The pairing of Robert Altman ("M*A*S*H," "The Long Goodbye," "Come Back To The Five and Dime, Jimmy Dean," "The Player," "Gosford Park") and Garrison Keillor, the creator of the long-running radio show, "A Prairie Home Companion" (and author of "Lake Wobegone Days") for a film version of PHG may have seemed a bit odd at first, but the results are inspired.
The former's frantic, non-stop dialogue-fueled energy mixes well with the latter's laid-back, down-home, almost sleep-inducing style (with a voice so syrupy you could pour it over your flapjacks), to create Altman's best ensemble work since 1975's "Nashville." In fact, there's a lot of that classic film in this telling of PHC's last night on the air.
There's also some of "Waiting For Guffman" and "A Mighty Wind," in the mix, making this film a parody and a homage all at the same time.
Narrated by Kevin Kline (who plays security officer Guy Noir, complete with a decades old pinstriped suit), like Bogart's Sam Spade in any number of 1940s detective films, "Companion" weaves a fascinating tale of a radio variety show that should have "died 50 years ago; only no one told" the performers. Now, with a Texas corporation buying station WLT in St. Paul (the bloodsuckers represented by Mr. Axeman - Tommy Lee Jones), and planning to shut it down, this is it's last Saturday night performance.
And what a bittersweet performance it is. Down home homilies, songs of faith, banjo and guitar pickers, sweet harmonics, a torch song or two, a pair of hilarious cowboys, Dusty and Lefty (Oscar nominees Woody Harrelson and John C. Reilly), the singing Johnson sisters (Meryl Streep and "Nashville" vet, Lily Tomlin, the latter almost sure to get her second Academy Award nomination for this role), and commercial messages (for shoes, herring, rhubarb pie filling, coffee and powder-milk biscuits) that are blatantly ridiculous (yet oddly persuasive)- all presided over by Keillor's gentle ringmaster. By the way, even though he's basically playing himself, Keillor's performance is marvelous, as are all of the actors.
These warm moments balanced out Altman's silly subplot of an Angel of Death (Virginia Madsen, "Candyman," "Sideways") who visits the set of that last episode, giving the entire enterprise a rather unnecessary otherworldly feel.
Nevertheless, with some powerful performances, some great tunes and skits (the bad joke song by Dusty and Lefty is the funniest thing I've seen on the screen in a long time), the crisp writing Altman and Keillor are known for, and an interesting storyline, "A Prairie Home Companion" is well-worth the effort to see (even though you may have to go a bit out of your way to do so). It's moving at times, and a bit surreal in places, but overall a thoroughly enjoyable slice of Americana.
The former's frantic, non-stop dialogue-fueled energy mixes well with the latter's laid-back, down-home, almost sleep-inducing style (with a voice so syrupy you could pour it over your flapjacks), to create Altman's best ensemble work since 1975's "Nashville." In fact, there's a lot of that classic film in this telling of PHC's last night on the air.
There's also some of "Waiting For Guffman" and "A Mighty Wind," in the mix, making this film a parody and a homage all at the same time.
Narrated by Kevin Kline (who plays security officer Guy Noir, complete with a decades old pinstriped suit), like Bogart's Sam Spade in any number of 1940s detective films, "Companion" weaves a fascinating tale of a radio variety show that should have "died 50 years ago; only no one told" the performers. Now, with a Texas corporation buying station WLT in St. Paul (the bloodsuckers represented by Mr. Axeman - Tommy Lee Jones), and planning to shut it down, this is it's last Saturday night performance.
And what a bittersweet performance it is. Down home homilies, songs of faith, banjo and guitar pickers, sweet harmonics, a torch song or two, a pair of hilarious cowboys, Dusty and Lefty (Oscar nominees Woody Harrelson and John C. Reilly), the singing Johnson sisters (Meryl Streep and "Nashville" vet, Lily Tomlin, the latter almost sure to get her second Academy Award nomination for this role), and commercial messages (for shoes, herring, rhubarb pie filling, coffee and powder-milk biscuits) that are blatantly ridiculous (yet oddly persuasive)- all presided over by Keillor's gentle ringmaster. By the way, even though he's basically playing himself, Keillor's performance is marvelous, as are all of the actors.
These warm moments balanced out Altman's silly subplot of an Angel of Death (Virginia Madsen, "Candyman," "Sideways") who visits the set of that last episode, giving the entire enterprise a rather unnecessary otherworldly feel.
Nevertheless, with some powerful performances, some great tunes and skits (the bad joke song by Dusty and Lefty is the funniest thing I've seen on the screen in a long time), the crisp writing Altman and Keillor are known for, and an interesting storyline, "A Prairie Home Companion" is well-worth the effort to see (even though you may have to go a bit out of your way to do so). It's moving at times, and a bit surreal in places, but overall a thoroughly enjoyable slice of Americana.