“Retirement? You’re talking about death, right?” quipped the maverick director Robert Altman only a few months ago. True to form, that’s exactly how it went down for the film veteran, who died early Monday morning in Los Angeles from complications due to leukemia. Altman had already started pre-production for his next film.
His final film, A Prairie Home Companion (released early this summer), proved a fitting finale for Altman. It is haunted by the spectre of death, but remains hopeful for new beginnings. On set, Altman couldn’t get proper insurance due to his deteriorating health, so he had to have a sub-director on set. That sub was none other than P.T. Anderson of Boogie Nights and Magnolia fame. Altman would sit near the back of the set and instruct Anderson over a radio.
Prairie Home was an allegorical farewell from Altman, as mourning and eulogizing at the real-life radio program’s fictional last broadcast gave way to celebrations and fond memories-just like the many happy recollections audiences have to remember Altman by.
A Kansas City native, Altman served his country in World War Two as a B-24 copilot before his 60-year stint in Hollywood. The iconoclast director’s career was marked by his trademark no-nonsense rhetoric, and his frequent battles with Hollywood’s money-driven studio system, which he felt betrayed the artfulness of film. Though he was sometimes seen as a box-office liability, detractors could never deny that Altman was a considerable cinematic genius.
His career did include a few forgettable potholes (namely Buffalo Bill and the Indians and Popeye), but Altman’s canon, which features over thirty movies and a wealth of television work, is nothing short of colossal.
Altman first garnered acclaim for his Korean War satire M.A.S.H. (it inspired the iconic television series), which he followed with such classics as the western McCabe and Mrs. Miller and his bi-centennial mosaic of America, Nashville, arguably his best film. In Nashville, Altman fully developed the techniques he would become renowned for: the “democracy of sound” invoked by multi-track audio and overlapping dialogue, pioneering use of the zoom lens, and his taste for improvisational acting.
An advisory board member for the National Organization for the Reform of Marijuana Laws (NORML), Altman claimed that during his later years he smoked at least one joint a day. “I was a heavy drinker, but the alcohol affected my heart rather than my liver. So I stopped. I smoke grass now. I say that to everybody, because marijuana should be legalized. It’s ridiculous that it isn’t. If at the end of the day I feel like smoking a joint, I do it. It changes the perception of what I’ve been through all day.”
Altman has been nominated for five Academy Awards during his career, for M.A.S.H. (1970), Nashville (1975), The Player (1992), Short Cuts (1993), and, most recently, Gosford Park (2001). Sadly, he went home empty-handed every time. The Academy tried to make amends for this by honouring Altman with a Lifetime Achievement Award at last March’s Oscars. Though it may have been late in coming, it was just in time to honour this gruff yet polished Hollywood gent.
