The Great Movies: Nashville
I have never had a problem writing a review before trying to tackle what has to be one of the most difficult films to discuss. There's just so much to talk about, so many different characters, all of them playing major parts in an epic story of music, politics, and eccentricities put together with the magic touch by screenwriter Joan Tewkesbury and director Robert Altman. Nashville is a film you can dissect for days and still find new things to talk about, or you can float through it and allow the film to surround you. Either way, you're in for a great time.
There are 24 major characters played by actors who live inside these roles. They are bound together in a string of events held together by other characters and events that out of each other's control. It spirals into an event that blindsides you away from convention and leaves you with a sense of wonder. The film winds through five days in Nashville in the midst of a political campaign for Hal Phillip Walker of the "Replacement Party". Although we'll never met Mr. Walker, he is probably the most important character in the film. His voice travels around town wherever the action is, giving off canned speeches and making us very aware of his existence.
The rest of Nashville is filled with music superstars, working-class people, and hopefuls looking for an opportunity to rise. The intermediaries between all these people are three voices that range from silent to loud: a mysterious biker (Jeff Goldblum) who says nothing throughout the film, a BBC reporter named Opal (Geraldine Chaplin), star-struck and a little crazy to the point of fearlessness. And finally there's Mr. Walker's van. They go from the recording studios where mega-star Haven Hamilton (Henry Gibson) is recording his centennial tribute, to the airport where Barbara Jean (Ronee Blakley) returns home to perform and revive her career, to a car crash where everybody is upset, but no one forgets a chance to talk to everybody else and enjoy ice cream from a van that fortunately is also stuck. We enjoy various Friday night activities, a Saturday night at the Grand Ole Opry, and ultimately to a political rally where Nashville's brightest show up to sing for Hal Phillip Walker.
But the film isn't so much interested in the destination as it is in the journey. We meet interesting people with rich character (Gwen Welles), whether it be a waitress with hopes of being a star, but a voice that begs to differ. A rising rock star (Keith Carradine) that has no problem calling up the next woman he'll bed just before the first one leaves. His newest target is a married woman (Lily Tomlin), whose frustration with her husband (Ned Beatty) is very subtle, but runs deep. And let's not forget two strange observers (Glenn Scott and David Hayward) whose fascination with Barbara Jean has significance to the events that occur while Barbara Jean's husband (Allen Garfield) tries to ward off the vultures trying to pick his wife's sanity clean.
And those are just a few of the characters. Another thing this film has that gives it more dimension is lots of music, which is mostly played live (written mainly by the actors who play these characters) without interruption. With exception of a very few songs that are intentionally bad, the rest are pretty catchy, a few I'd even go so far as to say are excellent, including the show-stopping "It Don't Worry Me" and Oscar-Winning "I'm Easy". Both songs are used to explore the moment when the song is sung. One explains a man's sadness of how easily he hurt's women; the other is a unifying anthem in the wake of a tragedy.
It's easy to overlook great performances in Nashville when everybody is on their game. But there are some that would be a crime to not mention. Such as Tomlin's housewife, who sees an opportunity to get some emotional revenge against a husband who doesn't even try to involve himself in his deaf children's lives. I love Keenan Wynn's performance as a man whose wife is dying and is losing his grasp with his niece (Shelly Duvall). And I love Barbara Baxley's monologue where she talks about her feelings towards the Kennedy’s.
But this is Robert Altman's finest film, which is saying something considering the list of works that he has been involved with. He weaves in and out of events and characters with glee and a wicked sense of timing. Not only able to keep a tight reign on all of these intersecting stories, but still have time to enjoy all the music.
But to watch Nashville isn't to see a story, but to be washed away into a time and place where government and entertainment ultimately collide. Where the least likely heroes arise from disturbing developments. And where ordinary people are celebrated with the same joy as celebrities. Thank you, Robert Altman.