for now, of a dead body sees us effortlessly transit back into the city and young cellist Zoe (Singer) whom lies face down in a swimming pool in a state of mock-drowning.
Where Zoe's tale comes to lead us, as she struggles to hold down a basic relationship with her mother Tess (Ross), sees these seeds that are planted of a very ominous kind. Tess is a singer, Zoe a musician and yet despite sharing that musical connection in their practical loves, are tragically unable to do so as a mother-daughter unit. The film is a really fine exploration of the bonds, however shaky, an array of people have with one another be they friendships, parental, marital or even a child's fondness for a dog another member of the family despises. Short Cuts is expertly acted; wonderfully directed by a man flitting between an array of varying people with different problems linked by a common thematic and remarkably paced for a film of its length – certainly worth seeing.