SCHWARTZ: And here is Robert Altman. (Applause)
ALTMAN: Thank you, thank you. I hadn’t seen that movie [Kansas City] in a long time.
SCHWARTZ: Well, some of the people who loved this movie when it
came out said that it’s going to hold the test of time. It’s one of
those movies that people will look back at ten years from now. And now
it’s ten years later.
ALTMAN: Well, the music in it is just—in itself, is classic. Those
players are... You’ll never see them together again. To me, I wanted
the jazz to be as much as the film.
SCHWARTZ: You’ve described this as a movie that’s made in the style
of jazz, in a way; that—not just that there’s music in the film, but
that it has sort of a... The movie is—like this conversation, the movie
is in the style of jazz. (Laughs) Not just that it has music in it, but
that you...
ALTMAN: No, the structure of—or the way we did the scenes... It
just kind of bled off, one thing onto another. The scenes were highly
improvised. Harry [Belafonte]’s scenes, that long—those monologues he
has with Dermot Mulroney. Those were—you know, they were jazz riffs.
And each character in this play had a musical connection. I don’t know
how this film holds up.
SCHWARTZ: Yeah. I think it holds up quite well. It’s a beautifully crafted movie, for one thing. (Applause)
ALTMAN: Well, yeah, it’s beautifully shot.
SCHWARTZ: Not just in terms of the musicians, but the
craftsmanship, the photography. One thing I love about the movie is the
editing. This was one of the movies edited by Geraldine Peroni, who did
a brilliant job, who passed away a few years ago, but she was a great
editor.
ALTMAN: She died during the—she was editing Ang Lee’s film Brokeback Mountain.
And her assistant, who had worked—did the music editing and stuff—on
this film, went ahead and finished that picture. Dylan Tichenor. And he
now works mostly for Paul Thomas Anderson. He works on all of his
films. And Dona Granata [in the audience], this was the first time I
had Dona as a costume designer. And it was a beautiful job. And all
those cars. Where’d I get all those cars? (Laughter)
SCHWARTZ: I’m sure this was not a huge-budget film; [yet] there’s a
lot of attention paid to the detail, the production design, the look of
the film.
ALTMAN: Yeah. No, it was—I can’t remember what it cost, but not a lot.
SCHWARTZ: And how did the impulse to make a film [called] Kansas City come about? You obviously were raised in Kansas City, started your film career...
ALTMAN: Well, Frank Barhydt, who co-wrote this with me and has
worked for me—he’s from Kansas City. And we were doing—I think it was Tanner ’88;
we were doing the editing. And we were just sitting there in that
editing room, and Frank and I just started talking a lot. And we kind
of dug into our Kansas City lore. His father was a friend, a
contemporary of mine. And we just started noodling on it, and came up
with this kind of story. And these are all pieces of stories that I had
heard growing up. My father was not far separated from the culture of
those people, so I had heard all those stories. And you know, during
the Depression, which is when this time was, they didn’t close a bar in
Kansas City. They just didn’t pay any attention to it. And you’d see
all these things about bootlegging and all that. It was just wide open.
And with connections to the White House, right on down through. And the
musicians gathered there, and kind of—it became a music town, because
all these bands were forming and going west, and doing those
high-school graduations and proms. They’d get out on the road and
they’d get stuck. The band would break up or they’d get broke, and they
ended up kind of hanging out in Kansas City. And the night of this
film, in the Hey Hey Club, was a Monday night. And on Monday nights,
the bars—the clubs were dark. But all the musicians came out and just
came in, went from club to club and kind of jammed. It was quite a
time.
SCHWARTZ: What was your experience of this music where you were
growing up? I read one story that you were introduced to jazz by a
black woman who worked in your house.
ALTMAN: Yeah. And it was “Solitude,” was the thing. I’ll never
forget it; she said—I remember we were in the living room, and she
said, “Bobby, now sit down and listen to this.” (Laughter) And I said,
“What?” And she said, “Just sit down.” I remember I sat on, like, a
footstool, in front of a radio, and she said, “This is the best music
there ever was.” And it was “Solitude.” And it just stayed in my mind.
I mean, it’s in this film twice. We did two nods to it.
SCHWARTZ: And tell us a bit about Kansas City, your work in Kansas
City. Early in your film career, you actually went out to Hollywood,
tried to make it out there, and came back to Kansas City and spent a
lot of time making industrials back there.
ALTMAN: I made industrial and documentary films, and anything I could lie myself through.
SCHWARTZ: So that was your film school, in a way.
ALTMAN: That was my—yeah, there were no film schools then; it
was... But I worked for this place called the Calvin Company. And we
made films for How to Run a Filling Station and—instructional films. And I did a lot of sports-rules films for high schools, and... Anything. Action.
SCHWARTZ: And was it true that before you left Hollywood to go back
to Kansas City, you started a business where you came up with a way to
tattoo identification labels on dogs?
ALTMAN: Yes, I did. I tattooed... (Laughter) That was my real job.
I tattooed dogs. I went to Washington, when Harry Truman was president,
and I tattooed his dog. (Laughter) I was the tattooer. My other two
partners just took the money and, ultimately, ran.
SCHWARTZ: Now, you said something when you got your honorary
Academy Award this year. You said that you view your films as
sandcastles. You used this metaphor. And that’s, of course, the name of
your production company [Sandcastle 5 Productions]. But the films
really don’t go away. The films stay around.
ALTMAN: Well, they stay in my memory, like the... But when I say
that, I mean that one film—it’s all one film. Just different chapters,
they seem like now.
SCHWARTZ: And how does this film—how much of it is sort of about
your memories of how Kansas City actually was, versus a sort of
fanciful...?
ALTMAN: I mean, it’s a romanticized version of, probably, what
really happened. But it wasn’t far off. All those things happened;
those places were there. That place where the sister shot the gun at
her, and where Steve Buscemi was gathering those guys together to go
out on that voting thing, that... When we were there, it was there, of
course. And my dad used to own a garage just around the corner from
that—that club was going then. And it was one of those clubs where the
waitresses didn’t wear any clothes.
And they had a unique way of picking tips up off the table.
Fifty-cent pieces. People would go in there and have a drink, and
they’d tip big tips. (Laughter) I didn’t put that in the
movie.(Laughter)
SCHWARTZ: I think it’s the last film of yours where you actually
have a screenwriting credit, one of the main writing credits. You’ve
been involved, of course, in writing, at different levels, in all your
films. But can you talk a bit about what the writing process is like?
How do you leave it open to then go after this freedom?
ALTMAN: Each project has different DNA. During the eighties, I took several theater pieces, Streamers and Come Back to the Five and Dime, Jimmy Dean[, Jimmy Dean],
things like that, and took them right off the stage. Didn’t have a
screenplay at all; we just took the Samuel French book and put a fourth
wall in, and shot it exactly like I would set up the theater piece.
And this credit business on... You look at the end of this picture.
If you enjoy the music, it’s okay. But my God! You know, most of those
people, you couldn’t find out who they are. I don’t know half of them.
And the list gets longer every film. I think it says, “Legal services
by so-and-so, so-and-so,” you know. And so we’re doomed (Laughter) to
that sort of thing.
Well, I don’t think you want to just see a bunch of names. And even
if it’s your mother or daughter or son or what, you’re the only one
that’s going to know it. “Oh, look, there’s Charlie’s name!”
SCHWARTZ: (Laughs) Okay, well, maybe we won’t show the credits
during the rest of the retrospective, (Laughter) for all the films.
ALTMAN: Well, I try to use that space up, because I have to do it; so there’s usually some good music going on...
SCHWARTZ: The way that you approach dialogue—there’s something
wonderful about it, which is that you don’t feel like you always have
to have people talking. You observe characters. Miranda Richardson, in
her whole last scene, doesn’t say anything. We just get to watch her
think.
ALTMAN: That’s what it is. And you know, different situations call
for different things. And also, then, the actors you get, these are the
people that really do this work. And they have a different style. And I
want to incorporate that. I want to take the positives, or the—what I
want to see from them. And sometimes it’s silence.
SCHWARTZ: I know this is something that you must be asked a lot,
because acting is so important in your films, but how do you create the
atmosphere on the set where this can happen?
ALTMAN: Oh... I have no way of answering. I don’t know. I don’t
know. We just get up in the morning, and people show up, and you say,
“Well, we’re going to do this.” And you’re paying attention to the set
and the props, and setting the camera, and then pretty soon the actors
are there, and it’s all happening.
SCHWARTZ: Harry Belafonte, who had done some wonderful movies in the late fifties, and then up through Uptown Saturday Night, into the seventies—this was, in a way, a comeback for him, as a film actor. Could you talk a bit about working with him?
ALTMAN: Well, Harry’s the best. He’s a very, very close friend of
mine, and I love him dearly. And he and I worked for, oh, a long time.
He made an appearance—he was in The Player. He made an appearance in The Player, as himself. And then... And he and I worked on an Amos ’n’ Andy project for about three or four years. And I can’t remember whether that was before, during... I think it was before we did Kansas City.
SCHWARTZ: Before this was made, right.
ALTMAN: Yeah. And he’s a great artist, and he’s a great person.
SCHWARTZ: What happened with the Amos ’n’ Andy project? That was a fascinating idea.
ALTMAN: We just—it was too big. It was too big for us. It was too
big a project. My ambitions, I think, were too high on it. It became
extraordinarily expensive. And nobody wanted to pay for it because they
said, “In the long run, who really cares?”
SCHWARTZ: What was it that made you want to do it? What was it about...
ALTMAN: What, Amos ’n’ Andy?
SCHWARTZ: Yes.
ALTMAN: Well, I think the story of it is just—is fabulous. The
beginning of vaudeville, and the music, and this whole history of these
people coming from the slaves and—where they weren’t even allowed
musical instruments. And they made up their own musical instruments.
And it just indicated to me that, you know, people are going to whistle
in their life, no matter how tough it is. And it became a real history.
It was a big, big part of this—Kansas City and American music. All
these bands. Most of them were black guys. And they created a music
that didn’t exist anywhere else. And still doesn’t.
SCHWARTZ: What I’d love to know about you and Harry Belafonte is
what your discussions are like about politics, because you’ve both been
so outspoken in the past few years.
ALTMAN: Well, we tend to agree on a lot of things.
SCHWARTZ: (Repeats audience question) Okay. So Union Station was rebuilt for the film?
ALTMAN: It [Union Station] was totally trashed. And I grew up, as a
kid; some of my—when I was three years old, we would always have to go
to the station to meet my Uncle Howard, when he was coming in for
Christmas or these different times, and we’d go down... I remember I
lost a balloon, one of those... And it went all the way to the ceiling.
I just had—in my own memory—that was a big, big place in my life. And
when we got there, we went to the city, and it was nothing. And we
redid—they let us redo half of it. And then as they saw what was
happening, they kind of supported us in other things. And I think
that’s still open.
SCHWARTZ: I think that there’s a museum there, actually.
ALTMAN: Yeah, I think there’s a museum there now. But it kept that
building from going down. That was one of the original train stations.
They were all—all the train stations like that were designed after some
place in Germany.
SCHWARTZ : (Repeats audience question) Okay, so just the way—about
[how] the political process often becomes a part of the film, the
campaign and the election bringing people out.
ALTMAN: In some of those films, it’s kind of what it’s about. Certainly, Nashville
was. But those things are, I think, they’re very—they impress me. I
think they’re very important. I like to have a sense of when a story’s
going on or things are going on in the small thing, that they’re set
into a larger dynamic, with these elections and things. Anyway, I pay
attention to it.
SCHWARTZ: (Repeats audience question) How do you cast your films? How do you select actors?
ALTMAN: I kind of just kind of go to whoever I’m... If I meet a guy
in a bar, and I’m getting ready to shoot a film, and I say, “Oh,
listen, you want to be in my film?” (Laughter) I mean, they remind you
of themselves, and... You know, we go after—we have certain people; you
say, “Oh, I want so-and-so in this film.” And you can’t get them, for
various reasons, and it just grows like Topsy, in a way. I don’t know,
really, how it happens. The phone starts ringing.
SCHWARTZ: (Repeats audience question) If you could talk about your decision process: How do you decide which films to make?
ALTMAN: I decide which films to make by the ones I get the money to make. (Laughter) And that’s the truth.
SCHWARTZ: Have you written many films that have not gotten made?
ALTMAN: Well, I’ve been involved in lots of films that didn’t get
made. But I’ve never done a script and then gone out and tried to sell
it or make it. I’ve always done the film. It’s a process—and I finally
stopped putting my name on the credits, because there’s so many names
on the credits, and there’s so many people that do all this stuff. And
it doesn’t mean anything. To give the credit in all the films I’ve
made—say, “Who is the writer that was the most responsible for
them?”—that would be the actors. Because they’re the ones that are
improvising, and they’re showing me what these characters are. And I’m
just saying, “Ooh, that’s great. Let’s do this, let’s do that.”
SCHWARTZ: Well, I think everybody here knows you’re being a little modest right now, about that, about your role.
ALTMAN: Well, yes and no. (Laughter)
SCHWARTZ: Just following up on that question about getting projects made, how much did The Player
change things? You talked about that as your third comeback film, that
you had been doing a lot of cable projects. And it seems like after The Player, things must’ve changed for you.
ALTMAN: Well, you know, it got more attention and got awards and
all that, and you get... But that’s always what happens. The most
popular... The film of mine that’s made the most money and the most—is M*A*S*H.
And I’ll never over-shoot that, I don’t think. I don’t know. It’s just,
you know, you kind of just go through your life, and an occurrence
happens. After M*A*S*H, I could’ve done almost anything I wanted.
SCHWARTZ: Yeah.
ALTMAN: And a guy came to me with the Brewster McCloud
idea, and I said, “Oh, let’s do that.” And it was—people—my agents and
everybody said, “Oh, you don’t want to do that. Let’s go and get
Fredric March and do something really big.” (Laughter) But that’s what
I wanted to do. And then McCabe & Mrs. Miller was the same way. We just went up to Canada and made this cheap little Western.
SCHWARTZ: You didn’t feel like something special was going on? I mean, you were actually, I think, around 44 when you made M*A*S*H…
ALTMAN: Yeah.
SCHWARTZ: Because you had a lot of experience in series television. And then one after the other, California Split, The Long Goodbye... I mean, you’re talking about these…
ALTMAN: Well, those all came rather—fairly easily.
SCHWARTZ: Okay. But they’re quite—I mean, they really changed how films were made. They were very...
ALTMAN: And none of them really broke through. None of them was... Nashville, oddly enough, which most people know a lot about, was probably one of the lowest-grossing films I’ve ever made. And McCabe & Mrs. Miller was the lowest-grossing film. (Laughter) I mean, McCabe & Mrs. Miller
just died when it came out. And then something happened in Europe or
someplace, and it started popping up on these “Best Twenty,” “Best
Fifty Films” lists and things like that. But I don’t think that many
people bought tickets to see it.
SCHWARTZ: (Repeats audience question) Can you name some of the
actors who were most surprising to you, in what they brought to the
film or the performance?
ALTMAN: Well, Elliott Gould was great. What he brought to The Long Goodbye was just staggering. And I just followed him around. And I just finished working on this A Prairie Home Companion, this film that opens in June. And you’re going to show it here.
SCHWARTZ: That’s right, we’re showing it on June 8.
ALTMAN: And I’d never worked with Meryl Streep before. And we shot
the first day, a long, long scene with Meryl and Lily [Tomlin] and
Lindsay Lohan and... And I went home that night, and I was depressed. I
mean, she is so good. I went home, I told Kathryn [Reed, his wife], I
said, “You know, I didn’t have to be there.” (Laughter) It wouldn’t
have made a whit’s difference whether I was there or not. And she’s not
pushy, she’s not... She’s just the nicest person to everybody. But she
just is 25, 30 percent above everybody. I mean, she just knows. It’s
just something in her. And so you don’t interfere with that.
SCHWARTZ: Tell us about—I think Jennifer Jason Leigh is a great actress. What was she like to work with on this film?
ALTMAN: Well, she’s great. Jennifer...
SCHWARTZ: And you worked with her father [Vic Morrow]. You directed her father in Combat!
ALTMAN: Well, yeah, in Combat! And her mother [Barbara
Turner] has done screenplays for me. Actually worked as an actress for
me once. But Jennifer—we got a lot of a criticism after this film came
out about her acting, that she over-acted in this, she was too hammy.
But I didn’t think so, and that’s exactly what I wanted. I thought her
performance was delicious.
SCHWARTZ: I know her working process is incredibly intense, and
she’s somebody who does incredible preparation. But can you say
anything about that?
ALTMAN: Well, these actors, when they do all that preparation, they
don’t tell me about it. (Laughter) You know, they do it. And they’re
very secretive about their process. They don’t... You know, I don’t
talk to an actor very much, once we cast them. And we have a little
blah-blah-blah about the picture. And then I usually bore them with,
“Oh, I’m going to shoot it with this kind of a lens and that kind of
camera.” (Laughter) And you know, then we just go. And once you start
shooting, you don’t have time for those conversations. You’re just
dealing with the moment. And I think if we shoot a scene in any of
these films on a—we shot it on a Tuesday; had we shot it on a Thursday,
the whole film could’ve been different.
Many of my friends will sit down and do lots of readings, and
they’ll do rehearsals—they love to rehearse, and... And the actors
always love to rehearse. I don’t like rehearsing too much, because I—in
most cases—because I think it gets tired. I like to have it really
fresh, to my mind, so I can get excited about it. I think.
AUDIENCE MEMBER: I just wanted to ask you about some of the
recurring themes that you use from film to film. Like the American
flag, et cetera, et cetera.
ALTMAN: Well, I don’t really know. These things come up, and I
don’t really—am not really aware that I’m being that blatant. But
usually, I’m running out of ideas. (Laughter) And so I’m reaching into
something that: well, it worked before, and... (Laughter) I did a film
called Cookie’s Fortune, right after this [Kansas City]. (Applause) No, no, I did another film before that, Gingerbread Man. But [in] Cookie’s Fortune,
I had a scene with Lyle Lovett and Liv Tyler and Chris O’Donnell in a
certain location. And we shot that scene. Then there was another scene
with them, the same people. And we went out to the same location to set
it up. And I was shooting that scene, and I said, “I’ve already shot
this scene.” And I realized that I had staged it and was doing it in
exactly the same way I had done the scene before. And I thought, Well,
I’m doomed. (Laughter) That’s it. And it’s evident. And I’m a little—I
have a feeling I was—that many brain cells are dying while I sit here.
And many of them went… They go away. Believe me. (Laughs)
AUDIENCE MEMBER: What do you give the actors, actually, to begin with?
SCHWARTZ: Do you believe in a lot of rehearsal time? Or do you believe in being more spontaneous?
ALTMAN: No, no, no, no, I don’t use—I’m too impatient for that. I
don’t know. I don’t know. We talked about what kind of picture we want
to make, what we’re looking for. And I’m mainly trying to kick them to
tell me. I’m trying to get them to tell me what they’re going to
deliver. Because they’re the ones that are doing it, you know.
SCHWARTZ: (Repeats audience question) Yes, about your interest in directing opera; what it’s like…
ALTMAN: Well. I really don’t even know how it started, but the dean
of music at the University of Michigan called me, woke me up, and said,
would I be interested in directing an opera, The Rake’s Progress? And I said... And I was familiar with The Rake’s Progress.
And I said, “Well, I don’t do that.” I mean, “No, that’s a mistake. I
don’t—I wouldn’t know how to do that. I’ve got a tin ear, and music is
something I can just enjoy, I can’t contribute to.” And he said, “Thank
you, blah-blah-blah,” and I hung up. And I turned over to go back to
sleep, and I got (clicks tongue). I said, “Well, if I could put eighty
people on a stage, and all these things...” And I called him back, and
I said, “I can do that, if I can have eighty people on the stage all
the time. If we can do...” He said, “Well, let’s do it.”
AUDIENCE MEMBER: How do you feel about other filmmakers referencing or paying homage to your work?
ALTMAN: Well, that’s the nicest thing in the world, you know. It’s
like going to a dance—you’ve got this neat dress that you’re wearing,
and you see four other people wearing the same dress. (Laughter) It
pisses you off in one way. But in the other way, you’re kind of
flattered. (Laughter)
SCHWARTZ: Just following on this question about other directors
copying you or paying homage to you, I think one thing that you were
doing very early on was this idea of multiple storylines, moving around
freely. And that happens a lot now. Film is getting more and more
nonlinear. But you were doing that, really, first.
ALTMAN: Well, yeah, I was. I mean, I did that—I did. And I think
the reason I did that is because if what I’m doing gets sort of boring,
I can always cut away to those two guys and then come back. It can help
you in truncating the process. It’s kind of chicken. It covers my back.
SCHWARTZ: How did you make the breakthrough to full feature films?
ALTMAN: The first film I made, I was in Kansas City doing
industrial films, and there was a guy there who was—his father owned a
chain of theaters, movie theaters. And he was kind of a bon vivant
character. And he said, “Let’s make a film.” And I said, “Okay.” And I
wrote this film, The Delinquents, in a weekend, and cast it,
and we started shooting it. We made it for $65,000. And it was really
terrible. But Hitchcock saw it, for some—one of those weird things, and
asked to meet with me. And I met with him, and he was doing his
half-hour series, and they were just starting an hour series, called Suspicion,
I think it was called. They were shooting it in New York. And he said,
“We have never—we don’t go out and shoot on locations. We build sets.”
He says, “And I need somebody that knows how to do that.” So he
actually hired me—although I wouldn’t take the job, but I did the job,
but I wouldn’t allow [myself] to be—I wouldn’t take the money for it,
because I didn’t want to be categorized as a production manager. But I
set up a film in New York, one of those Suspicions. And a Scottish
director named Robert... Blah-blah-blah… (Laughter) MacBlah-blah
(Laughter) did this film. And I came in. And then for doing that for
Hitchcock, they then gave me the [Alfred] Hitchcock Presents, which was
the first kind of professional thing I did. And I did one of those, and
then I did—and they gave me another one. I did another one, with Joseph
Cotten. And they worked out pretty good. Then they gave me another
script, and I was becoming the fair-haired boy there. And there was a
woman that really ran that whole television thing for him, named Joan
Harrison. And Miss Harrison gave me this script, and I read it, and I
said, “Well, Joan, you don’t want to do this. I can’t do this.” (I
should’ve done anything!) I said, “I can’t do this. This is not a good
script. It’s not going to work. The stories are ma-ma-ma.” And I just
turned it down. And she said, “Oh, all right.” Well, I found out later
that it was her script. (Laughter) So that was the end of my Hitchcock
days. But because of the Hitchcock mystique and name and all that, and
I had done two of those, I then got a job doing Whirlybirds, which was
a helicopter and two fools running around and... I did a hundred of
those; I just did...
(Answers audience question) I am a big fan of that, of [Ingmar]
Bergman. I am a big fan of Bergman’s. One of my favorite films is Persona. And also, David Lean. I am very impressed with Brief Encounter.
And then Federico Fellini and those... And I started really paying more
attention to those than I did the... I took a lot. I get a lot of
credit. People say, “Oh, you started all—you do all that overlapping
dialogue. You started that.” I say, “I didn’t start that. Howard Hawks
started that.” And I used to just love his pictures. Not for the
content or anything else, but just for the fact that they went so fast.
I stole that.
SCHWARTZ: (Repeats audience question) Okay, would you say you have a bleak or dark...?
ALTMAN: Well, you have to tell me that; I can’t. (Laughter) I don’t
think—I think there’re two sides to every coin. And I think there is a
dark side. The Prairie Home Companion, which we’re just
starting to release now... And everybody—the critics, everybody who’s
seen it likes it a lot. We’re getting really, really good responses to
it. They say, “Oh, this is terrific!” And we’ve had very, very few
negative things. But nothing came out and said, “Oh, this is the
greatest thing since…hash.” (Laughter) The critics, they’re saying,
“Oh, we love this, we love this.” I didn’t, myself, think the picture
had any particular thrust—or some words like that—except I thought Lily
was very good, and my God, Meryl and, you know. And they’ve all been
positive stuff. But there’s been a little caveat, because they don’t
really know... I think that the seriousness that one finds in Brokeback Mountain
or films… doesn’t seem to exist here, because it seems too easy, too
facile. And they don’t quite know how to praise it. But they don’t
un-praise it. So I’m kind of anxious to see what happens when this gets
out here this summer.
SCHWARTZ: I think you like to mix things up. I think M*A*S*H was a war film, came out during Vietnam, but it’s a comedy. This movie, Kansas City, that we just saw, has melodrama and music. So I think a lot of times, they’re hard to pigeonhole.
ALTMAN: Well, and they should be. But they’re kind of funny about what they say about... And yet, when you really look at the Prairie Home Companion, it is all about death. Everybody dies. Or is... (Laughter) And everybody’s... But they sing. (Laughter) And they’re happy.
SCHWARTZ: But to say that people die is sort of telling it like it is. It doesn’t mean you have a bleak...
ALTMAN: I know, but nobody noticed it, is what I’m saying. It
didn’t... (Laughter) These people said, “Well, there’s a very dark
place in there, when this guy’s...” L.Q. Jones dies. And ultimately,
all of them do.
SCHWARTZ: But still come see the movie, please. (Laughter)
ALTMAN: Well, actors are—why I say they lie: they have to protect
themselves so much, because they go in and no matter if they come in
for one day and do one job, they have no control over that film. If
they’re Meryl Streep, they have no control over that film, other than
just an economic control, really. And so they’re really at the mercy of
me, and the editing, and... I suppose I should—when I first finished M*A*S*H,
Dick Zanuck—Darryl Zanuck—came back with a couple of French cuties from
the Riviera, where he was kind of spending out his days. And he came
back, and they looked at my film. They had two other war [movies] going
on. They had Tora! Tora! Tora! and Patton, which were big films, and then they had this M*A*S*H.
And the studio people saw it and they said, “All the operating scenes
have to go. We’re not going to have any of that stuff in it. And this
film is—get it shorter. It’s going right to the drive-ins.” And it was
doomed. It was finished. And these two girls that Zanuck had with him
just loved the picture. And they said, “Oh, you don’t want to change
anything in that,” and blah-blah-blah. And then we went to San
Francisco and had a sneak preview up there, when Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid
was playing, in a big house, three thousand people. And they just went
nuts over that movie. And [Richard] Zanuck, the younger, happened to be
there because there was a Stanford football game. So he went up to see
the game, and he wrote the plane off for going to the preview.
(Laughter) (And it’s because I said something like that that I didn’t
work for Fox again for—until he was gone.) But...
Oh…actors. When I say lying, I’m... They will tend to—they’ll
protect themselves. They’ll say, “Oh, yeah, that’s a good idea.” And
they’ll try anything. They’ve got a really tough spot out there,
because they don’t have any control, really, over their work when it’s
finished. And if they do have enough power to have—if they’re Tom
Cruise people, they do have enough power that they can control what it
is, and so they make what it is, and it’s all shit. (Laughter,
applause) So I feel I have to stay away from those very powerful
actors, because they’re not going to want to do [it]. They got too many
people whispering in their ears.
SCHWARTZ: We have a show, Jazz ’34, coming up, so just as a last question, if you could just tell us a bit about that project.
ALTMAN: Oh, boy. (Laughter) Well, all the music that was in Kansas City, we shot all of those songs and things full-blast. And Jazz ’34 is simply a musical about the music. It’s just all the music, you know.
SCHWARTZ: Well, thank you. I’m sorry we’re going to have to stop, but we will see you again on June 8 with A Prairie Home Companion. (Applause) Thank you.
ALTMAN: Thank you. |