A Prairie Home Companion

Robert Altman's latest was clunky and shambly (is this a word?). It doesn't really hold together as a film, but more of a showcase of the PHC juggernaut that is Garrison Kiellor's eternal legacy. His script is so self-serving, I was put off. First, there's no way Meryl Streep's Yolanda Johnson had her heart broken by GK of all people. That guy? I mean, yea, he can sing, but... Anyway, it's not sci-fi.

Which brings me to my next point. Keillor's bit of clever (N)oir is a little too cheeky and amateurish for me. The thing reads a little like a Devin Tanchum script, I'm just waiting for the angel in the white trenchcoat to have a body double. And the few juicy lines are hacked and contrived: Lindsay Lohan's bitter accusation that "someone's dead" and GK's not even going to say anything. You know, nobody really said anything. I wonder how long the corpse sat down there in the basement. Giving off more gas than it took in.

Which brings me to my next point. The trail-hands were well-written, but they were just concentrating too damn hard on hitting the notes to really shine. Those jokes were really funny, though. Woody Harrelson told them with such boyish menace.

Meryl Streep underplayed it perfectly, Tommy Lee Jones has zero comic timing (although that's assuming GK's lines are actually funny), and Lindsay Lohan is out of place, drifting. Why is she in an Altman movie? Jesus, and Kevin Kline's Guy Noir! What the hell? Where did he go at the end? What was the solution? They conspired to murder the Axeman? Yolanda's daughter singing the last song of the show somehow brings it full circle? I think not. Scriptwriting 101: It's deserved, but is it earned?

Am I sounding bitter? Maybe it's a punk gesture. The Prairie Home Companion is just too sacred not to want to spit all over it.