A Prairie Home Companion

This isn't an easy movie to review. I've been looking forward to it all year and I enjoyed it, but I can't really recommend it, unless you're already a fan of either director Robert Altman and/or radio show host/author Garrison Keillor. Which are two very specific types of audiences. If you're curious it certainly wouldn't hurt to rent one of Altman's sprawling mundane epics, such as "Nashville" or "Short Cuts." Or, at the very least, heading on over to Prairiehome.publicradio.org should lead you to an episode of their weekly radio show. Now, it's not necessary to do either one of these things to understand the movie, but as a precaution, you should know the type of entertainment that you're getting yourself into. Because neither Altman or Keillor are like anything else out there.

Perhaps a description of the radio show is in order. A Prairie Home Companion--the radio show-- is a public radio fixture; an unoffensive mix of comedy sketches, gospel/Americana music, and that most archaic form of entertainment--storytelling. And you'd be hard-pressed to find a more genuinely gifted storyteller than Garrison Keillor. He has a face that reminds you of Droopy Dog and a soothing voice reminescent of a midwestern Frasier Crane. He's a skilled writer as well, and while his books sell just fine, it's hard to divorce his stories from that deep, resonanting voice of comfort that encapsulates warmth, intelligence, and compassion. He's the perfect radio star. There's really no one else like him. Keillor is to radio like Michael Jordon is to basketball.

So it's an interesting gamble to pair the storytelling strengths of Keillor with the directing skills of Robert Altman. Altman's films, when working, have been praised for their near-rebellious sense of inventiveness and improvisation. However, one does not go to an Altman flick out of a desire to follow a compelling narrative. Story, has always been incidental to Altman. Character, cinema verite dialogue, and a directing style that verges on eavesdropping have always been Altman hallmarks. He may be using the same canvas as other filmmakers, but he's not interested in using the same pallette of colors--at least in the same ways as they have been done before. It's all about finding the moment, instead of creating it. It could be argued that he isn't even making films in the traditional sense...he's making *impressions*.

Which brings us to the merging of these two disparate styles. Strangely, the movie does work in spite of these differences. But it works more as an Altman film than a filmed radio show. Whether or not that is a good thing is a value judgement depending on your preference. Keillor's best moments are when the viewer gets to experience the most undiluted aspects of the radio show... his snappy introductions, the gorgeous, heartfelt music, the gently teasing odes to radio the way it used to be--the powdered milk jingles, the introduction song to the show, etc. Altman's style doesn't overwhelm Keillor's storytelling skills, but they definitely get transmuted at some point... Not necessarily to the detriment of the film, however. For the film, it becomes a nice, jazzy duet that could only be created by these two artists.

The cast is game for the requiste improvisations, which are inherent in an Altman film. Meryl Streep gives another honest performance, transforming herself into an unaffected Midwestern mother, both vulnerable and funny. Lily Tomlin, an Altman veteran, meanders in and out of the script with considerable skill. And any film where Lindsay Lohan and Garrison Keillor manage to share an authentic on-screen rapport has got to be doing something right.

So, in the end, this is a mixed review. For fans of Altman or Keillor, I'd give it 3 stars and say, absolutely, go see it. It works. Mostly. Everyone else... Well, a Robert Altman film can be off-putting. Let's face it... The guy demands you go into the film with a little bit of patience. Meandering is putting it nicely. However, it's important to note, that Keillor, when he's on top of his game makes meandering quite entertaining. The actual radio show is enormously entertaining and is such an apex of radio programming, that it is no wonder that the film almost seems superfluous at this point. Only radio could do this type of gentle nostalgia. The movie and the radio show offer simple pleasures. They do not offer huge belly laughs, exploding cars, or sexual situations. You have to admire the restraint of any film with Lindsay Lohan that does not show any skin besides her hands and face. What does the film offer then? It offers a dry, gentle wit that is not interested in sarcastic venom. It teases as well as venerates Americana. It is charming and pleasant at a time when those two virtues are a rarity. If this interests you, listen to the radio show. If you're still interested, watch the movie.