User reviews

Robert Altman's "A Prairie Home Companion" is light, fluffy and fun, much like the radio show. As long as audiences keep this in mind, they'll be sold like Rhubarb pie and duct tape advertised during the broadcast.

The outstandingly cast ensemble and Altman's signature directing style stitch a flowing patchwork of laughs and tinges of nostalgia. Streep and Tomlin are dynamic together (and sing beautifully!), and Kline carries much of the film's comedy on his capable shoulders. The film represents a bygone era that the people of the show are still living in. Only Virginia Madsen, Lindsay Lohan and Tommy Lee Jones represent the outsiders to the otherwise coherent culture of the show, and as the film progresses, affect it and are affected by it in different ways.

I generally prefer films, however comic or fun they are, to have some deeper themes. But unlike the multi-layered theater that most of the film takes place in, there's nothing really behind the scenes here- it's art for arts sake. However, I still enjoyed the film and am actually relieved it didn't bog down in anything too serious.

Whether audiences are fans of the radio show or not, the film's worth its weight in Narco Bran Flakes.

Who knew that Lindsay Lohan could deliver a performance of this caliber? My friends and I, all movie aficionados, were stunned by her performance, albeit a supporting role. I never EVER thought I would utter those words. As mentioned earlier, Lohan's real acting debut is here.

Still, her's is highlighted by a magnificent ensemble, particularly Tomlin and Streep, who give dazzling performances. After all these years, they've still got it- and Tomlin, an Altman favorite, is particularly up to par with the snap-and-go dialogue.

As always, his direction must be taken with a grain of salt- you either love him or hate him, but the performances are what make this film soar.

Kudos!

I used to listen to this on the radio and then just luckily stumbled onto the video by accident. It was a lot of fun to watch and extremely entertaining.I encourage you to watch this if you have the chance.

Before watching this movie, I had never heard of writer/performer/radio personality Garrison Keillor and the main reason I rented this was because it was Robert Altman's last film. As usual, he managed to rope in several high-profile Hollywood names into his cast - Woody Harrelson, Tommy Lee Jones, Kevin Kline, Lindsay Lohan, Virginia Madsen, John C. Reilly, Meryl Streep, Lily Tomlin - but, as Altman himself admits in the rambling but not uninteresting Audio Commentary - he is basically just giving cinematic life to Keillor's preoccupations and radio show. The latter features a few Country & Western acts performing for a live audience (which is never shown) including Harrelson and Reilly as rude, lewd singing cowboys (their "Bad Jokes" song is a delightful highlight), Streep (who is clearly having a ball), Tomlin and Lohan as a singing family and even Sam Peckinpah favorite L. Q. Jones as another singing cowboy/old-timer.

The most interesting aspects of the film are non-music related, however: it starts out in a Noir-ish style with smooth-talking detective Guy Noir (Kline) acting as narrator and observer and his clumsy attempts to stop the Axeman (Tommy Lee Jones) from foreclosing the show. Along the way, he meets and falls for a white-clad Angel of Death (Madsen) who, having expired herself in a traffic accident some years back while listening to Keillor's show, has now come to claim the lives of the two Joneses and possibly Kline himself...

While perhaps a minor film in the Altman canon, it is still a respectable and fitting swan song for him. The shadow of impending death hangs so heavily on the movie that it is indeed remarkable how entertaining it actually is; I'm sure there are some more examples of a distinguished film-maker reflecting so openly on his approaching death but the three I can think of at the moment off the top of my head are the Wim Wenders/Nicholas Ray collaboration LIGHTNING OVER WATER (NICK'S MOVIE) (1979; which I've yet to watch for myself), Bob Fosse's ALL THAT JAZZ (1979; like Altman's film, also disguised as a musical) and John Huston's appropriately-titled last film, THE DEAD (1987).

I thought this was a great kind of love letter to the radio show of the past,, but as a movie it kind of left wanting something that I wasn't getting. The cast is incredible,, but with such an incredible cast I expected some story beyond what was given. I may have completely missed something between the lines,, but I'd say this one is just good,, not great. It's perfectly worth watching,, just don't expect a lot of story.

As usual Altman will divide his audience in a radical way. He, clearly, doesn't do it on purpose but it happens more often than not with the works of real artists where there is no room (or very little) for concessions. It is what it is, his vision, his whole. He mentioned that the film was about death and found that not everyone agreed not even some of his closest and more devoted collaborators. That's what he saw, that's what it is but it's bound to be contradicted by critics and audiences alike. Personally, I don't think I'll see a better film this year. The work of an idiosyncratic artist and masterful craftsman doesn't hit the main stream screens every day of the week. My only reservation is that the film is too short. I wanted to go on and on and on. To say that Meryl Streep is sublime seems kind of redundant but never mind, she is, sublime, surprising, funny, very funny, moving, very, very moving. Lily Tomlin and Meryl have the best moments in the film. They appear, look and sound as if they had been working together all their lives. Total chemistry. Lindsay Lohan is the biggest surprise. Good for her. That's the way to forge a way ahead. Work with the best. Woody Harrelson and John C Reilly are simply glorious. Kevin Kline does a Kevin Kline in the most enchanting way. It was also a delight to see Garrison Keillor himself playing himself, not just wonderfully but very convincingly as well. I recommend it with all my heart.

A Prairie Home Companion

rating: 3.5 out of 4

In truth, I'm not one to worship Robert Altman. His films—barring the rarities—have been, for me, mostly inconsequential. They're wispy and lighthearted and mostly nonchalant. They work, but on a momentary basis; acting like a bubble that bursts the second the lights go up. Most of the same can be said about A Prairie Home Companion. Only, this time is simply works better.

Garrison Keillor who penned the "A Prairie Home Companion" radio show also works the fingers behind the typewriter for its film adaptation. His script has a kind of "concentrated structure" to it; it's duration running throughout "A Prairie Home Companion's" final live broadcasted show. He balances onstage performance between backstage interactions, the camera smoothly swirling amongst the audience, the stage, and the inner workings of the theatre.

If Altman flashed the negative to achieve a washed-out look for The Long Goodbye, he did quite the opposite for A Prairie Home Companion. The cinematography is rich and sensational, often whirling between different sets in long, gorgeously extended shots. This isn't your typical backstage DV debacle; but the work of a director at the very height of his career.

The cast is yet another stunning ensemble, most of them probably flocking to Altman's direction. Beat this: Meryl Streep, Woody Harrelson, Kevin Kline, Lily Tomlin, Virginia Madsen, Tommy Lee Jones, Lindsay Lohan, John C.Reilly, and Garrison Keillor. Yeah. The beauty of the film is that none of these actors quite seem to be acting. Attribute this to Altman's classic overlapping dialogue, but don't forget to bow your heads to the performers as well. Often I'm annoyed by Altman's stubborn persistence with overlapping dialogue. I'll argue that when Altman should be trying to make cinema, he insists on imitating real life. But with A Prairie Home Companion, the overlapping dialogue is mandatory. Altman's best when he's making a film mostly about people and not about story. This is most obvious here. My one complaint with the film is its aversion to storyline. But this isn't too much of a problem because A Prairie Home Companion is, if nothing else, about the people of the radio show. This is a story about human beings, where overlapping dialogue is only expected.

The story finds itself toeing the line with magical realism. Virginia Madsen plays The Dangerous Woman, who Guy Noir (Kevin Kline) first describes as a femme fatale, and later as an angel. As she convinces us of her divinity, Noir finds a way to use her as an assassin to ward off the buyers of the radio show. This fantasy element works only to heighten the vibrancy of the rest of the film, where feet stay firmly planted to reality. Meryl Streep and Lily Tomlin play the singing sisters Yolanda and Rhonda Johnson, with Lindsay Lohan as their gloomy daughter Lola. The three, as contrasting as the actors are on paper, flit about in a realm of familial nostalgia, with Lola penciling out her suicidal songs and scoffing beside their make-up mirrors. John C. Reilly and Woody Harrelson are Dusty and Lefty, the singing cowboys who crack dirty jokes backstage and jerk the chain of censorship with Al (Tim Russell), the stage manager. Chuck Akers (L.Q. Jones) and Evelyn (Marylouise Burke) are the elderly lovebirds who chase a potentially fatal lovemaking. And holding all these characters together is Garrison Keillor, whose nostalgia is matched only by his pragmatism and lack of sentimentality towards the show's demise. His performance is probably the most memorable, as the picture is fuller when he strolls about within it, offering truth to the blind antics of some of the other roles with his endless cache of stories.

A Prairie Home Companion's bubble doesn't burst as the lights go up. Instead, we find ourselves wishing the show would go on and the performers keep up doing their crazy little acts. This is Altman in his element; where humans are meant to be portrayed as humans. It's still lighthearted and mostly nonchalant, sure, but it's also about nostalgia and reminiscence, and the beauty that surrounds a family built behind the red curtains and a WLT microphone.

"A Prairie Home Companion" (2006 release; 105 min.) is a big screen adaptation of the weekly radio show hosted by Garison Keillor, and at that time arguably NPR's most popular or certainly most treasured variety show. As the movie opens, we meet Guy Noir, who is the head of security for the Fitzgerald, the St. Paul theater where A Prairie Home Companion takes place each week (when it is not touring). Noir informs us in a voice-over that the theater has been bought by a no-good Texan and that tonight's performance is likely the very last. Meanwhile the cast is getting ready for tonight's show, as we get to know the host Garrison Keillor and a slew of others, including the Johnston Sisters. At this point we are 10 min. into the movie...

Couple of comments: this turned out to be the very last film directed by Robert Altman. Except for a few fleeting scenes reminding us of "Nashville", this really doesn't feel like an Altman movie at all. Instead, this is Garrison Keillor's film. He not only stars, but also wrote the script, including the lyrics of most songs performed. As a longtime fan myself of the NPR show, and having attended the live broadcast in person when the show has made stops in Cincinnati (where I live, and which was a regular stop for the show for years), I found this film to be a curious mix. When it sticks to bringing the live show, it works quite well, but when it veers into the fictional side story, it feels forced and frankly misplaced. Here is the "lady in the white trench coat" (turns out she's an angel), there is Guy Noir supervising security, etc. The film sports an all-star case, way too many to name. The best of the bunch are the Johnston Sisters, played by Lily Tomlin and, even better, Meryl Streep who shows us what a terrific singer she is. However, the presence of Lindsay Logan (playing Meryl Streep's daughter) is completely unnecessary and frankly annoying. The best aspect of the film is clearly the music, with its wonderful mix of country, bluegrass, americana, folk, jazz, and gospel.

As mentioned, I was a longtime fan of the NPR show and never bothered to see this when it was released in 2006. Then just the other day it was listed on Showtime, and curiosity got the better of me and I finally watched it. Of course a lot has changed since 2006. Keillor retired from the show in 2016 and then a year later was cut from any further ties to the show and NPR altogether (due to #MeToo allegations). The show was renamed but never flourished again like in the ol' days, and finally bit the dust altogether earlier this year. Meanwhile, "A Prairie Home Companion" (the film) is a bit of an oddity, although certainly worth checking out, mostly for the music and Meryl Streep's outstanding performance.

Altman has created the anti-Hollywood, which I'm sure was not by accident. A true gem.

It's a shame that this was not a more commercially successful vehicle. The ensemble cast is superb, without exception. Garrison Keillor has a face made for radio, but I understand why he has to play himself. Nice baritone, but those are weapons-grade eyebrows.

Altman pokes fun at standard 21st century American movie fare, but mid-20th century radio gets lampooned pretty well too. The eponymous radio show, the state of Minnesota, and mindless belief all takes it in the slats. Even irony itself is not safe from Altman's watchful eye. It's deliciously subtle and, by starts, wonderfully bawdy. Paying attention pays dividends. Doing subtle right takes a lot of work.

One of the sweet surprises is that people you knew could act can also sing: Merryl Streep, Lily Tomlin, Woody Harrelson (not a typo), Lindsey Lohan, and John C. Reilly croon. Where else could they strut such stuff? Underplaying their roles, never stealing a scene, letting the well-written script be the star. Kevin Kline was never better, not even in "Wanda". Al Gore's old roommate is heartlessly evil.

I'm glad I watched it alone because I felt free to laugh out loud. That would have been out of character with the movie.

It's unlikely you would only like this movie. You'll love it or run the other way. I didn't want it to end.

Don't look for a sequel.

"A Prairie Home Companion" as a radio show is something I know of but have never heard. Ditto for Garrison Keillor. So the movie has to stand on its own for me. And it did stand. I laughed here and there. Kevin Kline's slap-stick is funny. There is one short scene between Guy Noir (Kevin Kline) and Molly (Maya Rudolph) and a telephone that was so silly that I laughed out loud.

The story line was strange. I guess you'd call it episodic. The individual scenes seemed to stand out more than the movie as a whole. The scenes with the Johnson sisters - Yolanda Johnson (Meryl Streep) and Rhonda Johnson (Lily Tomlin) - were the best. Meryl Streep sings quite well. And Lindsay Lohan as Lola Johnson - Yolanda's daughter - is good as the angst ridden kid, strange to say.

I noticed that many in the audience were laughing at scenes that I clearly didn't get. So I suspect there are many in-jokes for those in the know.

The music was old-time but OK.

I can't remember when I've been so disappointed with a film. I had read Roger Ebert's glowing review and our local guy also gave the movie 4 out of 4 stars, so I expected a lot. I loved Gosford Park, and the previews of this movie looked so fun! Someone else already used the Emporer's New Clothes as a comparison, and I thought that was entirely appropriate. The critics are seeing something that's not here.

The cast for this is stellar; Lily Tomlin and Meryl Streep were wonderful with what they were given to do, which wasn't much. John C. Reilly and Woody Harrelson, Lindsay Lohan (who plays a smartly understated role), Virginia Madsen, Kevin Klein, Tommy Lee Jones ...they all were great with what they were given...but not enough to hold my interest.

This was like Seinfeld; a movie about nothing, but without the laughs. I did smile a few times, but there was nothing genuinely funny about this, nothing new. I don't know what all the critics are seeing. Perhaps they are wearing some kind of rose colored glasses the rest of us don't have. I am sure nothing I say here will dissuade people from seeing this film, but don't say I didn't warn you.

"It's not true that I had nothing on. I had the radio on." Marilyn Monroe about posing nude on her famous calendar.

If there is anyone more laid back or brighter than Garrison Keillor in show business, let me know, because Robert Altman's A Prairie Home Companion, based on Keillor's long-running Minnesota Public Radio saga, shows Keillor as an audience sees him each week—like a god gently guiding an eccentric ensemble through excellent performances made to look as easy as his demeanor. This film stands near Altman's Nashville as a testimony to the director's gift for sustaining strong characters in layers of dialogue approximating overlapping conversations at an interesting party.

Meryl Streep and Lily Tomlin as the singing country Johnson sisters bring back memories of Reese Witherspoon's amazing turn as June Carter and Streep's own previous country singer in Postcards. Ditto Woody Harrelson and John C. Reilly as the singing and joking Dusty and Lefty. But best of all is Kevin Kline as Keillor's real radio creation, Guy Noir, the '40's dapper, inquisitive, naughty narrator and security head for the production. Klein embodies the melancholic mood always at least hidden underneath any show's last show, despite Keillor's nonchalant assertion that every show is your "last show." Around this realistic, charming premise of talented performers at their last performance, writer Keillor interjects a ghostly beauty in a white leather trench coat, Virginia Madsen playing Dangerous Woman, the spirit of death, gently accompanying those about to die and the moribund show itself. The character is a lyrical embodiment of the theme that nothing lasts but the love shared in any experience. Keillor remains in character after someone dies by stating he doesn't "do eulogies." Nor does he do one for the show, which in real life still lasts in St. Paul from 1974.

So enjoyable are Altman, his ubiquitous HD camera, and his busy dialogue that you feel a part of the proceedings, catching the sweet smell of success for everyone attached to this thoroughly realized song of love to theater, music, and creativity.

I count myself as a long-time fan of the radio show (PHC). Before going to see the film, I wondered what kind of movie could possibly be made of this and what would be the point of making such a movie. After seeing it, I am still wondering. The plot is thin and some of the casting is dubious. It is hard to see Lily Tomlin as a sister in a Scandinavian singing family. Streep, on the other hand, was a good choice. In the end, the experience was not too different from seeing a live performance of the show, but cluttered with irrelevant plot elements. Having seen the show at the Hollywood Bowl just a few days before, I found that to be vastly superior. Anyone interested in 'seeing' the radio show would do better to attend a performance, or get hold of one of the many performances televised on PBS over the years.

Altman's latest ensemble piece is a film that wholly defies categorization. Is it a comedy? Is it a musical? Is it a detective story? Its success undoubtedly stems from being an atmospheric amalgam of the aforementioned, as well as a fine cast, – while its ultimate weakness buds from eliciting a mere "So what?" from the audience toward the end.

Let me clarify. Robert Altman is the emperor of ensembles and his usual fare consists of wielding a behind-the-scenes style of film-making in which we intimately get to know every last character through following them around unflinchingly for a day or so. In A Prairie Home Companion the story is literally a behind-the-scenes reel – of an American live radio-show that airs weekly. We partly follow them on stage, while never seeing audience, because we ARE the audience. But Altman directs his dutiful gliding steadicams into the cluttered, frantic dressing room where the story really takes place. Here it is wildly unfocused but wildly enjoyable.

What is of interest is that the radio show is on its last night, during which the film takes place. After this the thirty year old country show A Prairie Home Companion will close and be torn down to make room for a parking lot. Screenwriter and radio leader Garrison Keillor remarks on how we must live every show like it's our last, and voilà, A Prairie Home drifts into an endless charade of sing-and-dance performances, corny country one-liners and melancholic talk of memories gone by that all contributes to an extremely cozy atmosphere. It becomes sweet and real as Meryl Streep talks about tributing her mama to whom the show is dedicated, with a Southern drawl tingling her soft-spoken voice.

On that note the cast are fantastic and dynamic, and best of all, completely chameleon-like in their respective parts. Granted, Lindsay Lohan looks lost among such a well-respected ensemble cast but she gets to shine a little when she finally gets on stage and sings. All the while Robert Altman reaffirms his position as an apt director by giving us a seamless intercutting of characters and their small story lines. Regrettably the cast are all that is in focus, for the film boasts of no truly interesting settings – certainly not like the lush upper-class estate of Gosford Park at any rate, which provided limitless visual stimulation for the viewer whenever the plot turned a little sour.

A Prairie Home Companion is one of those clearly-above-average type of films that still does not manage to touch you unless you put some effort into it and remain super-focused during the talkative behind-the-scenes reel. It never manages as intriguing or charming as Gosford Park but this can perhaps be attributed to personal taste – if you prefer English country estate or American country side – ultimately, this is still a well-crafted ensemble piece and a worthy addition to Altman's resumé.

7 out of 10

A gentle piffle, "A Prairie Home Companion" is the Summer's most lovely find - a movie that is easy on the ears and seemingly made of sheary, impossible gossamer that would spindle or crush under a more heavy-handed production.

The impressive cast seems to be having a whole lot of fun - Meryl Streep, Kevin Kline, Lily Tomlin, Woody Harrelson, Lindsay Lohan, LQ Jones et al all have perfunctory if labored singing voices, but it is scripter Garrison Keillor that is the thread that stitches this one together so well. The result is an infectious, genial collection of characters and occasions whose easy charms stay with the viewer days after the film finally unspools its last credit.

Although I have never heard a PHC performance before, the film plays as a tribute to the old days of radio shows and more over, a loving though chilly valentine to the radio days of old. Anyone old enough though not near an NPR station might not know the show but most certainly can hum the tune.

Keillor, he with an alien-like E.T. observation of the goings-on at the final performance of his 30+ year-old live radio show, has a wonderful announcer voice and an above average singing voice that anchors the honest, down home corn-pone credibility of the film. He is a cypher through the picture - a guy you could listen to for hours chat about his exploits, introduce faux commercials and sing a song about nothing in particular. GK has such an ethereal presence that you look at him with such amazement because a "regular" joe like he earns such a shorthand with his audience and can stand toe to toe with aplomb next to Oscar winners like Kline and Streep. It's a great, understated performance.

The movie, directed by the legendary Robert Altman, has such a light touch that it's hard to not fall easily into it's flow. It's dreamy, slight and surreal, yet sets up its universe that is vaguely of today - but what world still has an actual radio show broadcast across the nation so detailed and entertaining as this? Altman and Keillor do the amazing - they deny the audience of any cheap emotion and pathos or short cuts to pay off the scenario. As much as this movie is about the wistful honor and simple entertainment of such a radio programs that used to rule the airwaves in the 1930s through the 1950s, both writer and director refuse to pander to suspected emotional payoffs or happy endings that lesser film creators might. This is a cold, simple and honest movie about the last kick at the can of a venerable institution, and as they choreograph it: so what? Every show, as Keillor says in the film, is the last show. Big deal.

Despite it's frigid demeanor, "A Prairie Home Companion" is filled with warm, quiet moments that offers each cast member has a shining, sterling moment of performance - though none takes centre stage and overpowers or overacts. If anyone goes swinging for the balconies, its Altman regular Tomlin, who creates such a wonderful counterbalance to Streep's simple, honest Minnesotan singing sister partner that she stands as the picture's meta heart - a desperate, hardened yet proud woman backed into a career corner who doesn't know what to do after her regular job is prematurely retired by big radio business. Tomlin deserves an Oscar.

For a film that is steeped in a sentimentality that no longer exists, Altman keeps his sharpened artist eye wandering the set for the most interesting player in the room instead of mourning the sad gone before. There's no release in the movie, no eulogy for the past. "A Prairie Home Companion" is a straight-forward document of what was, not what could have been or what will be.

The director's brilliance is that his lens cares about what technical and bits of business that come to affect in the making of the final show which really tell the story - of a group of people who spend their Saturday nights singing songs, telling stories and transmitting their folksy well-wishes to an imaginary audience listening in on their bedside table radio. In the movie, Altman and Keillor let their staged audience seated in the cavernous Fitzgerald Theater in Minneapolis or those sitting in shoebox movie theater in Anywhere, USA fill in the relevance.

One of the best movies of the year.

"A Prairie Home Companion" is a sweet adaptation of Garrison Keillor's radio show. Much as director Robert Altman adds his trademark ensemble dialogue touches, it is strictly for fans. I have been one for decades ever since I caught it on the car radio and mistook it for just this kind of old-fashioned radio program that appears like Brigadoon out of the ether from the opening shot of transmission towers as night falls, just as I used to catch variety shows at night on my AM transistor radio, like WWVA's Country Jamboree, that still airs at the same time as Keillor's.

Unlike the show's brief stint on the Disney Channel (satirized effectively on "The Simpsons" as too cerebral humor for television) or the recent version of some of the same songs and skits from the film on PBS's "Great Performances", this is not just a film of the broadcast, which I've seen in person twice (once at its home base as shown here at the Fitzgerald Theater in St. Paul and once on the road in NYC where I remember the participants running around more frantically just in time to sound casual on the air), but a tribute to the kind of show that inspired it.

Keillor's own script, not dissimilar in plot to a Muppets movie, has regular characters from his stories appear, with mixed effectiveness, as real people, literally or as types. Though there is only elliptical reference to Lake Woebegone, Kevin Kline is gumshoe "Guy Noir", Virginia Madsen is an angel of intersecting coincidences (with an ironic joke about NPR driveway moments), and Woody Harrelson and John C. Reilly are funnier and more musically talented ersatz cowboy duo "Dusty" and "Lefty", respectively, than we usually hear. Instead of Keillor's monologue all at once, we get a running joke of pieces of his drawn-out explanation of how he got started in radio.

Who raises the film to larger interest is Meryl Streep and Lily Tomlin playing a sister singing duo. Not only are they magical masters of Altman's overlapping dialogue technique as the camera circles around them (such as we briefly saw when they introduced Altman for his Honorary Oscar), but clearly improv around the situation. They spur Lindsay Lohan as Streep's sullen daughter to new heights of interacting with chemistry and singing in character. Streep's sweet and supportive, but not wholly disingenuous, sister and mother is amusingly the opposite of her titular boss in the simultaneously released "The Devil Wears Prada", in case we needed more proof of her range as an actress.

The fictional radio show is almost all musical. Unlike the public radio show's more typical "Ed Sullivan Show" mix of international, jazz, classical or regional music, this more Grand Ole Opry version has a heavy emphasis on red state values inspirational songs. We see usual guests the Hopeful Gospel Quartet with the addition of a Negro spiritual interpreter to add some visual diversity, along with Maya Rudolph with nothing particularly to do as a pregnant stage manager's assistant. We also see the weekly show's past and present regulars from usual back-up band (Andy Stein, Butch Thompson, Pat Donohue, Peter Ostroushko) and sound effects expert Tom Keith. Most of the songs are Keillor's twist on traditional or familiar tunes with modified humorous lyrics, including an acerbic "Frankie and Johnny" by Lohan in updated celebration of the murder ballad.

Even when corny, the humor was gentle (and the trailer gave away most of the best jokes) and the older audience constantly chuckled appreciatively, in a converted multiplex theater much like the Fitzgerald.

Except for an epilogue that doesn't quite jell, the casual action mostly takes place in a back stage stuffed with decades of performance memorabilia that reinforces the sense of place. This is a lovely tribute to the culture of Midwest America.

The movie opens with a view of rural Minnesota, accompanied by 1950's radio...music, farm report, commodity prices, etc. It quickly moves to Mickey's Diner, an establishment located just a few blocks from the Fitzgerald Theater in downtown St. Paul, Minnesota. There we see Guy Noir, whose job is managing security for the "A Prairie Home Companion" radio program. Soon we are in the theater, preparing for the live performance of the radio program. Virtually all the remainder of the movie happens in the Fitzgerald.

Note: I have attended two APHC performances in the Fitzgerald, and have eaten in Mickey's Diner. The exteriors in the movie are all real, and the stage, the sets and auditorium shots of the Fitzgerald are likewise genuine. Even a brief shot of a church near the theater, toward the end of the movie, is genuine. You can see some photos at PHCFan.com. The stage action in the movie is just like it happens in real life. Whether the dressing-room scenes and GK's disregard for deadlines are similar to real-life, I don't know.

During much of the movie we are puzzled by a mysterious woman in white who has certainly caught Guy Noir's eye...her garments are so tight he can "read the embroidery on her panties." She walks calmly around the stage and through the set during the show itself. We learn her identity in the second half of the movie.

The real-life Sue Scott plays a hairdresser in the movie, a speaking role. Even if you don't recognize her face you will recognize her voice. All the other regulars seem to play themselves.

The movie audience really enjoyed the movie. We laughed heartily at the jokes, and applauded at the end. It is a feel-good movie, a must-see for fans of the weekly radio program.

Not Altman at his best, but still far superior to most of the stuff that makes it to the multiplex. Because I'm a fan of the radio show, I enjoyed seeing it come to life (though it doesn't match actually seeing a broadcast performed live, which I managed to do some years ago at the World Theater). Could have done with less of the backstage subplot and more of the on stage performances. Absolutely delighted to hear Dusty & Lefty ( John C. Reilly & Woody Harrelson) pick out a version of "I used to work in Chicago..." It was the first dirty song I ever learned the lyrics to, maybe 50 years ago. I wonder how many others will recognize it. In an era punctuated by so many fart jokes and Adam Sandler-type nastiness passing as humor, it's great to have this film as an example of how funny genuine wit can be. BTW, a correction for some of the political postings: although the PHC radio show is broadcast on many NPR affiliate stations, it is actually produced and distributed by American Public Media, a separate organization.

The acting ensemble is fun, and able to rouse a chuckle, especially proved comedic veterans Lily Tomlin, and the two risqué singing cowboys played by Woody Harrelson and John C. Reily. For a few chuckles and some fine old time country songs, you'll find it amusing but as an actual film, it's a disappointment. Basically if you enjoy the radio show the film is named after and based on you'll find interest in the film. It goes nowhere. Forget about the traditional rise, climax, fall. It's pretty much flatlined the whole time. As interesting as some of the characters are, there are so many of them that they all are underdeveloped and its hard for us to become too attached to any of them. I think this film probably set out what it meant to. To make a semi fictional film, about the landmark radio program for fans of it to enjoy and perhaps scare up a few new listeners. It's exactly what the poster say it is. A visual representation of Garrison Keiler's program.

I just saw this movie last weekend at the SXSW film festival. I thought it was a wonderfully funny film. I might be a little partial since she is one of my favorites, but Meryl Streep was superb! The rest of the cast-Lohan, Tomlin, Kline, Reilly, Madsen, Harrelson-were all great as well. The movie actually felt like a documentary almost because the dialogue and activity was so real. Kline's character is hilariously out of place and the dialogue between the other actors is a riot. The jokes were great and the whole movie was really funny. The whole theater clapped at the end of the film. This is definitely another Altman great, I just wish he had won a real Oscar and not the honorary one!

It pains me to say it, but up until I watched A Prairie Home Companion, I had never seen a Robert Altman film from beginning to end. Not for lack of trying mind you, but it just never happened. But with the passing of one of the greatest American filmmakers of the past few decades, I decided to give at least one of them a shot. And even though Companion is imperfect, it does succeed in making me want to view other films he directed.

The film is an ensemble piece that tells the story of the last broadcast for the titular radio show. Going from backstage to centre stage, the viewer gets a first hand look at the inner workings of the advertisements, singing and shenanigans that go into creating an olden style Mid-Western radio programme.

Trying to describe any of the numerous subplots is an exercise all in itself. Suffice to say, there are at least a dozen characters in the film, and at least a dozen plots all join together to form a cohesive narrative that runs smoothly alongside the main element of the radio broadcast. It is an interesting experiment, and reminded me a lot of older films of a bygone era.

Working alongside Altman, Garrison Keillor has created a wonderful rendition of what I would imagine would have been a normal day at the office for him. Just hearing his voice introducing acts, reading off advertisements or singing is enough to watch the film alone. His ability to convey all of his radio knowledge into a working script is nothing short of astounding. Its authenticity is only one upped by the repertoire of rhetoric used throughout the film. Clever and witty banter among characters is frequent, and even the raunchiest of phrases and ideas sound eloquent and sophisticated. There is a certain sweetness in the naivety of some of the language employed by Keillor's characters, but it makes it all the more proper and true to where the film takes place.

But this is what also damages the film. Some exchanges between characters go for far too long with this employed dialogue, and it just gets awkward. You know that these actors would never talk like this in real life, or in any other movie for that matter. The majority of them just look too timid to respect the work enough to make it feel realistic coming out of their mouths. At times, it just becomes too sophisticated and too good for the film it is in. If this was a film from the 1970's, the witty banter would have gone a long way with hilarious consequences. But in 2007, it just gets mild snickers and not much else. It is not that the dialogue was too hard to follow, it just did not feel proper to use for the entirety of the film. It works in a lot of areas, but when it does not, it just drags the film kicking and screaming through a dry spell of boredom.

The acting is another up and down slope. All of the characters are interesting, and are all given a presence within the film no matter how small the role. You know that they are important to the radio show, and therefore, are important to the film. Keillor for one, is central to the entirety of the film, and really drives much of its points home. His innocence and ignorance are the driving force of many scenes, and I think that if his character was played by a professional actor, it would not have had nearly as much intensity as the kind that he brings to the screen.

But sadly, not all of the actors really get time to shine like Keillor. Woody Harrelson and John C. Reilly are one-note jokes who are vaguely explained, and not really expressed well at all. We know these two are accomplished actors, but seeing them hear is just awkward (especially after all of Reilly's screwball comedy antics as of late). Tommy Lee Jones is one of the most important characters in the film, and he basically brings nothing to the table. Maya Rudolph is criminally underused in her role, yet is nowhere near as strong an actor as the other three.

And then far too much focus is put on Meryl Streep, Lily Tomlin and Lindsay Lohan. Streep and Tomlin are Altman regulars, so it is obvious why they are here. But why in the hell is Lohan here? Was she working towards getting a bit more street credibility so Hollywood would take the spoiled brat seriously? She does alright for herself, but her character just does not connect in the way she should. When things really start happening, you really do not even see the character she is playing. You see Lohan playing a caricature of herself. But then again, so does Tomlin, as she mimics her behaviour from those infamous YouTube videos in some sequences. But at least she looked alright doing it. Streep is really downplayed on the other hand. But if there were so many issues to easily pick up on with these three, why devote so much time to them?

Kevin Kline and Virginia Madsen on the other hand, work perfectly. They play off of each other well, and are even better on their own. Their characters are beautifully expressed and quite majestically move scene to scene making everyone around them better. Of course, it helps that both are playing very enigmatic characters, but that does not take away from any of their moments on screen (if anything, it just begs for more exploration).

On the whole, A Prairie Home Companion is a decent effort, and an enjoyable one at that. It has a lot of interesting ideas, but it could have done with a bit of a polish to fix some rather boring eyesores.

7.5/10.

It seems, from the audience demographics, that I'm the only person under 60 who listens to PHC. Do I have any business reviewing what is, apparently, an older person's movie? Does one's tolerance for excitement diminish so much with age that I myself would consider this watchable 20 years from now? Can I ever trust IMDb user reviews again, after seeing an average score of 7.7 for this most awful of movies? And can I ever enjoy listening to PHC on the radio again, after suffering through the two most tedious hours I have ever spent in a movie theater?

I went to see it with my girlfriend. She wanted to see The Lake House. I pointed out that it had gotten terrible reviews, and it wasn't on for 2 hours, and said that she could trust the Prarie Home Companion people. I've been a fan of the show since Reagan was in office.

You would think that a 2-hour PHC movie could be at least as good as a 2-hour PHC radio show. But the movie suffered some major flaws relative to the radio show:

1. You couldn't get up and iron clothes or file bills or do whatever you do during the musical parts of the show.

2. The funny parts of the radio show, like the monologue and the skits, weren't in the movie.

3. The movie didn't set any boundaries between reality and fantasy. In the radio show, you always know where the boundaries are between truth and fiction. The sketches are fiction; the actors are real. The movie was presented as if the sketches were real. Guy Noir is a real detective; Dusty and Lefty are real cowboys. A mildly amusing sketch about an orangutan, a rottweiler, a flock of geese, and a letter from an ex-lover - much the sort of stuff you might hear on the show - was presented as if the ex-lover bit was reality, so that it was not so much funny as pathetic.

4. The movie couldn't decide whether it wanted to be slapstick or drama. Really serious things would happen to or be talked about by the actors, and I couldn't tell whether we were supposed to sympathize with them, or laugh at them. When Lily Tomlin and Meryl Streep are talking about their family woes while Lily's daughter reads her bad poems about suicide, the stories are just outrageous enough that you can't tell if it's supposed to be a comic piece or character drama.

5. I couldn't reconcile the supernatural elements of the "plot" with the familiar background of the PHC radio show. Not to mention that everything that happens, makes no difference, and you don't know what happens in the final scene. Also, a tip to GK for any future screenplays: Introduce the first plot event LESS than one hour into the show.

If they had just presented a PHC show without the distracting and uninteresting "plot", they could have fit in more interesting stuff. If they really wanted to go with a plot, they should have cut 5 or 6 musical numbers out to give them a little time to do something with it. Instead, they gave us a pseudo-movie, pseudo-radio show with a pseudo-plot and pseudo-characters not developed enough to be called 2-dimensional. I writhed in my seat waiting for it to end, knowing that I would owe my girlfriend big-time for this. If I'd been there alone, I would have walked out. I tried to read a book, but she didn't have one and said I had to suffer with her.

I have to look on the bright side. It was much worse for my girlfriend - she hates folk music.