California Split

Now I really thinks that this is an amazing good movie. Amazing both for the story and for the actors: they produce a common effort in saying some real true things about gambling. Great directing, too, and great places to shoot the story (how clever to choose the depressing Reno instead of Las Vegas! Atlantic City would have been a good choice, too). Gambling is what people do when they have anything else left to do. Gambling is all about losing, feeling sad, and loneliness. And it's the same if you win or if you lose, no difference. Other films usually show winners, when they solves their common life problems through gambling, or losers, when they ruin their own common life trough gambling. What is shown by California Split is that, if you are a gambler, then there's no space for anything else, say life, love, or hope. And that's both for winners and for losers.

Altman at the absolute top of his form--which is to say among the freest, loosest and sensorily densest great movies ever made in America. Visually and sonically thick as a brick, it also represents some of the highest-flying improvisatory acting you've ever seen. Put the Godard of the early sixties in a polyester shirt, lay him down among the rummies and compulsive cases of the American gambling subculture, and fill him with equal parts beer and caffeine, and you have some idea of this thoroughly amazing, free-and-easy comedy, which has a scary undertow: the scene where George Segal tries to persuade co-addict Elliott Gould of the hollowness of the big win might be the most scarily desolate in any Altman picture.

I was fortunate enough to see California Split this past weekend on the big screen. The American Film Institute (AFI) Theater in the Kennedy Center is currently (February '02) having a retrospective of Altman's 70s films, and, while I had never heard of the film, I was mysteriously drawn to it. I'm glad I went. The chemistry between Gould and Segal is amazing. It's is if they've been friends their whole lives. They seemed very relaxed and care-free. The story is sad yet exciting, the dialog witty and almost innocent, and the direction is, of course, great. Plus, there is a brief scene with a very young Jeff Goldblum, who plays Segal's boss.

If you happen upon this film on TV one late night, or it's shown in a theater near you for some reason, please see it. It's a lost treasure.

Of their work together, the three films reach the tops of acting, directing and just overall fine filmwork of the latest golden age of American film - MASH, The Long Goodbye and this entirely out of print gem, California Split. I have long wanted to see California Split and my local video store just got in a nice new bootleg that looks good, though it's pan /scan. The opening titles shots (which are in widescreen) and show Gould softly babbling to himself and watching a gambling instructional video are incredible - and it would be amazing to see the whole movie in proper aspect ratio. The interplay between Gould and Segal is - I think - deeper and more compelling than the taken-for-granted war-forced friendship between Gould and Sutherland in MASH. Still, I think almost nothing is better than Gould just by himself, friendless, and constantly disappointed in humanity the way he is in The Long Goodbye. All three are fantastic, and they would make a fine widescreen DVD package, but as usual Altman's best work gets only a fraction of the credit it deserves.

Why California Split remains among the most obscure of Robert Altman's extraordinary 1970s oeuvre is a mystery. Its stars -- Elliot Gould and George Segal -- were at the top of their form, free and comfortable working in Altman's off-the-cuff, low-key style. Its supporting cast -- Ann Prentiss, Gwen Welles and especially Bert Remsen, as the cross-dressing old jane "Helen Brown," -- is memorable. And its full gallery of extras (many drawn from the therapeutic community Synanon) populate a surreal gambling netherworld in California and Nevada. Altman is working in highest gear with the layered, semi-improvised and alluringly murky style he pioneered. As in Altman's best work, the story just sort of happens, without much distinction between foreground and backdrop, principal characters and walk-ons. Lacking the rigid and didactic "dramaturgy" of its competitors, California Split endures as one of the most probing examinations of the soul and psyche of the abnormal gambler ever filmed.