If you walk away, I'll walk away
Published by Elle Aurens on October 19, 2006.
McCabe & Mrs. Miller (Altman, 1971) U.S.A.Sometimes, life hands you a wild card. A stranger comes into your life and slowly but surely makes his presence felt. You may not feel it at first, but slowly this presence occupies your very being. Before you know it, you are riding a one-way express way pass the point of no return. And just as slowly but surely, he leaves your sign post, never to return. You are but a station along the way, and the train continues its trek without you. You love this love forever, even if forever for you is never for him. McCabe & Mrs. Miller is the masterful filmic expression of this unfulfilled longing, a story of unexpected passion found a little too late. McCabe & Mrs. Miller began with McCabe riding his horse into a frontier town, to the music of Leonard Cohen's The Stranger Song.
you find he did not leave you very much
not even laughter
Like any dealer he was watching for the card
that is so high and wild
he'll never need to deal another
He was just some Joseph looking for a manger
The film played out much like the song. The desolate, foreboding atmosphere (beautifully photographed and directed by Altman and co.) served as the psychological background for the slow collision of two lonely individuals - McCabe and Mrs. Miller (poignant performances by both Beatty and Christie). In the harsh and unforgiving environment that was the American frontier, survival depended on one's ability to judge which devil to shake hands with while staying a few steps ahead of one's predicament. The settlers struggled with the conflicting impulses: to plant their roots and branch out, or to continue exploring opportunities unknown.
In this context, McCabe and Mrs. Miller came to each other out of necessity. At first, it was for a business venture: supplying whore and booze for the church going community. There were things to exploit, including each other. She got the smarts; he got the money. When they first met in the unfinished whorehouse, McCabe stood on one side of the room, facing Mrs. Miller with quizzing eyes; she had her back turned to him, looking out the window to the unruly life below her. Their relationship was established with this scene, though just who the 'dealer' referred to in the song became a question mark. In this moment, it seemed the 'dealer' was wearing a dress, scheming her next move. Yet, as the film went on, it became clear that both were carrying out the same tune, to devastating effect. The American frontier became - for them - the land of missed opportunities. As it turned out, it was not always easy staying ahead of the game, especially when feelings unexpectedly made a show. McCabe risked more than he should in order to prove to her his reputation was not for naught. She kept up her end of false pretenses, the calculating madam with little human warmth for anyone in particular. The realization that they did not have to keep up appeareances with each other came a little too late. They resigned to the life they felt they had to lead as their persona became them.
McCabe & Mrs. Miller was a lived-in film, within which characters moved about as though they had always been there. The camera was observing, but mostly invisible. On the commentary, Altman and co. mentioned that the cast was made up mostly of actors rather than extras, and that they chose their own costumes and stitched their own patches. Perhaps method acting helped the film achieve the realistic feel of the American frontier. The locale - early, un-occupied piece of Vancouver where the sun never seemed to truly shine - was itself a lived-in character. There was not a false note in the film, making the doomed romance all the more heartbreaking. Melancholy seeped through every frame, and finality seemed dreadfully inevitable. It was a Western without its cowboy heroes and their expensive hats. Instead, Altman offered us a found poem approximating the people whose life made early America what it was.
Labels: Older films
