THE LONG GOODBYE - Blu-ray reissue (UA, 1973) Kino Lorber

 Not entirely certain what to make of Robert Altman’s The Long Goodbye, (1973) to cast a petulant Elliott Gould as the iconic Raymond Chandler gumshoe, Philip Marlowe (made iconic in days of yore by the likes of Humphrey Bogart, Dick Powell and many others), but herein, reconstituted as a bit of a too-slick-for-his-own-good bumbler. All the previous Marlowes shared in a singular character trait – a brusque and cagy wit, and acidic contempt for everyone they come in contact, exporting their crime-solving queries with direct, belligerent intelligence, a sinisterly playful approach to their work, and, a decided abhorrence for greed, graft and the hypocrisies and pettifoggery of the world at large. Comparatively, Altman and Gould’s take on Marlowe just seems off – his intellect inwardly re-channeled into a chronic sense of bewilderment over the circumstances he perpetually finds himself. Despite the perennially renewable appeal of Chandler’s novels long after the author’s death, The Long Goodbye enjoyed a peculiarly ‘long’ gestation period before hitting the screen. In 1954, Dick Powell gave it a watered-down TV production. Producers, Elliott Kastner and Jerry Gershwin then picked up the baton in 1965 with dreams of making a movie version. Two years later, the rights were acquired by producer, Gabriel Katzka who hired writer, Stirling Silliphant, already well-versed in the milieu of this private eye, having authored ‘Marlowe’. At this juncture, MGM let their option lapse and Bick and Kastner bought back the rights, striking a deal with United Artists. UA’s David Picker favored Gould, despite his recent black-balling from the industry after he behaved badly on the set of A Glimpse of Tiger - the failed, then canceled 1971 dark comedy, eventually to morph into Peter Bogdanovich’s What’s Up Doc? (1972) that Gould had once aspired to direct. However, the commitment of Gould to The Long Goodbye left screenwriter, Leigh Brackett flat. She was further concerned about bringing Chandler’s detective into the latter half of the 20th century, as what had once been considered cutting-edge, hard drama in Chandler’s time, in the interim had transgressed into rank parody, rife for sham and cliché. Howard Hawks and Bogdanovich were first offered the picture. And while neither was interested, Bogdanovich did recommend Altman as his viable alternative. “Chandler fans will hate my guts,” Altman reasoned, “I don't give a damn.”  Yet, in hindsight, Altman appears to be doing everything to submarine his own masterpiece. Apart from Gould, as an unlikely Marlowe – whom Altman aspired to transform into a ‘loser’, he also cast Jim Bouton – an ex-major league baseball pitcher with zero acting experience - in the pivotal role of Marlowe’s ill-fated ‘friend’ – Terry Lennox, cherry-picking Nina Van Pallandt, the ex of infamous author, Clifford Irving whose ‘bio’ on Howard Hughes turned out to be a total fake, leading to lawsuits and scandal, and, finally director, Mark Rydell, whom he had met socially in London, as the vicious Jewish gangster, Augustine.

Upgrading Marlowe’s surroundings from the slick and savvy 1940’s to the grit and grime of 70’s L.A. had its own ‘charm’. Yet, Altman, who always reworked his movies as he ‘went along’, has ripped the core from Leigh Brackett’s screenplay – if, one ever existed – condemning Marlowe to an eccentric and chronically unraveling narrative that seems to have been cobbled together from daily discussions on the set. In this, Brackett, who co-wrote the screenplay to 1946’s The Big Sleep – along with William Faulkner, contributes to The Long Goodbye an even more Chandler-esque air than Chandler.  Arguably, she complicates an already perilously convoluted story, heavily weighted in Chandler’s code of ethics for his private eye, now plunged into an even more grotesquely corrupt world, discriminately ditching whole portions of the book to augment and recalculated the trajectory of the plot with a few darkly purposed acts of violence to appeal to the ‘then’ present pop culture, yet decidedly not in Chandler’s milieu. Had Chandler lived to see the day, he would have likely found this Long Goodbye unrecognizable. And Altman, in his prime, was decidedly known for such extemporaneity. In a parallel universe, Altman and Chandler might have been drinking buddies; each, imbued with a streak of fatalism, and both, nonconformists teetering on their own genius, to have discovered success late in life. The Long Goodbye was ill-received in its time, I suspect, as it deviates in its fidelity to Chandler’s die-hard hawkshaw, but otherwise – and oddly so – remains irreverently faithful to the tone and temperament of Chandler’s final masterwork, first published in 1953 and widely regarded as the author’s greatest novel. Without question, it was Chandler’s most intimate into which he poured all of his own bitterness and melancholia into that chivalrous alter ego, Marlowe, who traverses the dark alleys and byways of L.A. to defend the honor of an old friend. The decidedly frosty reception the picture received from audiences and New York magazine’s Judith Crist left Altman depleted.

In refining the novel for the screen, Leigh Brackett was to pare down Chandler’s plot considerably, and introduce a more laissez-faire slant, in keeping with the 70’s liberated view of sin and sex. And Altman, cleverly to refer to his private eye as Rip Van Marlowe, saw him as a classy ‘good guy’ gone to seed, the proverbial fish-out-of-water, chronically derailed, and occasionally to be thoroughly stumped when confronted by the ‘new’ unscrupulousness and profligacy of a California barely recognizable to the tales told by Chandler’s original hero. Instead of gun molls and gangsters, we get flower-power hippies and naked yoga. Yep, there’s still a femme fatale (every detective-based noir thriller needs one), Eileen Wade (Nina, Baroness van Pallandt), and also a racketeer, Marty Augustine (ineffectually realized by Mark Rydell) plus a pedestrian subplot involving some stolen money. Sterling Hayden (in a role originally envisioned for Altman beloved, Dan Blocker, who died suddenly just before filming, but would receive the picture’s dedication) decidedly his own loon, perpetually boozed-up and ailing in his own right, plays it to the hilt as chronically inebriated Hemmingway-esque author, Roger Wade. The Long Goodbye could not survive without these elemental characters of the old home guard. Alas, Elliott Gould plays Marlowe as a sardonic, self-evasive and rather clumsy creature, constantly commenting on his own obsolescence in Altman’s otherwise hermetically sealed homage to old-time Hollywood nostalgia. This Marlowe skulks in bushes, is not above peeking into windows and rants like a petulant teenager when things do not go his way, as is frequently the case. Cinematographer, Vilmos Zsigmond pays his own testimonial to that star-lit Mecca of yore, exporting a careworn color palette in soft focus to resonate with the past.  However, as a byproduct of Altman’s own hard-bitten realism, The Long Goodbye also emerges as a sophisticated, but steely tribute to the past, slashing into the tenets of an America, no longer pie-eyed on its own post-war 50’s prosperity.

The plot here is telescopically focused on the uber-wealthy sexpot, Eileen Wade who may or may have conspired to murder her husband. Or did Roger legitimately walk into the California surf and commit suicide while she incessantly flirted with Marlowe over dinner?  Altman refrains from any hanky-panky to seal the deal. In Chandler’s novel, Marlowe beds the rich bitch to his brief pleasure, but ever-lasting detriment. This served as Eileen’s alibi after she actually murders Roger in Chandler’s original. But Altman is more circumspect here, and further muddies things by suggesting Roger, morose and drunk, really did off himself. Deliberately clouding these murky waters, we get Marlowe’s loyal involvement with the unscrupulous Terry Lennox, unworthy of their friendship, who has something vaguely to do with Eileen and Marty Augustine. But exactly who owes who something – probably money – is left open for discussion. And further to obfuscate the plot, the money Marlowe eventually unearths in a suitcase (to serve as this picture’s MacGuffin) is not actually the money owed.  

Plot-wise, we are introduced to arrogant playboy, Terry Lennox who gets his old pal, Philip Marlowe to drive him to Tijuana. It’s all so innocent until the police arrest and jail Marlowe, presumably for aiding and abetting a killer after the badly beaten remains of Lennox’s wife, Sylvia turns up.  But then we learn Lennox has committed suicide in Mexico…or did he? Marlowe gets an unwelcomed visitor - Marty Augustine, flanked by his formidable goon squad. Augustine believes Marlowe bumped off Lennox and is presently hoarding the money that rightfully belongs to him. This dovetails into the first shocking moment of brutality to prove Marty’s point, as the gangster horribly disfigures his own mistress to give Marlowe enough pause to rethink the cruel and calculating callousness of the people he is playing ‘ball’ with now, and better inform his decision, regarding the payout.  Now, Marlowe tails Augustine to the fashionable Malibu digs of Roger and Eileen Wade. After Roger bolts to a sanitarium, Eileen hires Marlowe to get to the bottom of things. What some critics found disconcerting in 1973 is how easily, particularly from this meticulously crafted setup, Altman allows the plot from hereon in to simply lag, then lumber along through a series of seemingly incohesive vignettes.

What remains fascinating are the complications that dog Marlowe. Having broken into the private and posh detox clinic where Roger is staying, Marlowe unearths a connection between the Wades, Terry and Sylvia and Augustine. Marking his own investigation in Tijuana, where authorities confirm a verdict of suicide for Terry, Marlowe crashes a party over a disagreement regarding Roger’s unpaid bill for the treatment he received at the clinic. Sometime later, Eileen and Marlowe are interrupted in their flirtations by Roger, who wanders into the sea and drowns himself. Eileen confides her husband was having an affair with Terry’s wife and infers Roger might have murdered Sylvia in a drunken rage. Informing the police of as much, Marlowe is told Roger was at the clinic at the time of the murder. Believing Eileen has set him, Marlowe learns Augustine has reclaimed his ill-gotten gains and observes as Eileen drives off from the gangster’s estate. Making chase on foot, Marlowe is struck by oncoming traffic and hospitalized. After being given a harmonica by a heavily bandaged patient in the next bed, Marlowe checks himself out and hurries to Malibu, only to find the Wade estate up for sale and Eileen gone. Bribing Mexican officials, Marlowe learns Terry’s suicide was faked. He is alive and well and living in a rather posh villa. Confronting his ‘friend’, Marlowe learns Terry did murder Sylvia as he was already having an affair with Eileen. But when Terry gloats about Marlowe’s gullibility, Marlowe shoots him dead. Departing the villa, Marlowe passes Terry on the road, knowing she is on route to meet her lover, unknowing of his fate. Marlowe pulls out his harmonica and begins to play, taking a rather sick pride in his handy work.

The Long Goodbye is a deftly executed thriller whose appeal has exponentially grown since its rather tepid reception from the critics in 1973. There are renewable virtues to be had here, as Altman, in a quite ‘un-Altman-esque’ move, creates an atmosphere of tangible cynicism his re-worked Marlowe comes to know, but never entirely comprehends. Conspiring with Vilmos Zsigmond, Altman’s landscape here is neither traditional California bohemian chic nor mid-70’s grit and grime as Zsigmond’s cinematography imbues the visuals with a careworn texture, as if to tangibly expose the opacity into which Marlowe’s blundering antihero rediscovers the vices of this remade noir playground. Everything about Zsigmond’s layering of detail here plots to fill the anamorphic frame with visual obstacles. And then, there is John Williams and Johnny Mercer’s one-note wonder of a main title, Altman chronically regurgitates in everything from a mariachi rendition to a door bell ring tone, and, to no particular purpose other than, as oft has been speculated, to amuse himself. Altman’s verve for overlapping dialogue creates yet another milkiness in all of the script’s misdirection, fading in and out of scenes to tempt us with what is actually going on, but never to unravel all of it until the penultimate moment of realization for Gould’s garrulous and navel-gazing, goofball of a gumshoe.  Altman’s smoke and mirrors approach to the material is resourceful, enough to make us momentarily forget the glaring shortcomings in its actual plot, lacking a fully-formed tapestry of events to become an ever-lasting classic.

The Long Goodbye falls smack center in Altman’s 5-year reign as a devastatingly original director of influence, between his cutting-edge and Oscar-winning political satire, M*A*S*H (1970) and his even more shockingly on-point exposé on the country music scene – Nashville (1975). Neither as prolific nor as moralizing nor even direct, The Long Goodbye is a heat-stippled homage to the classic B-budgeted B&W noirs of yore, brought kicking and screaming into the widescreen/Technicolor light. In some ways, Leigh Brackett’s screenplay is to blame for the picture’s lack of Altman-esque virtues – a run-of-the-mill whodunit in which misdirection is the only thing the picture has going for it, apart from some brilliantly conceived performances given throughout. Elliot Gould’s laid-back blunderer is the biggest hurdle here, second only to Altman’s verve to expose how far California culture and film industry to have spawned such immortal works of cinema art throughout the 1940’s has sadly deteriorated in its sphere of influence. There is no place left for the likes of Raymond Chandler’s Philip Marlowe here, only Altman’s unreasonably aloof, nebbish and charm-free facsimile. Gould, coming off an Oscar-nomination for Paul Mazursky's sex farce, Bob and Carol and Ted and Alice (1969) and, in some ways, retrospectively, herein can be considered curiously seditious yet moderately stimulating as this upside-down reinvention of Chandler’s alter ego. And far from being a wash-out, Gould is particularly proficient at recapturing Marlowe’s tart-mouthed ruggedness.

Alas, this Marlowe’s mental acuity needs work. Less smart than sassy, but occasionally to exude a doggedly self-deprecating sex appeal, Gould’s interpretation here offers up some magnificently weird and shambling touches. In the end, The Long Goodbye emerges as an Altman oddity. It’s still not quite the classic some revisionists of American cinema would wish it to be, but it includes some of Altman’s most unique and downbeat thematic and stylistic touches. And while it may be argued Altman, Leigh Brackett and Gould have all taken Philip Marlowe down a peg or two, there is no denying the picture it’s horrendously shocking moments of violence (not in Chandler’s original novel) nor its enduring – if strange – appeal as a good ‘bad’ good movie. Altman uses Chandler only as his template, imbuing ‘his’ Long Goodbye with a bleaker, foggier, dingier patina of moral turpitude. There are no good guys here – not even Gould’s gumshoe – only figures of darkly purposed and despicable intent, each out for what they can get. Altman and Zsigmond whitewash even the poshest of these Malibu digs with a sort of unusual decay. And, just for shits and giggles, look for a buff Arnold Schwarzenegger in only his second screen appearance, shirtless, moustached and rippling, as a bodyguard with no lines. Diverging significantly from Chandler’s novel, Leigh Brackett’s artistic liberties evolve the characters while foreshortening the plot (arguably, also ‘slight’ in Chandler’s original) – the latter, involving blood money and a murdered heiress, a stock and pedestrian effort at best. Throughout, Brackett’s adaptation pays its homages to Chandler. But she is also forced to reconsider how far removed from that golden epoch in detective literature the world has strayed since. As such, trash replaces flash and grit, wit. Elliott Gould, in a role originally slated for either Lee Marvin or Robert Mitchum, clearly relishes the part of Marlowe. Before The Long Goodbye wrapped, he had sincerely hoped to reprise the role in a reboot of Chandler’s ‘The Curtain’ (the author’s only never-to-be-filmed novel), cribbing from a screenplay of his own design, retitled ‘It’s Always Now’. To date, the project has not materialized.

Last year’s Blu-ray outing for The Long Goodbye was Kino Lorber’s second bite at the apple, sporting a 4K remaster with superior color saturation and depth of clarity. Contrast advances, while still preserving Zsigmond and Altman’s original intent for a flatter palette with tepid tones and texturing. This looks incredibly film-like and far better than the milky mess of the 2014 Blu-ray. Altman’s desire for a stylized image holds true here. The 2014 release just looked decades’ older than it ought. Kino also upgraded the soundtrack to DTS 2.0 mono. It’s still flat and uninspiring, as in keeping with the original theatrical release. In addition to the original MGM DVD extras, all ported over here, Kino has shelled out for a new comprehensive commentary by Tim Lucas. Also on tap, the 25-min. documentary ‘RIP Van Marlowe’ featuring star and director dishing the dirt on their memories of making the picture, 20-mins. with editor/producer, David Thompson, 15-mins. with Zsigmond, and another 15-mins. with Tom Williams on Raymond Chandler and Maxim Jakubowski on hard-boiled fiction, plus trailers from hell, radio & TV spots and two theatrical trailers. Savaged by the critics, who labeled it as a ‘lazy, haphazard putdown’, with Gould the brunt of everyone’s venom, The Long Goodbye was unceremoniously yanked from distribution, its New York premiere canceled until a new $400,000 marketing campaign could be launched. Viewed today, The Long Goodbye emerges as something better, more involved and original than that, though it remains not quite the masterpiece some would have preferred from Altman in his prime. The Blu-ray is excellent. Judge and buy accordingly.

FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)

3

VIDEO/AUDIO

4.5

EXTRAS

4

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