¡Viva Altman!

I can't think of a more infuriating director than Robert Altman. Responsible for some of the most wondrous, idiosyncratic films of all time (M.A.S.H, McCabe & Mrs. Miller, The Long Goodbye, Nashville, 3 Women, Vincent & Theo, The Player – films whose poetry is vulgar, offbeat, and distinctly American), he's also capable of enterprises of stupefying badness (Buffalo Bill & The Indians, Health, Ready to Wear, Kansas City, The Company) as well as near-misses (California Split, 3 Women, Short Cuts, Gingerbread Man, Gosford Park). The guy is almost 80, has fought with studios for almost half those years, and shows no signs of quitting. On the evidence of McCabe & Mrs. Miller alone I could make a case for him as the greatest American filmmaker of the last half-century (and I've yet to see Thieves Like Us).

So, it is with a mixture of delight and scorn that I applaud the Academy of Motion Picture Arts & Sciences for awarding Altman an honorary Oscar – his first, after five nominations as Best Director. Yup, the same honorary Oscar that Orson Welles, Alfred Hitchcock, Jean Renoir, Howard Hawks, and Martin Scorsese have won when the Academy, in shame and embarassment, ignores the fact that it rewarded George Roy Hill, John G. Avildsen, and Kevin Costner instead. Terrence Rafferty's generous essay is a nice overview of Altman's career; it's also got a few pungent insights, like this one about McCabe & Mrs. Miller: "It's the only movie I know of in which you can watch a community come into existence, changing and growing before your eyes" (it's also the only movie to find images correlative to the soundtrack, i.e. composed of Leonard Cohen songs. Convinced yet? Go rent the fucking film already).