It's probably good to establish first what a great year for movies 1975 was. Some of the other Best Picture nominees at that year's Academy Awards were Jaws, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, Dog Day Afternoon, and Barry Lyndon. The only one on that list that I haven't seen and therefore can't say I love unquestionably is Barry Lyndon but c'mon it's Kubrick. The other four alone comprise a flawless list of greatness. But the only one I saw in the theater was Jaws. My parents were never really in to Academy Award movies unless a popcorn flick got lucky and made the cut (which Jaws did obviously) so the others would be discovered by me on my own at various times in my life. My Dad did like Cuckoo's Nest but we saw it much later on HBO (in those years movies didn't get to cable quite as fast as today). It took me quite some time to see Nashville. Probably not until I was in my 30's. But it was kind of the perfect time because I was, for the first time in my life, getting politically active but also feeling nostalgic for the era of my youth. Nashville sat right in that sweet spot before the Bicentennial, but it's also probably important to note that it didn't make very much money in theaters. Modest success would probably be an overreach if we only took money into account. The Academy certainly gave it more cache, but it was definitely more of an indie movie (though that term as a cultural force was still decades away).Critics and cool people saw it, but the general public kind of ignored it. Certainly my parents never watched it. And if they did I can only imagine what their comments would be. Boring. Talky. "Is this one of those movies where the people just stand around and talk?" Why yes. Yes it is. As such, many people remain complacent to this film. Especially if they hate country music. And I can understand that viewpoint. Before writing this post, I tried to imagine if the movie featured rap music instead of country music and although I'm almost positive if it was made today it would be a blockbuster, I'm also pretty positive that I wouldn't want to see it. So a love or appreciation for country music surely helps.
One of the other extremely cool things Altman added to the movie were the actors themselves, and their music. Altman wanted authenticity, whether it came off as amateurish or corn-pone or whatever, it had to be real. He reasoned that much of the music coming out of the city at the time was a mix of both greatness and cheese, and he was therefore okay if the actors, most of whom were not professional songwriters, wrote their own material and at times fell on their face a bit. The character of Haven Hamilton (Henry Gibson) is a great example of this. Played as an amalgamation of several famous country and western stars in a Nudie suit and hairpiece, Haven's songs are at times pretty silly. Keep-a-Goin with it's fishing metaphor and down home phrasing comes to mind, as does the preening of his anthem for America, 200 Years. And yet, it's absolutely believable that Don Gibson or Roy Acuff would have released a song like Keep-a-Goin, irony free, in 1975 and have it be a humongous hit. Altman lucked out with Keith Carradine who wrote the centerpiece of the movie, I'm Easy, and ended up having it be nominated for Best Song at the Academy Awards that year. But he struck literal gold with Ronnee Blakely. She had already released an album of folk and country songs, and her mix of heartfelt lyrics and pathos makes Barbara Jean shine and therefore makes it all the more painful when she takes a bullet in the end. Sadly, Blakely never again reached the heights of this movie. In fact, the only other major role I know her from is as Nancy's mother in the original A Nightmare on Elm Street and that makes me sad. Barbara Jean is a performance for the ages. Altman also ensured that the best studio musicians in Nashville were used to perform the music in the movie and on the soundtrack, and that helps immensely in giving the music the feel and atmosphere that it requires. At the time the movie was filming, the country and western establishment was supportive, but soon word got out that Altman wasn't exactly showing them in a flattering light and actually might be aiming for satire, and they turned on him. Big time. But more on that later.
The movie opens with some political huckstering as a van equipped with a megaphone begins driving around the city for the entirety of the movie, blaring the campaign messages of Hal Philip Walker in his own droll, heavily Southern accented voice. Altman wisely had a real campaign manager devise both the speeches and the vans, giving them carte blanche as far as to how they would interact with the cast. If they were filming in a certain location, Walker's van and campagin volunteers would show up and begin causing havoc. It works beautifully. It's important to note, also, that although Hal Philip Walker says some great and relatable things throughout the movie, we never really get a handle on exactly what he stands for. Then we get an extended prologue where we see some of our characters in the recording studio. One of the great in-jokes occurs in the scene where Haven is recording 200 Years and becomes annoyed by the long-haired hippie looking piano player and tells his producer that he asked for Pig, and when he asks for Pig, he expects to get it. Anyone who knows classic country music at all knows that Hargus "Pig" Robbins was THE piano player to get in Nashville and if you wanted your song to be a hit, you got Pig. Haven storms out, but not before one last cutting remark to the hippie pianist: "You get your hair cut. This is Nashville." Immediately we have character definition for Haven. He's vain and peacocky and definitely old school and Conservative. I so want to laugh at him in the movie, and yet as we'll see later, there's also a lot more to him. The plot, such as it is, kicks off when renowned country singer Barbara Jean returns to Nashville from an undisclosed location where she's been recuperating from a mysterious illness. Haven adores her, and will defer to her on everything. So he dutifully turns up at the airport along with most of the other 24 major characters to welcome her back, along with his son, Bud (Dave Peel), a frustrated songwriter who puts his own wants and needs aside to run his father's business, and his mistress, a traditional outspoken Southern woman named Lady Pearl played by Barbara Baxley. Curiously, we never get to see Haven's wife. We also meet Bill and Mary and Tom (Allan Nicholls, Christina Raines, and Keith Carradine, respectively), a married couple and their third in a singing trio coming to town to record an album. They're loosely based on Bill and Taffy Danoff and John Denver, and like the real musician he's based on, Tom wants to go solo and record his own music, unfortunately unbeknownst to Bill and Mary. Delbert Reese (Ned Beatty) is a local lawyer who gets to schmooze outsiders as he represents some of the biggest stars in town and he's meeting Hal Philip Walker's campaign manager John Triplette (Michael Murphy) to begin showing him around the city for the weekend. We also get to see Sueleen Gay (Gwen Welles), an aspriing singer who works as a waitress at the airport luncheonette and her frustrated co-worker Wade Cooley (Robert Doqui), a black cook who's frustrated with her but looks out for her nonetheless. Then there's Martha (Shelley Duvall), a flighty, free-spirited girl just arriving in town to visit with her ailing Aunt. Her Uncle, Mr. Green (Keenan Wynn), is there to pick her up, but she ditches him by changing her clothes and her hair and leaving with someone else. Not to mention Pfc. Kelly (Scott Glenn), who seems to be overly interested in Barbara Jean and begins following her around, a good old boy named Star (Bert Remsen) whose wife Albequerque (Barbara Harris) is also an aspiring singer though Star won't tolerate it, a mysterious but friendly loner carrying a fiddle case named Kenny (Hayward), Opal (Geraldine Chaplin), a deluded "journalist" supposedly working on a project for the BBC who won't rest until she's interviewed every star in the city, Norman (David Arkin) the limo driver tasked with ferrying Bill and Mary and Tom around for the time being, and a nameless magic performing, tricycle riding stranger played by Jeff Goldblum who has no lines in the movie but will turn up at every major location throughout the film. So, you know, just a few characters to follow. Honestly, most of these people will be given tertiary status but they add so much to the tapestry of the film with what little time they're given. When Barbara Jean arrives with her husband, angry but dutiful wrangler Barnett (Allen Garfield), she begins to make a speech to the gathered crowd, but before she can finish, she collapses and has to be taken to the hospital. Everybody begins to leave the airport, but not before we get another of the great moments in the film as Tom walks up to Kelly, in full military uniform, and asks him sarcastically if he's killed anybody today. I'm guessing this was adlibbed by Carradine, but either way the comment, and Glenn's shocked reaction to it, makes for a telling moment about how some of America was treating it's returning Vietnam veterans.
As our cast is driving from the airport, a couch falls from a vehicle and causes a massive pileup. This was lifted directly from life, as Joan Tewkesbury got caught in a similar accident based traffic jam right after she landed in Nashville. Our characters are forced to stop on the highway and converse while they wait for the accident to clear. Opal is interviewing Linnea, Delbert's gospel singing wife, but becomes upset after hearing that she has two deaf children. Seeing the tour bus of black country singer Tommy Brown (Timothy Brown) nearby, she talks her way into it only to not realize that she's speaking with Tommy Brown himself, thereby presumably missing out on her interview with him. The character of Tommy Brown is no doubt based on Charley Pride, one of the few black country singers to ever make the charts. As I sit struggling to think of another example of a black country singer from life I become amazed that I can only think of 2 more, Darius Rucker and Kane Brown (who's multiracial actually), in the 45 years since Nashville first came out. Albequerque uses the distraction to run away from her husband and begin her dream of being a singing star. Delbert and Linnea have Triplette over for dinner that night, where we observe that Linnea spends a lot of her time doing sign language with the children, while Delbert hasn't even bothered to learn any. She also takes a call from Tom who cavalierly asks her to meet him for sex, She demurs for now. All of our already established stars head to a performance at the Grand Ole Opry. Part of the thrill of this movie is seeing all of the old studio and touring musicians in the actual settings, and the Opry is no exception. After filming, it moved from the Ryman Auditorium to it's new location. Haven and Tommy perform separately, and then our last major character who we've yet to meet takes the stage, Connie White (Karen Black), stepping in for Barbara Jean. I believe Black was a last minute addition which is why it takes quite a while to meet her in the film, but she proves herself admirably looking glamorous (channeling an amalgamation of singers with Lynn Anderson probably being front and center) and singing 2 self-penned songs. We learn that there's a rivalry between Connie and Barbara Jean, and neither will play a bill where the other is already booked, so listening to a broadcast of the show from her hospital bed, Barbara Jean takes Connie's performance not as a favor but a spite. She proceeds to have a breakdown, ending up in tears while Barnett alternately yells at and coddles her. When he proceeds to leave so he can go thank Connie in person, Barbara Jean is left alone and despondent and we get the impression that this is probably how she spends a lot of her time. Another great moment in the film comes when Barnett arrives with flowers to thank Connie for stepping in to perform, and she absently takes them from him and while he's still talking walks away. Even with very little dialogue we see what kind of character Connie is. Mary skips out on the Opry with Bill to have sex with Tom and we learn that she loves him. But Tom has many conquests (throughout the weekend he'll sleep with Martha and Opal and Mary) and his eye is squarely fixed on Linnea. We never find out how he initially met her, but he calls her again the next morning while Delbert boils an egg and Linnea eats breakfast with the children, and we can gather that she represents sort of an unattainable desire as she brushes him off as a prank phone call. Norman, meanwhile, pesters all three of his charges about his songwriting. Haven hosts a large barbecue at his home which several of the characters attend. Martha continues to avoid her Aunt and Uncle and attach herself to any good looking guy she can find, much to Mr. Green's dismay. In another standout moment, Opal (who's snuck in to the barbecue either on Bud's arm or the arm of someone else) sits with Bud and interviews him and discovers that he's a songwriter himself. But when she asks him to sing one of his songs and he obliges, pouring out his heart, right in the middle of his performance Opal spots Elliot Gould and Julie Christie (playing themselves) at the party and rushes to try and interview them, leaving Bud crestfallen. That night we get another great beat from Connie White. When Gould and Christie pass through Lady Pearl's club and Haven introduces them, Connie promptly ignores them. When Haven questions her actions ("She's a big star!"), she replies "She can't even comb her hair." We see that Haven takes it upon himself to be an ambassador of sorts to the city just from the way he chitchats with the visiting celebrities. During a performance by Tommy Brown in the club that night, a drunken Wade stands up and begins berating the singer as an Uncle Tom. He's removed from the club but not before Haven apologizes to all present with "That's not Nashville."
Sunday brings Church services for most of the characters and we interestingly get to see 3 different churches and how differently each celebrates their faith. Barbara Jean sings wheelchair bound in the hospital chapel, a small group of people watching, including Pfc. Kelly and Mr. Green, whose wife dies shortly afterward. Angrily, he begins looking for Martha who never did come to visit her Aunt before she died. Triplette throughout his visit has been attempting to book Haven and Barbara Jean for the huge Hal Philip Walker rally that will finish out the long weekend. Both Haven and Barnett have demurred, not wanting to take sides politically. Barbara Jean performs a "comeback" show at Opryland and starts out doing very well, but several songs in she begins to ramble and loses track of her songs despite attempts by the band to steer her back on course. Barnett eventually has to come out and walk her off stage. When the crowd begins booing and shouting angrily, he assures them that if they come to the Walker rally they will get to see her perform. With Barbara Jean booked, now Haven agrees to perform at the rally as well. Haven and his family go to the stock car races along with Tommy Brown and his family, where Albequerque performs in the center of the track, totally unheard as cars go screaming past. A hilarious moment occurs when Haven offers Tommy some watermelon and Lady Pearl admonishes him for obvious reasons. Triplette, meanwhile, organizes a smoker with Del's help, and hires Sueleen as the entertainment. She doesn't realize that it's not her voice they've hired her for as we learned right in the airport diner that she can't really sing. Once she does realize it she refuses to go on, and we see a dark side of Triplette as he strongarms her into the strip tease, not wanting his Hal Philip Walker campaign donors to go without their T & A. She does eventually perform, robotically and almost crying, and does get completely naked, but she's devastated by the end. To make matters worse, Delbert takes her home and though he does seem concerned for her well being, promptly tries to accost her. A passing Wade rescues her and Delbert leaves. Linnea, meanwhile, goes to a club where Tom is performing a solo set. She sits way in the back, not wanting to be noticed, but he does notice her. In the centerpiece of the film, he performs I'm Easy, pouring his heart out, and all of the women he's already slept with in the movie watch rapt in the audience believing he is singing to them. But as the camera pans back slowly to Linnea who starts out curious but by the end is totally won over, we see that he is indeed singing it directly to her. Tomlin is brilliant in this moment. We again see Tomlin's brilliance after she and Tom have made love. Amazingly, he does ask her to spend more time with him. And we almost expect her, blinded by his adoration, to go along. But she's got a husband and two kids and she hasn't been fooling herself about this encounter at all. She starts to get dressed only to have Tom call another girl before she's even left, attempting to find some company for the night. Quietly she finds all of her dashed off articles of clothing and dresses, afterward kissing a still engaged on the phone Tom and leaving.
The next morning, as the Walker campaign readies the rally in front of the Parthenon, Mr. Green becomes enraged and asks Kenny, who's been staying in his rented room, to help him find Martha. They believe she will be at the rally, so off they head. At the rally, a large crowd gathers to watch the stars perform. Haven and Barbara Jean sing a duet, and then Barbara Jean begins her set as most of the main cast watches from the wings or the audience. She seems revitalized, and as she begins a lovely song about her parents called My Idaho Home, Mr. Green and Kenny arrive. While Mr. Green begins scouring the crowd for Martha, Kenny positions himself directly in front of the stage next to Pfc. Kelly. As the performance goes on, Kenny becomes visibly angry, eventually unlocking the fiddle case he's been carrying with him the entire movie and removing something from inside of it. Barbara Jean finishes to thunderous applause, and Haven brings a boquet of flowers on stage for her. As she takes the flowers, shots ring out, and we see that Kenny had been hiding a gun in his case all along. He shoots Haven in the arm, but Barbara Jean is mortally wounded. Pfc. Kelly disarms Kenny and he is taken away. As people rush to help Haven and Barbara Jean, even though he is wounded and bleeding, Haven assures them he is ok and then begins speaking to the crowd over the microphone, imploring them to calm down and keep celebrating because "This isn't Dallas. This is Nashville." It's at this point that I actually have the most sympathy for Haven. He may be a vain asshole at times, but he really does care for Barbara Jean and his city both. As they're whisked offstage to get medical help, for a brief time nobody onstage seems to know what to do. In walks Albequerque, who'd been watching from the sidelines up until now. She begins to sing Tom's song "It Don't Worry Me" hesitantly, but once the band and singers and audience chime in behind her, it seems a new star has been born in Nashville, and our camera pans out slowly.
Altman's film is always listed as satire and though that's probably fair, I prefer not to think of it as satire because satire almost implies that he doesn't care about any of these people and that couldn't be further from the truth. I don't think Altman hates country music either, though the real establishment in Nashville certainly believed he did at the time. Webb Pierce famously predicted Altman would never return to Nashville and that, if he did, he would be hanged. Producer Billy Sherill quipped "I'll tell you what I liked best about the film. When they shot that miserable excuse for a country music singer." And Ronnie Milsap, in a feigned show of turning the other cheek, said "I've seen a lot of movies in my day. And this is one of them." They were angry, and didn't want this talky travelogue with a secret bit of arsenic in it to represent their city. And yet, although the movie is set there, it ended up representing a whole lot more than Music City. It's America through and through. The shifty political bottom feeders, the people hopelessly pursuing fame through their art, and an indifferent city that ends up spitting most of them back out. Not to mention crazed people shooting celebrities at random. That's one of the things that rings most true to me in the movie. When Haven tells the crowd "This isn't Dallas." I get chills. Because every city has become Dallas now. Mass shootings are a daily event, and we're certainly not shocked by them anymore like movie audiences were at the time. Between a presidential hopeful who promises change and a broken star who can't feel whole unless she's being a star even though it's slowly killing her, this movie represents us in every frame. And though some of the Vietnam sentiments and the music are a time capsule, what's most startling about the movie to me is not how it seemed to stand for America in 1975, but how it still stands for us today. And probably always will. If anything, it gets more prescient with every passing day sadly.
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