The Great Movies III

obert Altman's The Long Goodbye (1973) attacks film noir with three of his most cherished tools: whimsy, spontaneity, and narrative perversity. He is always the most youthful of directors, and here he gives us the youngest of Philip Marlowes, the private eye as a Hardy boy. Marlowe hides in the bushes, pokes his nose up against a window, complains like a spoiled child, and runs after a car driven by the sexy heroine, crying out "Mrs. Wade! Mrs. Wade!" As a counterweight, the movie contains two startling acts of violence; both blindside us, and neither is in the original Raymond Chandler novel.

Altman began with a screenplay by Leigh Brackett, the legendary writer of The Big Sleep (1946), the greatest of the many films inspired by Marlowe. On that one her cowriter was William Faulkner. There is a famous story that they asked Chandler who killed one of the characters (or was it suicide?). Chandler's reply: "I don't know." There is a nod to that in The Long Goodbye when a character who was murdered in the book commits suicide in the movie.

Certainly the plot of The Long Goodbye is a labyrinth not easily negotiated. Chandler's 1953 novel leads Marlowe into a web of deception so complex you could call it arbitrary. The book is not about a story but about the code of a private eye in a corrupt world. It is all about mood, personal style, and language. In her adaptation, Brackett dumps sequences from Chandler, adds some of her own (she sends Marlowe to Mexico twice), reassigns killings, and makes it almost impossible to track a suitcase filled with a mobster's money.

I went through the film a shot at time at the Conference on World Affairs at the University of Colorado, sitting in the dark with several hundred others as we asked ourselves, What do we know, how do we know it, and is it true? Many of our questions center on the rich, sex-drenched Eileen (Nina Van Pallandt). Does she desire the death of her husband, Roger Wade, an alcoholic writer played by the gruff old bear Sterling Hayden? Or does she only want free of him? What about that seductive dinner she serves Marlowe (Elliott Gould) on the night Wade walks into the ocean? Does she intend to sleep with Marlowe? She does in the novel, and he is later part of her alibi when she kills Wade and makes it look like suicide. But here she doesn't kill Wade. What is the link connecting Terry Lennox (the baseball star Jim Bouton), Eileen, and the gangster Marty Augustine (Mark Rydell)? Does Augustine owe Wade money, as he claims to Marlowe, or does Wade owe Augustine money, as Wade implies in a Freudian slip? What is the exact connection between any money owed to anyone and the money in the suitcase? Only a final, blunt speech by Lennox, Marlowe's unworthy friend, answers some of our questions.

Elliott Gould says on the DVD that Altman made many changes to Brackett's screenplay, but that when she saw the movie not long before she died, she said she was "more than satisfied." One change is to make Philip Marlowe, that laconic loner with a code of honor, into what Altman and Gould privately called "Rip Van Marlowe."When he awakens at the beginning of the movie, he's a 1953 character in a 1973 world. He wears a dark suit, white shirt, and narrow tie in a world of flower power and nude yoga. He chain smokes; no one else smokes. He is loyal to Terry Lennox and considers him his friend, but the movie establishes their friendship only by showing them playing liar's poker, and Lennox is no friend. Marlowe carries a s5,ooo bill for most of the movie, but never charges for any of his services. He is a knight errant, and like Don Quixote imperfectly understands the world he inhabits.

The earlier movie Marlowes (Humphrey Bogart, James Caan, James Garner, Robert Mitchum, Robert Montgomery, Dick Powell) are terse and guarded. They talk, as Chandler wrote, "with rude wit, a lively sense of the grotesque, a disgust for sham, and a contempt for pettiness." And they talk a lot, because they narrate the novels. Gould's Marlowe has these qualities, but they emerge in meandering dialogue that plays as a bemused commentary to himself. In the novel, Marlowe has no pets, but here he has a cat, and in the famous pre-credit opening sequence he attempts to convince the cat he is supplying its favorite cat food, but the cat is not fooled. In a movie that throws large chunks of plot overboard, there is no reason for this sequence, except that it establishes Marlowe as a man who is more loyal to his cat than anyone is to him.