“Fitting Tribute to Keillor’s Off-Kilter Variety Show”

My first exposure to Garrison Keillor was in the early 80s when I watched his “A Prairie Home Companion” variety show every Saturday night on the Disney Channel. As a teen I thought GK (as Keillor is frequently referred to in the movie) was dry and boring, and yet I found myself frequently chuckling at the exploits of the down-home folk of fabled Lake Wobegon, MN, where “the women are strong, the men are good-looking and all the children are above average.”

Much like the actual show, Robert Altman’s A Prairie Home Companion is a bizarre effort. The movie centers on the program’s final show, which is broadcast over the radio and also performed in front of a live audience at the F. Scott Fitzgerald Theater in downtown St. Paul, MN. The film’s synergistic appeal is due largely to the variegated acts that take place on stage as well as the wonderful character moments behind stage and in the dressing rooms, all of which unfurl in real-time.

Take security man Guy Noir (Kevin Cline) for instance; all of his bits are fittingly shot in a film noir style as if he’s a kind of backstage detective. And then there are the Johnson sisters, Yolanda (Meryl Streep) and Rhonda (Lily Tomlin), who very nearly steal the show with their witty, fast-paced dialogue and amusing anecdotes. Yolanda’s daughter, Lola (Lindsay Lohan), has a few scenes, but doesn’t really factor into the story in any significant sense. Two singing cowboys, Dusty (Woody Harrelson) and Lefty (John C. Reilly) bring the house down with their naughty, bawdy, rip-roaring song, “Bad Jokes.” The Academy will officially put the T in travesty if “Bad Jokes” isn’t nominated for an Oscar—the song is the undisputed highlight of the film.

Tommy Lee Jones plays Axeman, the stiff suit sent to shut down the show after its final performance. Axeman is the closest thing the movie has to an antagonist, but other than providing occasional reminders about the show’s demise, the character doesn’t add much to the film. The most avant-garde element in the movie is the mysterious appearance of The Dangerous Woman, played by the lovely Virginia Madsen. Living up to her name, the blonde, white-gowned beauty is a major departure from the traditionally-drawn grim reaper with dark robe and scythe. The Dangerous Woman will claim someone’s life by the end of the night, a dreadful realization that creates ample tension while raising the question: Which character will become her unwitting victim?

Altman (Nashville) was a natural choice to helm this project; few directors can rival his attention to detail and character or approach his genius at taking everyday situations and presenting them as new, unique or quirky reflections of reality. A Prairie Home Companion, like many of Altman’s films, is a cinematic odd bird, but it’s also charming and inspiring in subtle ways. Due to the movie’s singular focus, limiting locale and real-time narrative, some spectators might get antsy toward the middle of the film. Though most of the vignettes are entertaining, the movie has an accumulative resonance, the full impact of which can only be experienced when reflecting on the film as a whole.

A Prairie Home Companion succeeds at honoring Keillor’s variety show while wistfully whisking us back to the mythical and magical days of early Americana; where neighbors were neighborly, deals were made with a handshake and families sat around a box to be entertained at night: Radio, not TV. Keillor’s eclectic program will forever be remembered as a conduit to an earlier, simpler time when folks lived, loved and died...somewhere out on the prairie.

Rating: 3

Tags: Comedy, Drama, Music