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Robert Altman: Jumping Off the Cliff
Traces the life and career of Robert Altman and discusses the production and critical reception of each of his films
- GenresNonfiction
652 pages, Hardcover
First published July 15, 1989
2 people are currently reading
85 people want to read
About the author
Patrick McGilligan
45 books69 followersPatrick McGilligan is the author of Clint one of America’s pre-eminent film biographers. He has written the life stories of directors George Cukor and Fritz Lang — both New York Times “Notable Books” — and the Edgar-nominated Alfred Hitchcock: A Life in Darkness and Light. His books have been translated into ten languages. He lives in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.
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Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews
March 24, 2012
Inarguably one of the greatest biographies of a filmmaker ever written. McGilligan has his opinions of Altman's oeuvre, but he doesn't let them detract from the narrative, nor does he overanalyze Altman's artistic motivations or family life. It's far more comprehensive than the oral biography of Altman that was published after his death with his family's approval, and it ends in 1989 just as he was going into production on VINCENT & THEO.
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August 15, 2023La biografía termina de escribirse antes de que Robert Altman estrene Vincent y Theo. Esto significa que el autor no sabe aun lo que sucederá, tanto en los 90 como en Gosford Park y sin embargo, esta inconveniencia, la de lo inacabado de cualquier vida, no lastra su proyecto, incluso lo cimienta.
Así que un único reproche, para ser claros, y es el de no prestar atención suficiente a lo ya dado por sentado, especialmente por detractores, y es la etapa de los ochenta del cineasta, y aún así ¡aún así! sí que entiende bien las razones, inclinaciones o meandros.
Un punto fuerte, incuestionable, admirable, profundamente lúcido: la atención prestada a la etapa televisiva, el acceso a episodios ya perdidos de Combat.
Un punto memorable, experimental, inolvidable: la crónica oral de Nashville.
Una felicidad: la heroína de este libro es Geraldine Chaplin
Una polémica: con el burdo, fariseo y farsante Peter Biskind.
Una erudición desconocida: que Altman se hacía llamar Orson y fue mago.
No sé, es una obra maestra. Pat McGilligan es uno de los mejores, mi hente.
Así que un único reproche, para ser claros, y es el de no prestar atención suficiente a lo ya dado por sentado, especialmente por detractores, y es la etapa de los ochenta del cineasta, y aún así ¡aún así! sí que entiende bien las razones, inclinaciones o meandros.
Un punto fuerte, incuestionable, admirable, profundamente lúcido: la atención prestada a la etapa televisiva, el acceso a episodios ya perdidos de Combat.
Un punto memorable, experimental, inolvidable: la crónica oral de Nashville.
Una felicidad: la heroína de este libro es Geraldine Chaplin
Una polémica: con el burdo, fariseo y farsante Peter Biskind.
Una erudición desconocida: que Altman se hacía llamar Orson y fue mago.
No sé, es una obra maestra. Pat McGilligan es uno de los mejores, mi hente.
August 16, 2020
To describe this biography as “Altman-esque” would be lazy. That label would also be inaccurate. McGilligan’s account is enriching, well-researched, always entertaining. The book’s sprawl is an asset, though it lags most when the author over-editorializes and relies on metaphors and clichés to spoon-feed readers. The world was Altman’s oyster, and McGilligan leaves no stone unturned here!
Sometimes McGilligan’s lack of objectivity – admiration for the artist, disappointment in the man- works; in other parts, it’s a distraction. Overall, the book does more good than harm, and McGilligan deserves praise for his rigor in such an ambitious project. If this was an Altman film, it’d be "A Wedding": scattered and hectic at the margins, but, ultimately, it’s a party we’d hate to miss.
Sometimes McGilligan’s lack of objectivity – admiration for the artist, disappointment in the man- works; in other parts, it’s a distraction. Overall, the book does more good than harm, and McGilligan deserves praise for his rigor in such an ambitious project. If this was an Altman film, it’d be "A Wedding": scattered and hectic at the margins, but, ultimately, it’s a party we’d hate to miss.
June 2, 2022
hungrily ate this up in a matter of days. skipped the first 250 pages but so what. i don't want to hear about his toilsome tv/industrials days. highly informative read that's giving me a much clearer picture of the man, his working methods, and individual movies. lot to learn from and keep in mind. big respect for Altman and as with the books on Godard and Cassevetes i've read i feel so much more for the guy now. much love. could read individual books on brewster, mccabe, nashville, popeye, three women, just give me more!
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June 22, 2009Read the STOP SMILING interview with filmmaker Robert Altman
It's Okay With Me: Robert Altman
By James Hughes
(This interview originally appeared in STOP SMILING The Auteur Issue)
Midway through Robert Altman’s 1975 film Nashville, a bemused BBC reporter played by Geraldine Chaplin infiltrates the house party of Haven Hamilton, the crown jewel of Nashville’s music royalty. Regarding her majestic surroundings — a lush, tree-lined estate that looks more like a roadside stop from Wild Strawberries than the backwoods of Tennessee — Chaplin flatters her host by comparing the scene to a slice of Sweden’s premier auteur. “Bergman,” she cries. “Pure, unadulterated Bergman!” Taking one final glance at the locals — a honky-tonk group already tipsy on Jack Daniels — she revises her statement. “Of course the people are all wrong for Bergman, aren’t they?”
This small exchange, typically buried in a sound track dense with overlapping dialogue, encapsulates the essence of Robert Altman. His films have a European sensibility that echoes both the grandeur and the interior anguish of Ingmar Bergman and Federico Fellini. But the characters Altman chooses to occupy these arenas are quintessentially American. Faithful to his ever expanding stable of actors (Shelly Duvall, Michael Murphy, Lily Tomlin and Elliott Gould among them) Altman explores the lives of real people living in the forgotten recesses of a country often misrepresented by an overexposure of the two coasts. For over 50 years, Altman has created a cinematic landscape that stems from the heartland and branches out to every corner of the map: from the hazy Southwestern sprawl of California Split and 3 Women, through the clutter of Texas (Brewster McCloud and Dr. T and the Women) and quaintness of Kansas City, all the way up the bustling eastern seaboard, where the fictional presidential candidate Jack Tanner shamelessly canvassed for votes in ’88.
Robert Altman was born in Kansas City in 1925. After serving overseas in World War II, he returned to the Midwest and worked on industrial films for the Calvin Co. of Kansas City, eventually landing in the director’s chair for television series as diverse as “Alfred Hitchcock Presents” and “Bonanza.” With the success of MASH in 1970, Altman was tossed the keys to Hollywood’s most coveted projects, but chose instead to champion more personal films. Despite his continuous critical acclaim, he remains in the distinguished company of Alfred Hitchcock, Martin Scorsese and King Vidor — all Best Director nominees shut out five times by the Academy. But Altman seems unaffected by the allure of awards, and even more so by the demands and labels of the press. As Philip Marlowe would mumble in Altman’s exquisite adaptation of Raymond Chandler’s The Long Goodbye, “It’s okay with me.”
Fresh off a rebirth from Gosford Park in 2002, which catapulted him back into the public eye with the same force as The Player in 1991, Altman has recently seen some of his greatest unreleased works preserved on DVD, and he now embraces digital technology. His last two features — The Company and the just-wrapped A Prairie Home Companion — were shot on high-definition video. And, as Altman reveals from his well-equipped production office in Midtown Manhattan, he’s not surprised to see film become a thing of the past.
Read the complete interview...
It's Okay With Me: Robert Altman
By James Hughes
(This interview originally appeared in STOP SMILING The Auteur Issue)
Midway through Robert Altman’s 1975 film Nashville, a bemused BBC reporter played by Geraldine Chaplin infiltrates the house party of Haven Hamilton, the crown jewel of Nashville’s music royalty. Regarding her majestic surroundings — a lush, tree-lined estate that looks more like a roadside stop from Wild Strawberries than the backwoods of Tennessee — Chaplin flatters her host by comparing the scene to a slice of Sweden’s premier auteur. “Bergman,” she cries. “Pure, unadulterated Bergman!” Taking one final glance at the locals — a honky-tonk group already tipsy on Jack Daniels — she revises her statement. “Of course the people are all wrong for Bergman, aren’t they?”
This small exchange, typically buried in a sound track dense with overlapping dialogue, encapsulates the essence of Robert Altman. His films have a European sensibility that echoes both the grandeur and the interior anguish of Ingmar Bergman and Federico Fellini. But the characters Altman chooses to occupy these arenas are quintessentially American. Faithful to his ever expanding stable of actors (Shelly Duvall, Michael Murphy, Lily Tomlin and Elliott Gould among them) Altman explores the lives of real people living in the forgotten recesses of a country often misrepresented by an overexposure of the two coasts. For over 50 years, Altman has created a cinematic landscape that stems from the heartland and branches out to every corner of the map: from the hazy Southwestern sprawl of California Split and 3 Women, through the clutter of Texas (Brewster McCloud and Dr. T and the Women) and quaintness of Kansas City, all the way up the bustling eastern seaboard, where the fictional presidential candidate Jack Tanner shamelessly canvassed for votes in ’88.
Robert Altman was born in Kansas City in 1925. After serving overseas in World War II, he returned to the Midwest and worked on industrial films for the Calvin Co. of Kansas City, eventually landing in the director’s chair for television series as diverse as “Alfred Hitchcock Presents” and “Bonanza.” With the success of MASH in 1970, Altman was tossed the keys to Hollywood’s most coveted projects, but chose instead to champion more personal films. Despite his continuous critical acclaim, he remains in the distinguished company of Alfred Hitchcock, Martin Scorsese and King Vidor — all Best Director nominees shut out five times by the Academy. But Altman seems unaffected by the allure of awards, and even more so by the demands and labels of the press. As Philip Marlowe would mumble in Altman’s exquisite adaptation of Raymond Chandler’s The Long Goodbye, “It’s okay with me.”
Fresh off a rebirth from Gosford Park in 2002, which catapulted him back into the public eye with the same force as The Player in 1991, Altman has recently seen some of his greatest unreleased works preserved on DVD, and he now embraces digital technology. His last two features — The Company and the just-wrapped A Prairie Home Companion — were shot on high-definition video. And, as Altman reveals from his well-equipped production office in Midtown Manhattan, he’s not surprised to see film become a thing of the past.
Read the complete interview...
September 16, 2010
For Altman fans only. I loved reading it, but it is rather poorly written and mainly just gossip.
Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews