Review of The Player (1992) by Blake P — 24 Dec 2014

The movie executives in "The Player" speak about happy endings with millions of dollars in their eyes. They discuss audiences as if they're puppy dogs hungry for Iams rather than Purina. They look at actors and directors not as assets but as money machines. No star actor attached? No acclaimed director at the helm? Throw the project in Poverty Row, or, better yet, the trash heap. If money isn't being made, who cares?

Robert Altman's anthrax lined letter to Hollywood is something that captures the imagination from the minute it starts. It is not a slow burn, nor is it something you have to "get" to truly appreciate. If you've ever watched a movie in your life (which I bet you have), then I suggest you watch "The Player" immediately. You may laugh, you may sigh, and you may humble grumble your way off the couch when it's over, but I guarantee you will never have a Friday movie night ever again that won't be devastated by the truths "The Player" spits out at a rapid pace.

We forget that behind the Oscars, the Cinetopias, and the blockbusters that befall our cities that the moviemaking world is a maniacal and very calculated business. As various stars sit down for chats with David Letterman on some random weekday night, they describe their filmmaking experiences in a way that sounds like music to our ears. But in the midst of all that, we forget that the very movie they're promoting would have never been made had there not been a writer that pitched the idea for the film to a green starved movie executive.

"Sunset Boulevard" was a cautionary tale against the Hollywood machine; even if you're the biggest star in the universe, don't be surprised if you're chewed up and spit out within a few years, "Day for Night" showed the process of making a film, and how just a few difficult actors can make a huge difference in, well ... everything. But "The Player" covers the business aspect of it all. In more ways than one, the life of a head honcho is so chaotic and plain interesting that, in comparison, the turmoiled love life of a tabloid star sounds a little bit humdrum.

Griffin Mill (Tim Robbins) wears decked-out suits, drives a fancy car, speaks without any hesitation, and isn't afraid to hurt anyone's fragile feelings. Though only in his 30s, he is the hot-shot vice president of a movie studio, pitched nearly 125 ideas a day. The actors whisper about him with daggers in their eyes (Burt Reynolds makes sure to quietly let his friend know that Mill is an asshole only a few seconds after they shake hands). However, Mill's tight and perennially scheduled life is slowly collapsing right under his feet, whether he likes to admit it or not.

He is receiving death threats from a scorned writer, a ruthless and highly successful exec from 20th Century Fox (Peter Gallagher) is close to completely stealing his job, and he longs to break up with his girlfriend and colleague (Cynthia Stevenson) who is much too intelligent to be let off the hook without a fight. And as if Mill's life couldn't get anymore complicated, he, in a blind rage, unwittingly murders a screenwriter (Vincent D'Onofrio) who he believed was the blackmailer that has been threatening his every move. And he begins dating his victim's girlfriend (Greta Scacchi) afterwards. Whoops and whoops.

"The Player" is a skewering comedy, an unconventional romance, an ensemble film, and nearly a thriller; yet it never loses its footing. Altman got nearly 60 big names to make cameos - while it sounds excessive on paper, it only makes the satirical elements more red hot. All of our favorite actors (Julia Roberts, Jeff Goldblum, Lily Tomlin, Bruce Willis, Susan Sarandon, and more) seem to make an appearance at least once, and we can only kick ourselves. Are the people that we adore with such endurance really a part of this Hollywood machine?

The film hurts like a sharp piece of glass, but I loved it with my entirety. Altman is such a brilliant director that you become equally entranced and appreciative within every shot. The dialogue pricks your skin with its sharpness, and the characters are so fully formed that we can see their humanity amidst all the tough talk they speak. I probably should have hated Robbins' character, yet I respected him in a twisted sort of way. He can get away with so much, but that's only because he's smart enough to take control of even the most turbulent of situations.

But look at the way Altman sets scenes. Characters talk over each other just as you or me. There is no needless sex, violence, or other assorted gratuities needed to make some extra cash. "The Player" is everything the executives in the film say a movie should and shouldn't be. There is sex and violence, but neither are needless. The happy ending comes as they would want it to, but it's drenched in humility, not heart-warming tinsel. The ironies come and go, but the genius of "The Player" doesn't.