America oggi

Well, I've watched this film about seven times now, and I feel quite certain that I can add it to the list of my favorite films alongside Dr. Strangelove and The Red, White and Blue Trilogy.

The casting is flawless, with fantastic performances by Jennifer Jason Leigh, Julianne Moore, Peter Gallagher, Frances McDormand, Robert Downey, Jr. and many (I mean *many*) more. The camera floats around the world of these characters with perfection, tapping each on the shoulder and providing precious and oh-so-interesting insight into their happiness (or lack thereof, for the most part), sadness and their emotions.

See this film. You will not regret it. I have my fingers crossed for a special edition DVD of Short Cuts.

In front of a group of fishermen, a waitress bends over for a slab of butter. They take in the image like hungry wolves gulping meat, as her skirt rises high, revealing everything. They like what they see, so they ask her, `Can we have more butter, please?' The double meaning is obvious.

In a nightclub, a singer languishes over a sultry little song about `a good, punishing kiss.' The conversation in the foreground -- ex-cons relating cruel, violent stories from prison -- moves to the rhythm of the jazz saxophone, a dissonant snare-drum-prose accompaniment to the song. It's a deliberate ambiguity that binds the viewer in the scene's artistic tension.

In an upscale home with a breathtaking view of the city of angels, a struggling artist is being questioned about her relationship with another artist. She's naked from the waist down, suggesting both sexual aggressiveness, and vulnerability, simultaneously. She's seductively defiant with her husband. She confesses to an affair; but she does so angrily, indignant for being asked. It's sweet and sour, light and dark, truthful but deceptive, all at once. More double entendres.

Robert Altman's Short Cuts weaves all these disconnected scenes together like common strands of rope. It's the interplay of opposites that firmly holds them all together. The title itself, `Short Cuts,' has dual meaning: it's an interconnected mixture of `short cuts,' as in `off the cutting room floor' or `film clips;' and, it's an unmistakable reference to the web of human life, the social short cuts between ourselves and everyone else, as in the famous `six degrees of separation,' which tells us that we are only six personal relationships away from everyone else in the world. Set in LA, this idea makes for a lovely irony: although the main characters are completely absorbed in their individual worlds, they are intimately connected to each other. They just don't know it.

Short Cuts is one of Altman's masterpieces. See it if you can.

A classic bit of Altman - the story of cross-cutting lives over several days in LA. Featuring an all-star cast featuring a host of great character actors including Tim Robins, Julianne Moore, Jennifer Jason Leigh to name a few.

The performances are wonderful without exception (even Andie McDowell does OK). The intertwining stories are interesting up until the end - three hours goes past almost effortlessly and unnoticed. My only problem with the film is the lack of any real emotional punch or meaning in all of the stories. The majority of the stories have the potential for strong emotions to draw the audience in but the majority don't let it out too much (like real life I suppose), the one story that does let the characters feel (the story of McDowell's child) is not that convincing. Some of the stories don't make a lot of sense and don't feel based in reality. Compared to Magnolia, Glengarry Glen Ross, 12 Angry Men and other ensemble pieces this engages on an interest level but lacks an emotional involvement. I know that this is often on critic's top-ten lists but I felt that interesting stories and great acting do not make up for the lack of an emotional centre to the film. And the conclusion makes very little sense in relation to one of the stories in particular.

After watching this film one thing I was left with was a feeling of tremendous euphoria, a glowing feeling which lasted well into the next morning. I could not help but think that this collage of events in the lives of 22 people in sunny LA was realism. Not the harsh gritty realism of 'Taxi Driver', but a different realism. This movie is who we are, as people. This movie chronicles the emotions we may have when confronted with a persistent crank caller, or the lingering suspicion of a partner's affair. And the acerbic intelligence of the script is tempered with director Altman's stunning technical virtuosity.

The style is very pastiche, and one scene cuts to another, as the title suggests, with reckless abandon. This lends a very fresh and watchable quality to what is by any standards a long film. While most of the characters never meet, the movie is given shape by the connections between scenes. The connections are of two kinds: thematic connections for which the credit goes to the script, and also visual connections whereby the direction and editing employed by Altman allow him to create recurring imagery with which he weaves the sprawling, kicking constituent bits and pieces of this movie together. This style works very well indeed and at the end of the film, miraculously you are left not with the impression of having just watched a series of 'short cuts', but something entirely more holistic in nature.

There was not a false note in the acting and the star-studded cast did great justice to a remarkable script. The casting is flawless, from Tim Robbins' adulterous cop to Julianne Moore's adulterous painter. The camera-work is refreshing in its fluidity and control, transmitting an intense watchability. However many feelings there are in the human emotional vocabulary (and I am sure there are a fair few), it seems that 'Short Cuts' is somehow able, in the course of three hours, to display (in the actors) and evoke (in the audience), each and every one of them. For those who are of the belief that modern Hollywood is unable to produce films of artistic merit, watch this movie now or hold your peace forever.

When Altman is good he's among the greatest, and SHORT CUTS is among his best (M*A*S*H, BREWSTER McCLOUD, NASHVILLE). Adapted from Raymond Carver's collection of stories, SHORT CUTS offers a roving, restless glimpse into the lives of several Los Angelinos. The characters aren't completely real - in an 'I-can-relate-to-these-people' sense (I never expected this from this movie anyway), but are presented in a slightly hyperreal sense with Altman highlighting the everyday lives of characters who try valiantly to maintain their public personas (cutting across class boundaries in the process), even when things are spinning out of control beneath the surface (literally symbolized by the ending, though at least he didn't stoop to throwing in a rain of frogs...).

Los Angeles is famously mocked as a place that's all surface and no depth (see ANNIE HALL), and the slight exaggerations seen here characters plays with this, even as the isolation and instability of certain characters humanizes them. Through it all there's plenty of humor - though, as is usual with Altman, even the humor packs a wallop. Annie Ross' deadpan complaint gets to the heart of it all: "I hate L.A. - all they do is snort coke and talk." The irony in such nastiness becomes a bit more apparent when you consider where that assessment is coming from, within Altman's tragi-comic variant upon the notion that California's trends become America's truisms a decade or two down the road.

There are so many great moments here - Chris Penn's growing befuddlement (and seething, simmering murderous anger) with his wife's phone sex operator job; Tom Waits and Lily Tomlin as a boozy working class couple; Peter Gallagher and Frances MacDormand's marriage, collapsed into tantrums and furniture vandalism; the Tim Robbins/Huey Lewis confrontation; Jack Lemmon, Julianne Moore and Matthew Modine all deliver strikingly memorable performances. Every time I watch this, I get something new out of it - though it requires a bit of patience, SHORT CUTS is really worth checking out.