Les flambeurs

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.

Of all Robert Altman's films, this one is the best, in my mind. Meaning it stood out the most for me and it still feels so fresh after all this time, like most of Altman's films anyway.

Even if you don't care for this director's films, watch it just for the marvelous chemistry between George Segal and Elliott Gould, two outstanding actors, and for those who want to see how real improvisation is done, watch closely how Elliott Gould does it in this movie, I guarantee you've never seen anything like it before or since. I was shaking my head in amazement at such talent, wow!

An enjoyable film, funny as hell, but pitiful, too.

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.

Bill Denny (Geore Segal) and Charly Waters (Elliot Gould) cross paths at a California poker parlor. Denny is a casual player, Waters a motormouth pro who loves to psyche opponents. When a player suspects the two are card sharks he exacts revenge in a parking lot, further bonding the pair. Denny is soon caught up in Waters world of the professional gambler, one that is far from his dull everyday existence to one filled with pressure, addiction but most importantly excitement.

Director Robert Altman does an excellent job of of establishing a chokingly oppressive mood and setting in this episodic gambling story that spends most of its time at a poker table or race track. It is a somewhat sordid and tawdry existence however that is soon working on fumes for a storyline, Altman's vaunted improvisational form, eventually hamstrung by the banality of the next bet.

Segal and Gould buddy up fairly well but soon grow obnoxious and annoying with their pursuit of big pay days and overlong song and dance duets. The climactic Reno scene pulsates with suspense resulting in a nice offbeat ending but like Bill at the end you might be asking yourself, is that all there is?