In the world of movies, certain filmmakers have distinctive styles that easily allow moviegoers to identify their films. For instance, it's not difficult to pick out a Woody Allen picture, or tell if the latest summer blockbuster was produced by testosterone happy Jerry Bruckheimer.
The same can't be said about director Robert Altman. From highly acclaimed and entertaining films such as "The Player," "M*A*S*H" and "Nashville," to others such as "Popeye" and "McCabe and Mrs. Miller" -- to name just a few out of the more than thirty he's helmed -- Altman excels at delivering varied and unique films that show no signs -- beyond their usual high quality and talented ensemble casts -- of being interrelated to one another or him.
His latest release, the low-key, small town dramedy, "Cookie's Fortune," further illustrates that point. Feeling and appearing as different as "Popeye" is to "Short Cuts," Altman delivers an interesting, but not entirely compelling character driven picture. Easygoing and entertaining in its own laid-back fashion, the film might disappoint fans who like his more sharply satirical works, and will most likely zip off to video stores faster than you can say, "Y'all come back now, ya hear?"
Something of an eclectic version of "The Andy Griffith Show" as filtered through "Twin Peaks" with a bit of "Blanche Dubois-ishness" thrown in for good measure, the film features uniquely drawn characters and a moderately intriguing premise.
Unfortunately, it's plot -- courtesy of first time screenwriter Anne Rapp -- while perfectly capturing the proper mood and feel of small town eccentricity, ultimately leaves its characters -- and subsequently the audience -- high and dry with nowhere to go. For some audiences that might not be a big deal -- as they'll be lulled into an easygoing appreciation of the characters and the film's relaxed pace -- but for those more concerned with interesting or complex plots, this might turn into a bit of a frustrating disappointment.
What's odd about the film is that it's being billed as a comedic murder mystery -- and we even received a notice not to give away its "whodunit" aspect. While that's normally the proper thing to do, the problem here is that there's no mystery present.
Everyone who sees the film will know exactly what happens to the eccentric matriarch, and the push to turn this into a mystery is obviously more the efforts of the studio's marketing department than Altman.
Although the omission of one key scene would have turned this picture into that type of film -- and in hindsight may have been the better route to take -- Altman and Rapp are apparently more concerned with how their characters will react to the pivotal event. For most of them, all of it's a mystery, while the audience -- who've been given superior position and know all of the important details -- is supposed to enjoy their subsequent shenanigans.
While superior position can often be an effective cinematic tool, two problems exist with it here. For starters, if there's going to be a mystery of any sort, audiences like to be involved in it. Knowing the full truth ahead of time ruins the effect of trying to figure it out for ourselves and is somewhat analogous to knowing the mechanics of a magic trick but trying to find enjoyment out of watching those who don't. It can be entertaining for a while, but without any major developments, its cruise control approach eventually becomes somewhat boring.
That's where the second problem arises. While the characters are richly drawn and act as if some grew up in Mayberry (where everybody knows everyone and prisoners stay in their cells not because they're locked in -- and they're not -- but because it's the proper thing to do), a film can't completely ride off those characterizations and this one is a prime example of that.
Although some might not complain about spending a lazy hour or so with some fun characters, that doesn't exactly make the best use of thousands of feet of film. To make such matters worse, the film can't figure out when to end and goes on through several scenes that could have been left out. When it finally does conclude, it does so in the middle of a scene just when the audience is trying to figure where it's next headed.
Fortunately -- and as is the case with many of Altman's other films -- a wide variety of interesting characters are present throughout the film and at least keep things entertaining for much of its duration. While no one character or performance hogs the spotlight, several roles and the thespians who inhabit them are worth particularly noting.
Glenn Close ("Fatal Attraction," "101 Dalmatians") -- no stranger to playing the over-the-top villainess -- is quite good as the imperious theatrical director, although at times one thinks she's on the verge of perhaps a bit too much overacting.
Former big screen star and Oscar winner Patricia Neal ("Hud," "The Subject Was Roses") is particularly compelling and effective as the lonely eccentric, but as is evident by the plot description, makes an unfortunate but ultimately catalytic farewell early in the story.
The best performance, however, comes from Charles Dutton ("Mimic," "Get on the Bus"). While a bit more development and screen time would have benefitted his performance and the film overall -- especially when his later incarceration further robs the film of some precious momentum -- Dutton delivers a superbly honed performance.
Supporting roles are generally good although some obviously have more meat to them. While Chris O'Donnell ("Batman and Robin," "The Chamber") and Ned Beatty ("Deliverance," "Network") do their best to collectively play the Barney Fife bumbling deputy character, Liv Tyler ("Armageddon," "Stealing Beauty") does a decent job as the town's young rebel with a heart.
Julianne Moore ("Boogie Nights," "The Lost World"), however, is pretty much wasted, as is Lyle Lovett ("The Opposite of Sex," "The Player") -- an Altman supporting character favorite -- who appears to have had most of his performance left on the cutting room floor.
Much like "The Andy Griffith Show," this easygoing film has the requisite Southern feel and charm to sooth audiences (courtesy of cinematographer Toyomichi Kurita and David A. Stewart's Robert Johnson influenced, soulful blues score) and the rich characterizations may allow many to forgive the film's otherwise lackluster story. Not a great film, but certainly a pleasant one, this might not be one of Altman's better efforts, but is clearly one of his most accessible. For that and notwithstanding our plot-related objections, we give "Cookie's Fortune" a 6 out of 10.