Underrated performers I am obsessed with

1. Madeleine Sherwood. If she has any claim to fame, it's playing Mae in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. I was intrigued by her the moment she came onscreen- she was playing one of those supporting roles that don't look like much on paper but, when handled by the best, can have a chance to steal the show. I caught Ms. Sherwood next in Baby Doll, where (uncredited, by the way) she plays an ornery nurse-- again, she stood out amidst a powerhouse cast. She is also my favorite part of Sweet Bird of Youth, with her perfect abandonment when she screams or when she dances around in her "present" for Ed Begley's southern political boss. Now that I've seen the "big three" as far as films Madeleine has been in, I'm ready to sit through endless amounts of crap just to see the lady with the huge forehead kicking the ass of various tiny roles.

2. Colm Feore. He's not AS obscure as Madeleine. This guy gets tiny roles in crap mainstream movies where he always manages to shine. I first discovered him in Titus as Marcus Andronicus and then managed to hunt down a version of 32 Short Films About Glenn Gould with Japanese subs. You could say he's mannered, but it totally works. He's a true stage-to-screen actor, fleshing out his characters' traits in full and making the most of every line and moment.

3. Susan Egan. I first realized how much I loved her when I was thinking of who else could have played Mia Wallace in Pulp Fiction had Uma not been on the scene. I remembered that Meg from Hercules had been played by some lady with the deepest, snobbiest, coolest voice ever-- I looked her up, and there she was, and I maintain that she would be my second choice for the iconic role. She's more of  a stage actress, having played Belle in the original Broadway cast of Beauty and the Beast. And when someone's "more of a stage actress", that often means their work is not in high demand filmwise. I sat through the abominable Meet Market just for her adorable performance and am seriously considering rewatching Gotta Kick it Up just to get a glimpse of her again. 

4. Deirdre O'Connell. I've only had the pleasure of seeing this lady in Eternal Sunshine and Synecdoche, New York. She is probably the definition of underused-- if she can steal the three last minutes of Synecdoche next to the great Philip Seymour Hoffman, that says something about her talent. She is also heartbreaking as the spurned wife in her minute or so in Eternal Sunshine; I do wish she would pop up more often. 

5. Betty Lou Holland. If anyone HAS heard of her, it's because they know her as Kim Stanley's mother in The Goddess, where she is undeniably brilliant. Upon seeing the film I rushed to IMDB to see what else this gem had been in, and unfortunately I found basically nothing. Not even any notable stage work. She does appear in the documentary The Needs of Kim Stanley, which I want to see ASAP; otherwise I've not much chance to catch her in anything else.

It don't worry me

Oh, I've seen quite a few movies this summer, but none of them have sucked me in and made me not check the time every five minutes quite like Nashville. I've just recently been bitten by the Robert Altman bug (the first I saw of his was 3 Women). His work is endlessly fascinating, and Nashville is no exception: it is in full-swing "Altman mode" (overlapping dialogue, huge ensemble, parallel stories). Here, I saw everything I had taken for granted as essential to a good film (solid plot, snappy screenplay, developed characters) turned upside down, and I am grateful for it. 

I read once that of all famous directors, Altman probably has the most respect for his audience. He doesn't bother explaining away all the questions because he knows we can do it ourselves. Dialogue is realistic. Actually, Nashville occasionally felt more like a documentary; the lines between reality and fiction are blurred even more when Elliot Gould and Julie Christie appear as themselves. We leave the film with countless questions (was Barbara Jean okay? Why did he shoot? etc.) that a lesser director would have answered in a tight little ending scene. The frayed ends, though, complete the film's "slice of life" feel. 

And, of course, the actors themselves: Lily Tomlin is as beautifully understated as can be, Barbara Baxley is a truly unique and frail presence, Keith Carradine swaggers through the film wonderfully and everyone else, long story short, is good too. When you're in an Altman ensemble film, you really have to pave your own way into the audience's memories: there is nothing baity in the script, and creating the character is solely up the actor.

Please don't avoid this film if you're one of those who "likes all kinds of music except country". The music here is quite often more heartfelt, meaningful and melodic than anything you're likely to hear today: look out for "I'm Easy", part of my favorite scene.