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Director:
Robert Altman
Starring: Glenn Close, Julianne Moore, Liv Tyler, Charles
S. Dutton
Running Time: 118 minutes
Original UK Release: August 1999
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Robert
Altman is no stranger to making ensemble movies that are in
no particular hurry to go anywhere (see Short Cuts). The renowned
director's genius lies in his ability to still make them compelling
viewing.
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So you gladly put up with the painfully slow opening
to Cookie's Fortune, a Southern Gothic comedy which
virtually stands still for its almost tortuous first
20 minutes, because you just know Altman's film is going
to come good.
Indeed, once the plot strands start to unravel, the
maverick director's droll comedy becomes eminently watchable,
an absorbing and at times quirky tale of small town
mischief and oddball characters which quietly nestles
into a captivating groove.
Rife with overlapping plots and simmering family secrets,
the story revolves around the apparent murder of an
eccentric matriarch called Cookie (Patricia Neal), who
actually shoots herself in her home town of Holly Springs,
Mississippi, to be with her beloved dead husband.
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When her
two estranged nieces (Glenn Close and Julianne Moore) pay
a visit to borrow a fruit bowl, they discover her body and,
not wanting to bring shame on the family, attempt to convince
the police that she was robbed and murdered (hoping to inherit
whatever they can into the bargain). So they stage the crime
scene accordingly.
Once the investigation gets underway, Cookie's loyal friend
and handyman Willis (Charles S. Dutton) is promptly arrested,
mainly because he's regarded as being the most likely suspect,
so enraging Cookie's favourite relative Emma (Liv Tyler),
Moore's rebel daughter who has just returned to town. In fact,
she's so incensed she even moves into his cell to keep him
company. Conveniently, it's such a laid-back town that the
cell door is kept open.
Life duly goes on as the police investigation continues. Inept
sheriff's deputy Chris O'Donnell enjoys fumbling moments of
intimacy with Tyler, Close puts the finishing touches to a
church production of Oscar Wilde's Salomé and catfish
supplier Lyle Lovett spends his days pining over Emma, who
works in his shop.
Altman maintains the easy pace throughout and eventually,
seemingly innocuous moments take on a new relevance as the
pieces slowly begin to fall into place. All is finally revealed
when the whimsical investigation being conducted by suave
city slicker investigator Courtney B. Vance (who quickly becomes
the object of at least two women's desires) draws to its rattling
conclusion.
Apparently, most of the actors fell over themselves to appear
in Altman's movie and his ensemble piece benefits from some
fine performances, particularly Moore as the put-upon, faithfully
obedient Cora, Dutton as the blatantly innocent Wild Turkey-swigging
suspect and (perhaps most notably) Close as the manipulative,
domineering, asset-grabbing Camille.
It's lazy, but it's a real grower, and the real twist is predictably,
and satisfyingly, left to the very end, when all the deep
dark secrets start tumbling out one by one. By this time,
not only has the game of Scrabble taken on a whole new meaning,
but Altman has proved that he is an undisputed master at drawing
exceptional performances from his cast. His flair for handling
serious issues with deft humour is also displayed in all its
impressive glory.
The whole film, which benefits hugely from David A. Stewart's
bluesy score, is neatly summed up by cop Ned Beatty, who gives
Willis a final reel foolproof character reference and admits
that his innocence was never really in doubt. How could he
be so sure? Because, as he so succinctly puts it: "I've
fished with him."
David
Lichtneker
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