Home On The Range
Read a scathing one star review in the Grauniad the morning before seeing this at the Curzon Soho, and feared the worst. However it was absolutely charming. Not one of the great cinematic works, but a warmly successful revisiting of Altmans ensemble pieces. A bit like a bite-size version of Nashville, all of the actors make it look superbly effortless, and even Kevin Kline's Clouseau-esque slapstick 40's private eye didn't jar too much. Not like Steven Fry's unbearable wackiness in Gosford Park, though it was a toned down echo of it. Indeed there were many echoes of Altman's past, his fragile state while filming, and his imminent demise all the way through, which made it hard not to be moved.
There was a discussion afterwards by film critic, David Thompson and director Mick Figgis (Leaving Las Vegas) which was very interesting, but they needed someone to reign them in and get them to focus a little.
Labels: Film
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