McCabe and Mrs. Miller

The brilliance of a film like McCabe and Mrs. Miller is that it is indeed a revisionist Western, and yet it’s very undefined in terms of the point that the director Robert Altman is trying to put across to the audience. For a Western, the film is very artsy. It’s almost as if the director were saying, in a situation like the one in this film, where’s the beauty and mystery in the material? Altman infuses those qualities in not necessarily the plot (what plot?) but more in the details; in the way the actors convey their character traits through improvised dialogue and “gimmicks” like the way McCabe (Warren Beatty) mutters to himself in times of crisis. Those times of crisis are basically present throughout the whole duration of the movie, and yet there is such a calm tone present throughout; a tone of almost trippy elliptical confusion on both the characters and the audience’s part.
For a non-mainstream art film, McCabe and Mrs. Miller is about as unpretentious as a film can be. (It’s over before you know it.) Altman loves his characters that inhabit this town, and makes us the audience come to love them as well. I think this is because all the actors here are fully inhabiting shantytown characteristics. It’s great seeing Julie Christie gussied up a bit, because she becomes more ethereal in the process. (The same can be said for Warren Beatty-I think the beard helps bring out his eccentric side). I think Altman’s theory on beauty is that beauty is more defined when it is submerged and hidden. McCabe and Mrs. Miller is an art film with low-down humor. (The cinematography by Vilmos Zsigmond is so evocative, it’s almost as if Carvaggio shot the movie in the muck.)
McCabe and Mrs. Miller is highly ambiguous personal filmmaking. McCabe’s wanting to have complete control over the whorehouse is always being thwarted by business men who want to take over the property. They eventually threaten his life if he doesn’t give in. McCabe is not allowed to make he deal in the way that he deems fit, and before he knows it the ground crumbles from underneath him. (That man who is experiencing inner turmoil and muttering under his breath might as well be Robert Altman.) This is a metaphor for Robert Altman’s wanting complete artistic control over his films and being thwarted by the movie business executives financing his endeavors. The fact that this thesis is highly ambiguous is the way that it ought to be. The meanings are hidden and submerged in the work in order to not get in the way of the audience’s enjoyment of the film. Altman’s way of telling a story cinematically is analogous to how a beautiful tree is covered in rain. (One of the shots in the film.) Ironically today’s audience may be so unused to this apparent negligence that they may not respond to the film at all. I feel that this makes the work even more mysterious.
The way that the town is depicted, gives an audience member a wonderful sense of the geography of Presbyterian Church. An audience member is aware of the places that are safe and not safe to traverse in, like in any other town, only those emotions are made more drastically vivid. Every detail is wonderfully elaborated here. The whorehouse is so playful and fun that ultimately you the audience member want to take residence there. It’s a place to stay warm from the harsh cold elements outside (both literally and metaphorically.) Each character that enters Presbyterian makes the town more interesting, and one begins to know the town like the back of their hand. Every single inhabitant has their own wonderful quirkiness. Eventually, the audience feels that we are taking up residence in this town, and that’s because we can imagine what it would be like once we have left it. We can imagine what goes on away from our prying eyes. The audience get this sense because we merely overhear or see certain events and miss others. This creates expansiveness of imagination; creates curiosity and frustration and interest in this town, almost as if it were a real place. We want that to be preserved by McCabe; we are both worried for the town and also are worried for McCabe’s well being. There’s freedom in the filmmaking here, because it seems as if real humans take residence in Presbyterian. What can be suggested or merely guessed at is what makes an audience member watching these characters love them exponentially. That sense of discovery might as well have died with McCabe.
For a brief period of time, McCabe and Mrs. Miller are the movers and shakers of the town. The film’s tone is tenuous because of McCabe and Mrs. Miller’s grip that they have on Presbyterian, which is constantly dissipating. The couple’s doom is written in the wind, and the two of them want to try to forget this sad fact. All of these plangent qualities are felt in Leonard Cohen’s evocative music. The songs in this film both portend the future and make one enjoy the present.
I feel that McCabe and Mrs. Miller is one of the most romantic films ever made, and that’s because we don’t really see the intimacy between the two protagonists. Their love can only be left to our imaginations, and besides, unrequited love is the most romantic kind of love presented on the screen because it’s of a tragic nature. (All though I do think they sleep together.) The fact that we can imagine what their relationship was like is a blessing rather than a curse. The void in their relationship is the entire film; because of this McCabe and Mrs. Miller has a wonderful feeling and tone to it that can only be accurately described as Canadian provocative. In the end, the town turns their back on McCabe, and it’s great that this isn’t stated outright. In other words, it’s not made depressing in anyway, much like how the personal feeling in the work is not stated outright. Altman does not want his audience to despair, but rather to enjoy the surroundings of the film. It’s great that the audience has hope for McCabe by the end of the film, and hope in his relationship with Mrs. Miller. We do not want them to be forgotten or lost; and yet they are.