Life Is Much The Same; Sometimes Bitter, Sometimes Sweet: Sunrise (1927)

Sunrise, subtitled A Song of Two Humans is one of those gems that often separates a legitimate critics top film list from somebody who pretends to know what they are talking about when it comes to cinema.  I had yet to see this movie and felt as though I was missing something spectacular.  To be honest, as the film began I thought I was watching a rather dull film, but this notion ended quite quickly.  The moment director F.W. Murnau began overlapping images and incorporating bizarre camera angles, I was hooked.  This film is an expressionist masterpiece that pours out darkness almost consuming the the faint light that surrounds the characters, becoming a study in the blackest parts of the human psyche, most notably deceit and infidelity.  However, like any good film made before Citizen Kane, it offers redemption and viewers are left with a cinematic treat that is both rewarding and heartfelt, a feat that is becoming harder and harder to deliver in contemporary cinema.

I have mentioned in many reviews that some film plots are very simple and unapologetically plain.  Sunrise may  prove to have the simplest plot of any film I ever review.  With that being said, it may also have one of the deepest-rooted narratives of any piece of cinema I have encountered.  This simple story of redemption is so honest, emotional and beautiful that I could not look away, fearing that I would miss some subtlety that would turn the entire narrative on its head.  The narrative goes like this The Man (George O'Brien) is so deeply consumed by lust for The Woman From The City (Margaret Livingston) that he is making a fool of his wife The Woman (Janet Gaynor) and blowing his meager earnings to please the city socialite.  In an oneiric scene The Woman From The City demands that The Man kill her wife and move to the city with her, promising a world of razzmatazz and joviality that explodes off the screen in orgiastic joy.  Half-drunken on idealism The Man agrees and plans an elaborate method to kill The Woman whilst rowing to the city.  The Woman mistakes this offering of a trip to the city for a chance to rekindle their relationship, only to become shocked when The Man tries to kill her.  Unable to commit to the act The Man begs for The Woman's forgiveness as they dock on shore and approach the city.  Realizing the error of his ways, The Woman accepts The Man's apologies and the couple engage in a carefree romp through the city.  Their flame rekindled the couple heads back to their farm town by boat, only to get caught in a hectic storm that capsizes the boat.  Believing he has lost his wife, The Man goes into a severe depression while The Woman From The City believes his act to be purposeful.  Fortunately for The Man, it is discover that The Woman has indeed survived the wreck with little harm.  The Man dismisses The Woman From The City and refuses to continue his infidelities leaving the couple together in a happy embrace, thus ending the film, simply and poetically.

The film is full of critical analysis, Murnau was a director who was very self-aware about the images he projected and Sunrise is certainly no exception.  With a oeuvre that includes an adaptation of Tartuffe, as well as the critically acclaimed Nosferatu, it is clear that Murnau loved the study of human experience.  Sunrise particularly concerns itself with the tragedy of human desire.  The desire manifests itself in many ways throughout the film, whether it is The Man's desire for another lover, or The Woman's desire for normalcy within her family.  Even The Woman From The City desires the acceptance of the village people, despite engaging in infidelity which she fails to realize destroys this possibility.  These desires are rather blatant, but the larger issue of longing comes through in the form of capitalist desires.  Money is arguably its own character within the film, every main character is tied to it in some form and it is exchanged throughout the film.  In fact, the only reason that The Man and The Woman are capable of rekindling their love is because of an apparent excess of wealth produced by The Man.  It is implied at the films onset that The Man has no money, yet the couple spends lavishly in the city as though they had an unlimited well of finances.  It implies that happiness and the cessation of desire can only occur through monetary escape.  This argument helps add another layer to the film, particularly the possibility that the couple's trip to the city was actually a dream.  Many of the occurrences in the city are literally impossible, notably the instance in which The Man and The Woman walk through traffic without being hit, or when The Man plays the carnival game that appears to have a never ending supply of balls for him to throw.  The scenes are illogical and surreal, all indicative of dreams.  Contrast this with the literal stormy seas of reality that the couple must go through.  They are shot with close angles and become far more believable than any of the city scenes.  Furthermore, it is only in The Man's moment of severe loss that he realizes that the reality of nothingness makes the fleeting dreams of unlimited wealth ridiculous and that a life in poverty with love is far more rewarding than a life with riches that lacks love.  Sure, this particular reading of Sunrise is a possible stretch, but I cannot help but think Murnau has such ideas in mind.

This movie is on top film lists for a reason, it is perfect filmmaking and a shining moment in the silent film era.  I believe there was briefly a blu-ray copy of this released, but it is sadly out of print.  If you can drop money on that get it, if not a regular DVD will work fine.  The only thing that will not work is not watching this film, because you would be doing yourself a terrible injustice.

I Am Here To Protect You. You Have Nowhere To Go: THX 1138 (1971)

I had heard many positive things about THX 1138 prior to viewing it, particularly its technical achievements.  Given this, I expected the film to be visually amazing but lacking in narrative.  I am here to tell you that THX 1138 is far more than fancy cinematic magic and is definitely an enjoyable film.  I know it is a brave statement to make, but I find the film to be equally as good as Star Wars, if not better.  It represents a moment in independent American filmmaking that relied on directorial vision over producer's demands and it certainly reflects artistic vision as something of greater importance than inherent financial success.  In the vein of Plato's Allegory of the Cave, THX 1138 combines minimalist artistry and dystopian lyricism to make a film that stands alone as a work that has clearly inspired many of its predecessors.

As stated, the film is clearly inspired by Plato and as such, the narrative follows a society that literally exists underground.  The people, more insect-like than human, follow the orders of speakers, robot police officers and a print screen image of Jesus.  From the onset things appear to be forever entrenched in logical oppression, until a couple identified as THX (Robert Duvall) and LUH (Maggie McOnie) engage in solicit sexual activity that is for non-reproductive purposes.  This causes the couple to become political dissidents within their society, leading to their detainment in a stark border-less white world.  THX is separated from LUH and makes it his quest to rejoin her.  THX then joins with another member of the community named SRT (Don Pedro Colley), a former holographic actor who finds his job meaningless and seeks something new.  Together they attempt to find LUH while also escaping the city.  The duo quickly discovers that LUH has been captured and sent to organ donation, which leads to a bizarre sequence in which THX breaks down upon the discover of a fetal version of LUH.  Ultimately, THX is separated from SRT and continues his escape from the city, climbing towards the surface as the government pursues him.  Realizing that it is costing more money to chase THX than is allowed the government calls off the chase moments before he reaches the surface.  The film closes in the final moments with THX looking off into a large a blistering sunset that leaves his future uncertain.

I could elaborate on the obvious critiques here as they relate to bureaucracy and fascist ideologies, but it has been done, and to be honest it is rather obvious in the film.  Instead I want to touch upon how truly important this film is to American independent cinema.  Sure, it is not the iconic film that Easy Rider became, but it is the only production released by the powerhouse that was American Zoetrope.  Led by the burgeoning director Francis Ford Copolla the group included the young genius of George Lucas and editor Walter Murch, the two whose names are most closely associated with THX 1138.  They, as a group, took an image from their days as college filmmakers and created a fully realized film that is magical, critical and enjoyable.  It is an intimate fully realized film from a very famous director.  In fact, I would argue that were THX 1138 never made, the world would never have received Star Wars down the line.  This film represents an incredibly significant moment in filmmaking and it is well worth watching for that, the enjoyability is just an added bonus.

I recommend this film highly and there is an excellent two-disc version that covers the American Zoetrope years in great length.  Any film scholar will benefit from this viewing.

Have You Got All The Troll Footage You Need?: TrollHunter (2010)

This was an impulse viewing if ever such a thing existed.  I was expecting to see an over-the-top special effects heavy movie in the vein of Cloverfield that was visually intriguing, but lacked very little beyond that.  Fortunately, for me, TrollHunter was so much more.  A very self-aware film, TrollHunter takes as much time perfecting the monster movie genre as it does mocking it, incorporating the found footage elements to make a heavy political statement while also dodging heavy reliance on technical wizardry to captivate audiences.  It is a fun movie that is thrilling not for its suspense, but because its genuine captivating qualities which range from humorous dialogue to enthralling imagery of Norwegian wilderness.  I am surprised that it took me so long to hear about this film and feel completely obliged to share it with as many people as possible.

As a found footage film, TrollHunter posits itself as a factual account claiming to be uncovered in a recent release of government documents.  It centers on a group of students who are intrigued by a recent rash of bear deaths in the area, believing it to be a direct result of unethical hunting practices.  However, they quickly discover that what they though to be the actions of a group are instead centered around the work of one mysterious and continually elusive man named Hans (Otto Jespersen).  When the crew finally catches up with Hans, they persistently demand he answer for his ways, assuming him to be the bear murderer.  Hans dismisses them and warns them to avoid his lifestyle because it will prove deadly if they do not.  The group refuses to yield to the warnings and follows Hans into the woods only to lose him instantly.  Taken back by disturbing sounds the group stalls only to discover Hans fleeing out of the woods while yelling out the word “troll.”  It is in this instance that the group discovers that the bear deaths are reflective of something much larger, literally.  Hans explains to the group that he is tasked with maintaining the troll population in Norway and that it is a process enacted by the government.  Realizing that they have stumbled upon cinematic gold, the crew follows Hans on his daily activities realizing that his job as troll hunter is as bizarre as it is lonely, which slowly leads to a bonding amongst the group.  As they continue their quest, they realize that the government’s insistence on hiding trolls is indicative of larger issues and that Hans is a pawn for the government who sees the trolls as a hindrance and wants nothing more than to destroy them all.  It is in this realization that Hans uses the documentary as a call for help to the dying trolls, hoping that all that view the material will realize the trolls indifference towards humanity and that a possibility of a harmonious existence.

  

In typical Scandinavian fashion, the film is incredibly liberal and blatantly uses the trolls as a commentary on environmental decay.  The film’s writer and director André Øvredal seems fit to blame the entirety of this downfall on conservative ideology, particularly that which is concerned with capitalist advances.  It is clear throughout the film that the government’s only reason for hiding the trolls is that as large, lumbering beasts they interfere with the extension of power lines and other forms of industrial evolution, which inevitably rely on destruction of the natural world.  To the government officials in the film murdering the trolls is a simple and cost-efficient answer to industrialization, particularly given that Hans is the only troll hunter in existence.  Øvredal also has no qualms about attaching the problem to Christianity as well, using Scandanavian folklore as inspiration.  Hans notes that trolls lust for the blood of Christians, which inevitably associates their negative relationship to the natural world.  The critique is logical in a liberal sense, because in many discourses Christianity is a root for modern oppression.  The films narrative is even careful to note its fondness of Michael Moore, who the crew cites as a role model.  Finally, the film is obviously a call to maintain the natural world through its cinematography, which often consists of long panning shots of the Norwegian landscape, which are simultaneously breathtaking, and a sobering reminder of the continually vanishing natural world and the hands of technological advances.  In the closing scenes, the film brilliantly edits a interview with the Norwegian Prime Minister to make it appear as though he acknowledges the existence of trolls, or in a metaphorical sense a nature in need of preservation.

As I noted this is a Norwegian version of Cloverfield, but is considerably better, and getting a copy on Blu-Ray should be understood.

We Are More Than Flesh and Blood, More Than Revenge: Valhalla Rising (2009)

In cinema, there are a certain set of films that are notable for either being incredibly brutal or unbearably profane.  These films include works like A Clockwork Orange, Salo: Or The 120 Days of Sodom and in recent years Antichrist.   These films are often panned by critics and popular moviegoers alike for their depraved imagery and seemingly unwatchable nature, however, it is these set of films that often provide some of the most rewarding viewing experiences for those desiring a challenging cinematic experience.  The previously mentioned films all exist as well-acted, well-shot and thoroughly written narratives and I am more than willing to add a film like Valhalla Rising to this list.  It is a very brutal film and makes elaborate use of aftereffects blood in a way that makes contemporary action films look like a kid's movie.  Yet amidst the violence and abrasive tone of the film, viewers are able to experience a visual treat in experimental narrative that is both your traditional mainstream action flick and a deep reflection on revenge as it relates to religious duty.  The film is disturbingly inspiring to say the least.

The organically flowing narrative of Valhalla Rising focuses primarily on the aptly named One-Eye, a mute warrior with vicious strength who has been inexplicably captured by a local tribe for exploitation in some sort of warrior games.  It is assumed that One-Eye will play pawn to his captors until he meets death in these battles, but due to his resourcefulness he is able to break free, rather violently, from his captors and eventually takes the tribes youngest boy under his wing.  Upon doing so One-Eye and the boy meet up with a group of Christian Crusaders who are in search of the Promised Land.  Believing One-Eye to have been resurrected from hell directly, the group agrees to take him and the boy along in their quest.  During a voyage down a river, they experience an disturbingly long spell of fog that leads many of the crusaders to become unstable, leading to the murder of one man who attempted to attack the boy.  Realizing first hand the strength of One-Eye, the crusaders give him leeway to act on his own freewill once they arrive on land.  This newly discovered land is not the Promised Land the crusaders had hoped for and is instead infested with locals whose sole desires are to attack the new intruders.  After a descent into a living hell, which includes suicide and sodomizing, the group is destroyed by the natives, leaving only One-Eye and the boy.  In a moment of sacrifice, One-Eye offers himself to the natives to save the boy and is quickly massacred by the blunt weapons of the aggressive tribe.  The film fades and leaves us with an image of One-Eye superimpose over an image of foggy nature, implying his godlike rule over the land, despite being disconnected from it physically.

The world of Valhalla Rising is wholly masculine and, with the exception of a group of what the viewer can assume to be sex slaves, shows no images of women.  Given this set up it is no surprise that the film is full of illogical violence.  Nicolas Windig Refn is arguably positing the notion that a world ruled by men for men can only be deadly.  In fact, no amount of honor, religion or sportsmanship can assure safety, because under this set-up all three elements are tied with mortality.  In fact, within this film the only form of power seems to come with age, because elderly males such as the village chief or the leader of the crusades have unquestioned power, while the boy is young and visually more effeminate, which results in him being tasked with dangerous work, most notably feeding One-Eye from the onset of the film.  Even One-Eye, who seems to approach life in a far more thoughtful manner, cannot escape this brutal masculinity and literally succumbs to it in the films closing images as he is bludgeoned to death with a swarm of phallic weapons.  This death is foreshadowed by him creating his own phallic statue as he commits a false suicide, implying his own death at the hands of male plays for power, which formulates itself in various forms throughout the film, ranging from violent sodomizing to brutal attacks.  This world, as the film shows, is doomed for failure given the closing shots of silent nature and shadows of the men who ruled over it, implying that in the near future such brutal patriarchies will disappear and only be fleeting memories in the foggy distance.  In doing so, the violent film Valhalla Rising becomes something far grander than an action film and transcends into a world of astute and well-executed social commentary.

Buy this movie if you are a fan of unusual cinema or are keen on special effects in films, it is a highlight in both respects.  I would also suggest it to anyone who enjoys experimental narratives, because this is certainly from the realm of filmmaking.  Copies are rather cheap and well-worth owning.

I Loathe Tragedy, Such An Inferior Genre: Children of Paradise (1945)

A film that is poetic realism realized, Children of Paradise incandescently studies the world of a struggling theater troupe through its moments of success all the way to its moments of abject failure.  The masterpiece of French director Michael Carne, Children of Paradise is a brutally honest look at love, lust and the troubling links of romance, ultimately, positing the failures of true romance in the face of bourgeois oppression.  The film is uniquely its own work, incorporating tight and claustrophobic cinematography that still manages to flow with grace, as well as acting that is theatrically excessive, yet manages to be achingly real.  The film clocks in at an epic three plus hours, yet the viewing experience seems all too short and ends abruptly, all be it appropriately, leaving those witnessing the magnificent work yearning for something more, but like the films characters viewers are left with a fading flicker of something soulful that has forever escaped their grasp.   
 

As noted the film follows the interconnected narratives of a theater troupe located on the appropriately named Boulevard of Crime.  The films central character is certainly the aging beauty Garance (Arletty) whose illustrious beauty proves irresistible to the men living on and around the crowded boulevard.  The first to approach Garance with interest is the aspiring actor Frederick (Pierre Brasseur) who at first sees the gorgeous woman as a conquest, but quickly finds himself in a state of perpetual infatuation with Garance.  Not soon after Frederick’s advances, Garance is accused of thievery, however, she is saved by a mime named Baptiste (Jean-Louis Barrault) who explains that it was in fact a conman named Laceneire (Pierre Renoir) who stole the watch, while also expressing his own interests in Garance.  Garance thanks Baptiste for taking her side and offers him a flower in gratitude.  Baptiste, like Frederick, is quickly infatuated by Garance, however, it appears as though she actually shares similar feelings.  All appears set for Baptiste and Garance to fall madly in love, until Count Edouard  (Louis Salou) enters the picture.  Described in the film as a dandy, Edouard is an extravagant man who uses his monetary extensions to get what he wants, proving successful even with Garance.  Garance is shown choosing Edouard over the other gentlemen at the end of the first act, and we are brought back in a few years later showing both Frederick and Baptiste as successful actors, although Baptiste appears to be in a state of constant depression over his loss of Garance.  These issues are only made more severe by the constant meddling of Laceneire who believes he can use guile to win over Garance.  Ultimately, the four men roguishly trick one another into winning over Garance, who is obviously lost in thoughts of Baptiste.  Tragically it is their relationship that is never rekindled as they fail to cross paths and Baptiste is left chasing after Garance in the crowded Boulevard of Crime, only to be consumed by the mass of people.  In this moment, Garance dismisses Baptiste as nothing more than a face in the crowd, literally becoming a faceless man behind the makeup of a mime.

The film is stunning and absolutely enthralling, yet in the back of my mind I fell bothered by the overarching assumption that all masculine camaraderie is somehow ruined by the interference of a female.  All the men act in a ludicrous manner over their desire for Garance and at times the film suggest that it leads to their disconnection.  In fact, a rather endearing scene between Baptiste and Frederick over their mutual respect for each others craft, is quickly dismissed when Frederick sleeps with Garance, despite knowing that Baptiste is only a room away.  This assumption is only made worse as it is assumed that Garance is entirely incapable of truly choosing her own mate.  Garance only settles with Edoaurd in order to avoid a serious prison sentence, however, once she chooses to settle with the count it is mutually believed between viewer and characters that she is inextricably tied to him, despite her continuing longing for Baptiste.  Incidentally, a male character must even assure her of her love for Baptiste, specifically when Baptiste’s son states that she cannot have his father, because he is happy with his own family.  It is patriarchy working at its most destructive level, one in which even a male child proves to have more authority than an aging woman.  I consider most of the problems to be indicative of forties Europe, yet I could not praise this film, without also making note of these glaring gender issues.

Sadly, Criterion has yet to release this gem on Bluray, however, that should not deter you from getting a copy, because it is one of the rather moving pieces in the collection and a definitive example of French Poetic Realism. 

The Eighth Wonder of the World: King Kong (1933)

I am often wary of approaching the classics I have not seen, particularly ones that receive a constant stream of praise.  The original King Kong is one such film.  I was familiar with all the classic scenes and knew the whole plot, yet when I finally got around to watching this classic I was enamored by its incandescence and narrative mastery.  King Kong is often placed on top 100 lists alongside Citizen Kane and Seven Samurai and I was uncertain that it was deserving of such praise.  I was sorely wrong.  It is deserved of all critical praise, particularly is well-executed narrative, technological advancements and stellar cinematography.  In fact, my only criticism for the work is its acting, which while overly exaggerated only reflects the accepted style of the early thirties.  King Kong is the veritable beast of cinema and exudes all he elements of the magic movies can bring viewers.  King Kong is magnificent.

As many of you may know, from either the original or the many subsequent remakes, King Kong follows Carl Denham (Robert Armstrong) as he searches for the next big thing in cinema verite.  On a hunch, Denham hires a crew to begin filming on an unnamed island.  This crew includes the perfectly American John Driscoll (Bruce Cabot), as well as a very large amount of uncredited actors, including a rather racially insensitive Chinese cook, not to mention the pseudo-minstrel village people of Skull Island.  Denham's unspoken quest is soon revealed to be a quest to capture images of the elusive beast King Kong.  This entails using a young woman Denham has hired named Ann Darrow (Fay Wray) as bait.  The bait works and leads to King Kong taking Wray into his lair that is a literal pocket of the prehistoric era, complete with a variety of long forgotten monsters.  In an act of love, Driscoll enrolls himself, as well as Denham and the crew, in a rescue mission.  This portion consumes a considerable amount of the film and is a masterpiece of technical achievement and cinematic composition in its battles, multi-layered scenes and editing.  Eventually Denham and Driscoll rescue Darrow and manage to subdue Kong deciding that their best bet is to take the beast back with them and exploit it for monetary gain.  At this point, you are probably familiar with the story, it goes awry quickly and Kong attempts to take his prize in Darrow, unfortunately, Kong is quickly attacked by planes and falls to his death, a fatal case of beauty consuming a beast.  A simple film that is eloquently told and forever timeless.

I will exempt myself from critical analysis for this work, because I would only touch on the issue of exploitation of others as it occurs so obviously in this film.  Instead, I will offer up AFI's list of the best movies ever, which includes King Kong.  While it is not the best list ever composed it is rather respectable and one that I plan to knock out sooner rather than later.

Obtaining a Blu-Ray should be understood on this one, a copy is necessary or you cannot even consider yourself a fan of film.  Buy a copy and share it with your family and friends, they will thank you.

You May Say That I Ain't Free, But That Don't Worry Me: Nashville (1975)

Robert Altman was one of the most prophetic filmmakers of the second half of the twentieth century and continued to make respectable films until his passing in 2006.  Critics claim his 1975 work Nashville to be his masterpiece and the statements are more than justifiable.  In a film that weaves between a nonlinear experimental film and a astute political satire, Nashville becomes something tragically real yet absurdly impossible.  As a viewer I was uncertain whether to take the film as a blatant social criticism or a preemptive parody of the political thrillers that would soon follow Nashville, most notably the works of Oliver Stone.  This hybridity of narrative makes the film incredibly enjoyable and makes the lengthy viewing seem rather brief, given that dispersed focus of plots and constant flow of hilariously tragic characters that result.  Nashville is its own film, by an auteur whose main concern is creating a seemingly illogical film that still has a very cohesive underlying statement, one that is quite cynical, yet seems to be proving truer as American politics evolve into the 21st century.


Given the rather sporadic nature of the narrative, I am going to approach my discussion of the plot through the various vignettes within the film, as Nashville is more about the characters as they relate involuntarily relate to a political movement much larger than themselves.  Altman makes it very clear that the film is about the actors and their characters given that the films opening credits are done in the fashion of a concert commercial.  It is made clear that this is a film about actors playing characters, one that just happen to be tied to political ideologies, whether by their own decision or not.  The political party discussed directly in the film is that of the Replacement Party, which proposes bizarre changes to politics.  This party throughout the film is led by the unseen voice of Hal Phillip Walker, whose image is obviously so important that he cannot afford to be seen interacting with the rather remedial characters that exist in Nashville.  In fact, the only semblance of an individual from the Replacement Party comes through John Triplette (Michael Murphy) who is obviously using this job as a stepping stone to his own political future.  Triplette has been assigned to create a fundraising event involving prominent Nashville musicians and understands both the delicacy of the situation and the necessity of it being a very broad night of music.  His first acquisition for the event is the Haven Hamilton (Henry Gibson) a staunchly patriotic, sequin suit donning country star whose fading image is obvious to everyone but himself, particularly when he dismisses Opal (Geraldine Chaplin) the overzealous and misguided BBC reporter whom he believes to be sabotaging his recording session.  Opal simply desires to get a real image of Nashville, which in her mind is as faded as the garbage dumps she frequents.  Triplette also garners the help of a young musical folk trio that are constantly breaking up and reuniting without logic and seem rather lost as musicians in the god fearing and flag waving musical styling of the rest of the city.  The trio's most troubled member is Tom (Keith Carradine) whose womanizing tragically leads to his downfall, particularly as he takes advantage of a Linnea Reese (Lily Tomlin) a depressed housewife whose only joy appears to come from taking care of her two deaf children.  This depression also stems from her disconnect with her husband Delbert Reese (Ned Beatty), a real southern boy who is more concerned with advancing the image of his fading starlet Barbara Jean (Ronee Blakely) whose recent unexplained accident has left her mentally unstable and physically drained.  It is Barbara Jean, in fact, who proves the most important character in the film as she ultimately becomes the victim of an implied political assassination.  I have only mentioned a handful of characters, which fails to represent the entirety of the films twenty plus interacting major characters.  The characters all react to the assassination of Barbara Jean in various ways, however, each individuals actions are obviously for personal advancement and not a single one of the characters shows a genuine concern for the dying starlet.  It is terribly cynical but rather reflective of Robert Altman's worldview, particularly as it relates to politics.

Robert Altman's films posit a notion of futility as it relates to political movements and attempts to form grassroots revolutions.  He delivers this most effectively in his mini-series Tanner '88 which features Nashville star Michael Murphy playing democratic candidate Jack Tanner, a "for real' political candidate who is genuinely concerned with changing the corruption in American politics.  However, in the cynical cutthroat world of politics, Tanner is doomed from the start and is undermined not only by news media and other candidates, but by his own campaign team, who, like Murphy's character in Nashville, have their own ulterior motives.  In the end Tanner is left disillusioned about politics and realizes that people will only vote for the person they "like the most," which rarely has anything to do with politics.  Similarly, in Nashville, Altman creates a world in which politics are won by who you know, not what you know.  Hal Phillip Walker's image relies on his political ties, thus explaining Triplette's concern with accruing not only staunchly conservative characters like Hamilton, but allowing for their image to be mixed with someone like Elliot Gould, who makes a cameo in the film at a mixer for the Replacement Party.  This particular scene is brilliant because neither Hamilton nor Gould recognizes the other, yet they are at the same party, performing their believed duty to a political candidate.  It is precisely this act of performance, which Altman criticizes throughout the film, everything is done with imagery as an underlying concern.  For example, the films opening scenes involve Hamilton singing an obnoxiously patriotic song about the bicentennial celebration in the United States.  His performance is rather uninspired, yet he decides to criticize his hippy looking pianist for its terrible quality, as though the guys look will be reflected on the entirely audio.  Similarly, the Grand Ole Opery night shown is both riddled with ridiculous uses of advertising as well as a token performance by a black singer, which borders on minstrelsy, both to assure revenue for the dying musical venue as well as a new more politically acceptable image.  The brilliance in these images is that Altman is attaching them to the overarching issue of political actions claiming that they are nothing but a performance and those involved concern themselves with images and not ideas.  It may seem cynical, but it is proving rather pertinent in our previous political elections, and particularly so in our upcoming primaries as well.  The next time you watch a debate, keep this film in mind.

I am particularly fond of Robert Altman and this is right up there with The Long Goodbye and Tanner '88 as one of my favorite films by the director.  I cannot emphasize how necessary owning a copy of this film is, although I would also strongly encourage you to share it with your friends, as it is a brilliant and continually pertinent film.