Review

Review Date: 11-June-06
Spoiler Rating: High
Juju Judgment: Juicy

A Prairie Home Companion (2006)

If memory serves, I have never listened to an entire broadcast of Garrison Keillor's radio show, A Prairie Home Companion, and have only heard snippets of it once or twice. So I can't speak to whether Robert Altman's new homage to the show offers special delights to its fans, and perhaps I don't need to. This is, after all, a major motion picture which should and does stand on its own. "A Prairie Home Companion" is a bewitching piece of visual and aural entertainment.

Bewitching and a little strange. Let's start with the first attribute. A person would have to be seriously numb or desensitized (or maybe under 20 or from L.A.) to resist the vibe of Altman/Keillor's world set in a beautiful old playhouse where a troop of weathered performers is delivering its last hurrah. The premise of the film is that the eponymous program has been shut down by greed and the passage of time. On the night of the final broadcast, "G.K." goes about his business (singing, chatting, being an unassuming Minnesotan) while his gal Friday (Maya Rudolph) keeps him on target and his players take stock of life at the crossroads. Singing sisters Yolanda (Meryl Streep) and Rhonda (Lily Tomlin) reminisce about family history to the coolly cynical but interested audience of Yolanda's daughter (Lindsay Lohan). Singing cowboys Dusty (Woody Harrelson) and Lefty (John C. Reilly) lounge about in stances of overstated male coarseness. An aged crooner canoodles with his lady love; the sound effects guy just tries to stay afloat. And every so often one or two of them gets up and sings a song fit to make your heart swell or your belly laugh.

Now for the strange side. As Guy Noir, the troop's hard-boiled head of security, Kevin Kline provides behind-the-scenes slapstick while pursuing a mysterious blonde (Virginia Madsen) who gives new meaning to the concept of theatrical angel. This femme fatale can only be described as creepy, particularly towards the end when she exacts vengeance on the corporate shark who bought out the show (Tommy Lee Jones) simply because he doesn't respect old-time radio. (Heartless? Yes. Immoral? No.) I only wish Keillor's script gave less time to her and more to Lohan's character, who could have used a better buildup for the payoff she receives. (Plus, Lohan's quite a charmer and not at all creepy even though she harps on death.)

But despite the sinister undertones of the Kline/Madsen segment, it's pleasant to watch the movie and succumb to the spell cast by the companions on stage. Altman has put his penchant for loose narrative to good use in creating a musical-magical microcosm that actually feels like home.

Copyright © 2006 The Jujube (M. I. Kim). All rights reserved.