In Memory . . .

Robert Altman died last night. He was only 81. Now, I understand that 81 isn’t usually an age that we say such things about. But Mr. Altman was not a man that did things the way that they were “usually” done. He made a name for himself in the 1970’s, when a director with a camera could make just about any kind of movie that he or she wanted. He did just that, and then some.

I’m rather new to Altman’s work, as I’ve only been a fan for about a year and a half. The first film of his that I ever saw is still my favorite. This film, Gosford Park, has actually become one of my favorite movies of all time. More recently, Altman’s most recent film, A Prairie Home Companion is one of my favorite films of the year. It was a curious thing. When it was over, I couldn’t really tell you exactly what it was about, but I knew that I loved it.

If one thing could be said about Robert Altman, it’s that he wasn’t interested in doing what everyone else was doing. Not only that, but he could take a format like a whodunit or a small town drama that you think you understand and turn it on its head. Despite the fact that he wasn’t getting any younger, he never stopped making films. That’s what’s really so sad about his death for me; I know that his work wasn’t completed. Even though he has left us with so many films, I can’t help thinking that there should have been more. We have lost a great man.