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.