Ever see someone train a dog by pushing its nose into its feces? This movie is that for 3 hours (oui, you're the dog). You watch depressed/ angry/ unpleasant characters flit and interact. There isn't one redeeming/ uplifting/ positive/ life-affirming moment. OK, wait: In the end, Waits & Tomlin celebrate their poverty and alcoholism in a dreary trailer; Robbins has sex with Stowe and brings the dog back home; MacDowell & Davison eat pastries with baker Lovett after their child dies. Yeah, sorry, all upbeat stuff.
Altman was a brilliant creator (3 Women, Nashville, Mash), capturing the American panorama and subconscious like no other director. Amazing in the range of topics he undertook. But over time he relied increasingly on dialogue to move his (lack of) plot forward. For many this skim was the invisible hand of meaning - "What is he trying to say here? It's obscure so it's gravid."
Short Cuts has all the Altman signatures: annoying lounge music that permeates everything, overlapping dialogue, characters staring at fish or fixed objects as they think about the meaning of life, overlapping dialogue, near-constant elevator jazz, characters who talk from the script and to the camera but not to each other, overlapping dialogue.
It might be a TV show that charms via "lives of idiosyncratic, tortured, neurotic characters intersecting & intertwining in a fictional yet all-too-real city of desire, failed dreams ...." The kind of thing where folks say "OMG, that is SO my family". Except for the bit where Penn beats a girl to death with a rock; or the guy who took pictures of the girl he raped and strangled.
Scenes or characters you might care or wonder about are never fully-explored; other scenes (eg. Lemmon's description of boinking his son's aunt) go on and on. And on. You got it, and still it continues. Perhaps this is a mirror that forces us to confront our inner selves while we confront our outer lives, as we reflect on ....
There's some nice acting: Robbins, Stowe, Tomlin, Jason-Leigh, McDormand, Davison, Gallagher, Chris Penn, Lili Taylor, more. But almost anyone can get good performances out of these folks.
Meryl Streep - sorry, I mean Julianne Moore - does her usual "watch me, I'm REALLY acting" - especially when she is nude from the waist-down in the pre-BBQ scene. Andie MacDowell, as always, squeezes her lack of range into playing herself. Same for Robert Downey Jr. and Lori Singer.
Jack Lemmon does the stuttering, mumbling, rolling fingers uh-uh-uh alky-monologue thing that he (incredibly) made a career out of. His understudy Tom Waits does a gravelly-voice version of this. Boy, imagine if Altman had filmed an 8-hour version of an O'Neil play where Waits and Lemmon talk about life as they drink in a bar on a rainy day. Various characters could come and go, talking about the rain as they walk in; the bartender, perhaps a jaded Brian Blessed, would comment as he refilled their glasses .... Whew.
Carver seemed to have insight, albeit through a whiskey glass, into the human spirit. But this movie version of his stories seems as contrived as a HS play. Look at the scene where Penn & Jason-Leigh consider having sex; or the photo-mixup scene; or the funeral scene where the dialogue approaches an Ibsen play: Sven opens his front door and a woman outside says "May I come in? I'm yust in town and I want to tell your father's last words as he died from syphilis ... yah, I'm your sister; the maid is your real mother; and the bank president, see the insanity in my left eye ..." Oofta, people do jump in like that in real life.
I got to page 3 of the reviews without reading anything negative about Short Cuts. I infer from this that viewers think a stage production where actors tell, but don't show, is good art. There it is.
I gave it a 7 and considered an 8. Several parts were so irritating that I winced and squirmed so it's certainly effective.
Two sidebars:
1. If you think Carver would be difficult to bring to the screen, see the excellent Jindabyne.
2. Altman over time became like his protégé Alan Rudolph - vague and insubstantial - whereas Rudolph's quirkiness grew into meatier work.
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