¿Quién mató a Cookie?

Robert Altman has an affinity for the South, and "Cookie's Fortune", reveals that it is gentle, pleasant and relaxed. Set in small town Mississippi there are none of the typical Hollywood stereotypes of flaming racial hatred, sexual oppression, and class bigotry. Well, not much at least. The characters in Holly Springs all know and like one another regardless of their race and social standing. Well acted by a great ensemble cast that portray an 'Altmanesque' kaleidoscope of small-town characters, most of whom are eccentrics. The plot revolves around the suicide of Cookie, a matriarch of one of the town's leading families. Since suicide is considered disgraceful, two of her nieces, upon discovering her body, cover it up to make it look like a murder. And then an innocent man becomes the prime suspect and...off we go. Ok, so it's not as 'deep' as many of Altman's films, nor as dark either. But that's not bad, and "Cookie's Fortune" is a very enjoyable movie. I recommend it highly for a Saturday night rental.

Throughout the long trajectory of his career, Robert Altman was known for interweaving multiple plots and characters within the context of a given theme. Think the brotherhood of the country music community in "Nashville" or the detachment of contemporary California life in "Short Cuts." But in 1999, Altman tried something a bit unique – he directed a motion picture with a plot. One plot. One story. A comparatively small cast of characters. It was called, "Cookie's Fortune," and it's this month's Buried Treasure.

With a clever screenplay by Anne Rapp, "Cookie's Fortune" tells the story of Willis (Charles S. Dutton), a handyman wrongly accused of murder in a small Mississippi town. His widowed employer (Patricia Neal) commits suicide at the outset, and her daughters decide to disguise the shooting as a murder in a vain attempt to preserve the family's reputation. Since Willis had just cleaned the widow's guns the night before, his fingerprints are all over them. And there you have the most plot structure you'll ever find in an Altman film.

What follows this sullen and morose setup is Altman's funniest picture since "M*A*S*H" in 1970. You see, everyone in the town knows Willis couldn't possibly commit murder. The jailer (a young Chris O'Donnell) consistently leaves the cell door open, and the sheriff (a fantastic Ned Beatty) plays cards with him – in the cell! You see, Beatty's character knows Willis is innocent because, "I've fished with him" – which seems to be his quintessence test for everyone he knows.

But, as in every Altman film, there's one character who doesn't quite fit. One who takes things more seriously than the others. Remember how pathetically dangerous Robert Duvall's Major Frank Burns seemed in "M*A*S*H" (as opposed to the maniacal buffoon Larry Linville played on the long-running television series)? It was as though the Major Burns character walked on the set from another movie – just to give the audience a jolt; to let us know this is war, and war is real.

In "Cookie's Fortune," Glenn Close plays Camille, the theatrical and mildly deranged daughter of the deceased – a slightly more comical version of her wicked turn in "Fatal Attraction." Camille is the smartest character in the picture, but she's also the one who doesn't belong; the one who, in a panic attack, might just turn this lovable comedy into a dreary exercise in unhinged madness. Fortunately, Altman is a skilled enough director to not allow this to happen, but my does he dangle it closely (pun intended). Had Glenn Close played her role ever so slightly more unsettled, the entire film would have been ruined. Altman walks a fine line allowing Camille to exaggerate her pomposity, but then her function seems to be to remind us that this is murder, and murder is real.

Still, Altman never loses sight of the fact that "Cookie's Fortune" is a comedy, dark though it may be. The script is peppered with well-drawn characters, and the acting is first-rate – particularly Ned Beatty as the sheriff, and also Liv Tyler as Camille's desperado niece, whose boyfriend just so happens to be Chris O'Donnell's maladroit jailer. Altman is a master handling these intertwining characters, as he doles out information in small enough doses for us to completely process their connections, and for us to understand the soul of the town in which they regale.

Unfortunately, "Cookie's Fortune" was released during the spring doldrums – that period between the Oscars and the summer blockbusters, when the studios trot out the fare they don't think anyone will pay to see. By the time the Oscars rolled around that year, the talk was all about "Magnolia," "American Beauty," "The Cider House Rules," and "The Green Mile." "Cookie's Fortune" was simply a forgotten footnote to American cinema in 1999. And that's a shame. You need to seek out this one. It's funny, touching, and intelligent – and easily one of Robert Altman's ten best films.

In the small town of Holly Springs, Mississippi, the highly strung Camille is leading rehearsals for a performance of Salome. When she drops in on her Aunt Cookie (whom she has a frosty relationship with) she finds that Cookie has taken her own life in order to be with her late husband again. Unwilling to have her family name tarnished by this shameful act, Camille takes a necklace and moves things around to suggest a murder. Things get more complicated when Cookie's caretaker and loyal friend is arrested for the murder and the investigation begins in earnest.

I wasn't sure what this film was about when I took up to watch it but was wary as often I have found Altman films to be too sprawling for my tastes and have struggled to get into them. This film started well and light and pretty much managed to retain that feeling for the duration, making it enjoyable to watch. In terms of plot, the central action is strong enough to hold the focus, although really the film is more about the characters than anything else. This is good as I felt the film's strength was the cast and the characters. All the characters are watchable and interesting – whether they be amusing, likeable or strange.

The film's humour is good as it matches the light tone it sets itself. At times though the humour is misjudged, for the most part it is natural and charming but there are times when the film forces jokes (for example semi-pratfalls etc) and they don't fit the mood. Likewise the drama occasionally goes a little too heavy (the ending for example) but these are minor compared to the effect of the whole. Generally it free wheels along quite nicely – funny without ever becoming absurd or unenjoyable. Having said that, it may annoy those who expect more of a firm plot.

The rich ensemble cast makes it worth watching alone. Dutton stands out in the lead role, he is as relaxed and as affable as they come which was needed to carry that role. On the total other side is a well pitched Close, her character needed to be realistic (i.e. not another Cruella De Ville) but still be unpleasant enough not to have the audience with her – Close manages it well. Tyler does ok but I found it a little hard to accept her casting at first, O'Donnell appears to have little to do but does well to play a fool without thinking of his career too much. Moore is good in support and Neal's pitching of Cookie's past and personality in only a few scenes enables us to feel for her and thus prevent her dark act from taking away from the light touch too much. Beatty has some great lines and Vance steals many of his scenes with a comic touch.

Overall this film is very slight and may not appeal to all for that reason. I felt like I'd had a rest on a hot day after watching it – it was enjoyable and undemanding. Not perfect by any means but it's fun to spend to hours with the characters herein.

Cookie shoots herself. Glenn Close discovers the body and the suicide note. Being a theatrical director, she decides this will not do... She invents a scenario for how a burglar might have murdered her. What she didn't expect was for the police to find a suspect...

Everything just goes completely right in Cookie. The atmosphere really gels, the cast are cohesive, the plot situation is interesting and its subtextual implications on suicide is also fascinating. Its actually an Altman film you feel like delving into. The amateur production of Salome the community are putting on is one of his most interesting devices. It gets you thinking of rhythms that run through the film, of suicide and human existence.

Also, Glenn Close's being a theatrical director, and carrying those skills into everyday life, to fairly extreme measures in the film, is an interesting subtext - commenting on the director/author as God.

Altman's regular themes of the small town and the weather are here - the weather once again reminding us of a higher force we have no control over.

I thought it was a fascinating, enjoyable film. I laughed out loud many times - mainly at just fun little aspects of the characters. Which is why it was such a pleasant surprise that Cookie's Fortune was not only an enjoyable movie, its actually a really great one.

10/10. One of Altman's best, and my favourites so far.

Robert Altman can be many things. He can be warped, sarcastic, biting — but he can also be affectionate and understanding. His best films often combine these characteristics with slippery perfection, especially when putting the satirical "The Player" or the balmy "Thieves Live Us" into consideration. I, however, prefer him when he's gazing upon his characters with head-shaking fondness. Certainly, "Cookie's Fortune" isn't comprised of saintly characters — but unlike "Short Cuts" or "Nashville", only a few of the players are wholeheartedly f-cked up, giving us less time to analyze potentially devilish psyches and more to relish the tight, almost familial bonds between the ever compelling characters. It's one of his most impeccably entertaining films.

Set in a minuscule Southern town defined by colorful people, sweaty heat, and catfish, in that order, "Cookie's Fortune" details the sudden death of Jewel Mae "Cookie" Orcutt (Patricia Neal), an elderly widow tired of living alone and tired of her mundane life. So without much thought, she grabs a gun out of her impressive arms closet, flops onto her bed, places a pillow over her face, and shoots herself in the head.

Her niece, Camille (Glenn Close), won't have it. A wannabe playwright with a fondness for cranking up her every emotion by a few thousand notches, she is disgusted by her aunt's carelessness: it will bring shame upon the family, and, most notably, it may even upstage her upcoming play. Consumed with dramatic audacity, she arrives at the scene and decides it would be best to make the suicide actually look like a murder: why not? She runs around the house pretending she's a giallo fiend, breaking windows, stealing valuables, eventually running out the back and throwing the gun into some bushes like Joan Crawford might have during her 1950s-set film noir years. She persuades her dimwitted sister, Cora (Julianne Moore), to go along with the charade, not realizing that covering up a suicide isn't just some cutesy thing mercurial nieces do for fun. It could lead to, you know, trouble.

Immediately, Cookie's best friend and confidant, Willis (Charles S. Dutton), is locked up at the local sheriff's office under suspicion, Cora's estranged daughter, Emma (Liv Tyler), keeping him company while also utilizing the opportunity to have closet sex with her cop boyfriend (Chris O'Donnell) to pass the time. No one, including the men who arrested Willis in the first place, believe he's the murderer — which casts further suspicion onto Cookie's weirdo nieces.

But "Cookie's Fortune" isn't a conventional crime movie, preferring to use its titular figure's sudden offing as a way of throwing the Mississippi set town off course and seeing how its residents handle the travesty. Anne Rapp's screenplay always retains a certain sort of comic lushness that makes the intersecting situations ceaselessly delightful while also maintaining a sort of broad realism. These people certainly could exist — not all realism based films have to be dirt-on-the-ground miserable — and "Cookie's Fortune" is all the more fun for it. Close is a bundle of laughs, delivering off-color lines like an unintentional comedy pro, Neal ensuring why Cookie was such a vital part of her town's life. Dutton is one of Altman's sweetest scene-stealers, and Tyler, in a terrific performance, is a consistent pleasure as a free-spirit that seasons the oft conservative setting of the film.

Most consider "Cookie's Fortune" to be minor Altman, but I think it's underrated Altman. He regularly goes deep with his films, finding ways to mirror the lives of his flawed characters with our own. But "Cookie's Fortune" is such a delicacy because it's breezy, amusing without any existential kinks. He sets scenes with a sort of nostalgic reverie, figuring that small town America isn't all "Twin Peaks" and can still preserve the same sort of complicated magic of a '70s era sitcom. We watch the characters converse wanting to be a part of their community, either because the friendships seem everlasting or because the disdainfulness is comical rather than harmful. Most would want to get out of the town "Cookie's Fortune" sets itself in right away — not me. I'd like to hole up there for a while, collect my thoughts and have conversation about the good things in life instead of the high drama that shapes the metropolises of America. Lightweight Altman may not be everyone's favorite, but I tend to prefer a grizzled filmmaker when he's enjoying himself. So maybe "Cookie's Fortune" is an accidental masterpiece — it's an underrated moment in his lustrous career.