Nous sommes tous des voleurs

A gentle, slow, and moving study of some none-too-bright bank robbers in the 1930s. Keith Carradine and Shelly Duvall are terrific, and their scenes together are alive and wonderful. Some of the surrounding acting and story lines are good, but not nearly as strong as the film's center. Beautiful production design, and a feeling, as with 'McCabe and Mrs. Miller', of both tremendous reality, of 'being there', while still somehow feeling Brechtian and ironic at the same time. There are moments where the radio music in the background -- used in place of score - is a bit on the nose, and a few moments feel forced or slow. But this is a unique, odd and special movie, examining thieves in the depression without any hint of glamorization on one hand, or forced empathy on the other, while still breaking our hearts.

This film may have been a box office disappointment when it was first released, but that's no reason why it should be so completely forgotten today.

"Thieves Like Us" was Altman's second major period piece (after "McCabe and Mrs. Miller"), and he gets the details just right. From the cars to the clothing to the ubiquitous Coca-Cola bottles, everything adds to the feeling that these events could have taken place. It, of course, also helps that he has actors who look like they fit the time period. Keith Carradine, Shelley Duvall, John Schuck and Bert Remsen were born to play these roles, and they get able support from Tom Skerritt and Louise Fletcher.

Instead of a typical soundtrack, Altman uses vintage radio programs to underscore the action (crime dramas during robberies, "Romeo and Juliet" during a love scene). It's a brilliant gamble that pays off and takes the film to a whole new level.

In short, this is one of Altman's most fully realized films. For it to remain unseen is a crime.

This is one of Altman's very best pictures. As another comment puts it: it looks like he took his cast and crew back in time to the 30's and shot on location. The script adaptation is first rate and things keep moving forward even when we're sitting around just observing. The thing that makes this such a great Altman pic is the growth and unfolding of the characters over the course of the movie. There isn't a plot, but there is a story, and that will prove to be a crucial distinction, separating Altman from everyone and good Altman (this) from bad, aimless Altman (H.E.A.L.T.H.). The performances are excellent. Carradine, John Schuck and Bert Remsen make the absolute most out of opportunities they've never really been given again, Remsen is an old pro and Schuck really is unforgettable. Louise Fletcher makes an impression a year before her Oscar for "Cukoo's Nest" and an eternity of typecasting. Shelley Duvall tells a rambling, loosely-if-at-all connected story with the best of them. She always sounds like she's trying to spit out her lines as quickly as she can before she forgets them. Carradine falls prey to this during some of his scenes, particularly opposite her, but his composed silence makes him an ideal protagonist, someone whose almost visible thoughts define him even more than his actions. It's just that Duvall is the same almost all the time, and while that works for some actors it doesn't work so well when they do a movie in present day then 1930's right next to one another and do everything the same. Also, there seems to be something in her contract requiring shots of her screaming her blamed head off in every movie she's in.

It is impossible not to see how this film is influenced by "Bonnie and Clyde." If it weren't so darn good everyone's subject lines would read "Bonnie and Clyde knock-off." It is set in the same time period, and the artwork on the box recalls the earlier movie. What distinguishes it is the bond between the three escapees, and the box should really show the three of them, the title isn't "A Thief Like Me." I can't vouch for mirrors and reflections necessarily meaning that the film is about self-perception and etcetera, because often with Altman he just felt like shooting it that way. But go ahead if you want to, I'm sure the film is strong enough to support any such conjectures.

Coke. I've never seen so much of one product in a movie, even when Louise Fletcher comes out of her house she has coke in a glass, the prison in Mississippi is sponsored by Coke.

I've left out the best part of the movie so far. Altman runs radio programs over some scenes, like bank robberies, and behind other scenes, humorously commenting on the action. I wish he would have stuck with it during the last half hour a bit more, but it's a brilliant device.

It's 1936. Bowie (Keith Carradine) and Chicamaw (John Schuck) escape from prison and join up with T-Dub (Bert Remsen). They hide out in a rural community. Bowie is taken with Keechie (Shelley Duvall). They stay with Mattie (Louise Fletcher) and her family.

This is a crime gang movie done in the Robert Altman way. The story is pretty standard for a criminal gang on the run. The action is sometimes off screen or at least de-stylized. The focus is more with the in-between time and their naturalistic conversations.

Back to the 30's, folks. I was there, I know. It wasn't that you saw Coke everywhere, it was the only soft drink you saw. There were no machines with a choice. There was a big red Coke cooler sitting at the service station, another outside the grocery. Some of them were serviced by the local ice company, that is; no motor, just ice. A lot of times they had a padlock on them, in other places you just lifted the lid, helped yourself and left your nickel. Later they graduated to some with slots where you could put your nickel. No point in showing people in this movie drinking anything else, except maybe iced tea. No one else had the coolers, and so all you saw was Coke. Add to that the amount of fountain coke we drank. And it took Robert Altman to make us all think about it.