Short CutsTo quote Raymond Carver, "a writer sometimes needs to be able to just stand and gape at this or that thing--a sunset or an old shoe--in absolute and simple amazement.” Looking at the drama of everyday life can have a startling power, one which may seem isolated and separate from the world around it, but when given context and recognized for what it is--a part of that great whole of the narrative tapestry which encapsulates the world--it becomes clear just what we are in relation to others, how our actions affect those around us, and putting it all together gives us that great story called life.
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That quote by Raymond Carver was not merely serendipitous; Robert Altman's Short Cuts is an adaptation of several short stories (and a poem) by Carver, stitched together by a master weaver--the weft is the rich cast of actors, the warp...the events in their complicated lives. Each character's drama touches another's, even if only in tangent, adding spice to the jazzy improv of their existence. To call Short Cuts a "slice of life" of Los Angeles is made humorous, considering that each story makes up a part of a veritable buffet of variety. I've heard it described that Robert Altman ran his film shoots a bit like a party, with his team all working closely together and in an amicable environment. To be sure, this must have been a party for the ages, with a cast that is loaded with stars, some at the height of their popularity, some breaking through, and other actors better known for their other contributions to entertainment--all deliver outstanding performances that make the swirl of talent dizzying when taken as a whole. It's actually a bit funny that with a film crammed full of stars, Jeopardy's Alex Trebek is the only one recognized as himself. The film follows...oh, let's see...seven (maybe eight or nine, depending how you're counting, maybe more) narrative arcs, all starting out seemingly inconsequential, but growing into significant drama for the key players as the film evolves. The emotions and anxieties the characters feel is real, and grows by delivering periodic climaxes in action, as we cutaway from story to story, like channel surfing, but all the channels are all a part of the same world with the same characters. And here is where the film gets its title--Short Cuts--as it is a collection of these narratives, interesting on their own, maybe, but cut back and forth together makes for a film with a wide spectrum of conflicts and resolutions. And if there's one thing which can bring all the folks of California together--unifying them with a common concern--it's a good earthquake.
One of the stories entrenched within the film is of a jazz singer who performs in a little dive bar for mostly disinterested patrons, though she gives a powerful performance every night. Her music--and the spirit of music, jazz especially--dominates the film. Even musicians like Huey Lewis and Tom Waits have staring roles, and actors like Lori Singer contribute musical talents to the movie, as she performs the cello. The idea here is that each person's tale is a part of a symphony, adding their instrument to the harmony; and the "idea" of jazz--a kind of improvisational take on an established work--fits the idea of the adaptation by Altman of Carver's source material. One of Altman's greatest strengths as a filmmaker was his uncanny ability to create a fully realized world for his characters to inhabit, one where they are more than just figures traipsing out on stage to give their lines, and exeunt. Altman's L.A. in Short Cuts feels real, and the people in it feel like real people. That authenticity sometimes has the feel of a kind of improvisation--maybe there is some, but I can't spot it for sure--and here, too, is that same "idea of jazz" permeating through his opus. Every character's story connects to create a comprehensive web of relationships, and those private moments between couples coming into conflict are hinted at when they are among others, threatening to air their dirty laundry. Our perceptions of some characters is intentionally manipulated by the film, based on our expectations versus what we really know about them. Take Robert Downey Jr.'s performance as Bill: a make-up artist who has a gregarious personality, who generally acts like he has no filter and is a little too clever. There is a wonderfully deceptive scene with his wife, Honey (Lili Taylor), where we see her looking like she lost a fist fight, and our impulse is to believe that Bill has been abusive, based on his behavior; but we might have forgotten one or two things that we were lead away from thinking because of the way the film is cut together, and the preceding tone of the film, even if in a completely unrelated event. Like jazz, that tone colors our experience, and Altman is a wise wizard indeed, who crafts that enchantment over us, and we go along gladly into the rhythms which follow.
Recommended for: Fans of an economy-sized package of ultra-rich vignettes chopped up into a gourmet stir fry of narrative goodness. The little dramas all work in unity, are identifiable because of the verisimilitude of the characters and talent, giving us this fractured masterpiece of everyday drama.
One of the stories entrenched within the film is of a jazz singer who performs in a little dive bar for mostly disinterested patrons, though she gives a powerful performance every night. Her music--and the spirit of music, jazz especially--dominates the film. Even musicians like Huey Lewis and Tom Waits have staring roles, and actors like Lori Singer contribute musical talents to the movie, as she performs the cello. The idea here is that each person's tale is a part of a symphony, adding their instrument to the harmony; and the "idea" of jazz--a kind of improvisational take on an established work--fits the idea of the adaptation by Altman of Carver's source material. One of Altman's greatest strengths as a filmmaker was his uncanny ability to create a fully realized world for his characters to inhabit, one where they are more than just figures traipsing out on stage to give their lines, and exeunt. Altman's L.A. in Short Cuts feels real, and the people in it feel like real people. That authenticity sometimes has the feel of a kind of improvisation--maybe there is some, but I can't spot it for sure--and here, too, is that same "idea of jazz" permeating through his opus. Every character's story connects to create a comprehensive web of relationships, and those private moments between couples coming into conflict are hinted at when they are among others, threatening to air their dirty laundry. Our perceptions of some characters is intentionally manipulated by the film, based on our expectations versus what we really know about them. Take Robert Downey Jr.'s performance as Bill: a make-up artist who has a gregarious personality, who generally acts like he has no filter and is a little too clever. There is a wonderfully deceptive scene with his wife, Honey (Lili Taylor), where we see her looking like she lost a fist fight, and our impulse is to believe that Bill has been abusive, based on his behavior; but we might have forgotten one or two things that we were lead away from thinking because of the way the film is cut together, and the preceding tone of the film, even if in a completely unrelated event. Like jazz, that tone colors our experience, and Altman is a wise wizard indeed, who crafts that enchantment over us, and we go along gladly into the rhythms which follow.
Recommended for: Fans of an economy-sized package of ultra-rich vignettes chopped up into a gourmet stir fry of narrative goodness. The little dramas all work in unity, are identifiable because of the verisimilitude of the characters and talent, giving us this fractured masterpiece of everyday drama.