Prairie Home Companion, A (2006) ****

Director: Robert Altman, screenplay: Garrison Keillor, story: Garrison Keillor and Ken LaZebnik. Cast: Woody Harrelson, Tommy Lee Jones, Garrison Keillor, Kevin Kline, Lindsay Lohan, Virginia Madsen, John C. Reilly, Maya Rudolph, Meryl Streep, Lily Tomlin, Marylouise Burke, L.Q. Jones, Sue Scott, Tim Russell, Tom Keith, Jearlyn Steele. Produced by Robert Altman, Wren Arthur, Joshua Astrachan, et alia. Cinematography by Edward Lachman, editing by Jacob Craycroft, production design, Dina Goldman. 105 minutes, PG-13

A PRAIRIE HOME COMPANION has been a radio fixture for over 30 years. Most of us have seen it only in our mind's eye until now. I confess that I know very little about it, or for that matter about radio. My background in Europe and the States concentrated on books, movies, music, and more movies. In other words, I am light-years away from the potential viewers of APHC, therefore an outsider rather than a fan of the show or of Garrison Keillor himself. So here is my rookie's opinion: The film is great, and I give it four stars (the highest possible rating) even though I was not able to recognize every single reference.

The plot is basically simple: PHC has been running for many years at the Fitzgerald Theatre (named after F.Scott Fitzgerald) in St. Paul, Minnesota. Alas, tonight's performance will be the last one; a Texas corporation has bought out the theatre and plans to demolish it. As per the Joni Mitchell song "Big Yellow Taxi," the Texans intend to "pave Paradise and put up a parking lot."

Guy Noir, a name that evokes Philip Marlowe and film noir, is played with inimitable gusto by the great Kevin Kline. He is, among other sometimes mysterious functions, the PHC head of security whatever that means.

The plot, such as it is, consists primarily of the reactions of G.K. (Garrison Keillor), the central figure (director of the group, performer, storyteller you name it) and the other members of the outfit, to the realization that this performance will be their last one. Most are fairly calm about it, and the rest of the plot is made up of their interactions with one another and the ways in which they complete their final show. This presents a perfect venue for Altman's signature style: people talking over one another, unresolved situations, loose ends that are never tied up. In other words: reality.

The last show will be as smooth as the previous ones. We are treated to a wonderful closing of the ranks by everyone concerned and everybody is tops. Performers include the Johnson Sisters (Meryl Streep and Lily Tomlin) as a duo, what's left of a larger family of singers. They both sing surprisingly well, and show that maturity can be attractive.

There's a splendid duo of Woody Harrelson and John C. Reilly as the singing cowboys Dusty and Lefty, whose wit and potty-mouth songs are delightful and must have been largely responsible for the film's PG-13 rating.

There are many other delights, although space does not permit me to list them all. Some come from other fine musical performances within the show, whose All Star Shoe Band is that of Keillor's own radio show. Sometimes (often) they come from the reactions of the characters: the leader is the elegant Kevin Kline, who does wonders with cigarettes (micro-problems) and bumps his head in ways that are how shall I put it? a gentleman's version of slapstick, with small, distant echoes of Inspector Clouseau.

There's more, all of it intelligently and convincingly shot by the talented Ed Lachman (ERIN BROKOVICH, THE VIRGIN SUICIDES, THE LIMEY, MISSISSIPPI MASALA, LONDON KILLS ME, etc.). Note, too, that save for the very beginning and the closing of the movie, everything takes place inside the Fitzgerald Theatre a neat tour de force that enriches the story yet never hints of claustrophobia.

Only two outsiders are added to the cast. Axeman (Tommy Lee Jones in a nearly silent part) is the delegate of the Texas people, here to close the theatre. Virginia Madsen is a beautiful, mysterious woman, clad in pristine white that is unaffected by the weather. She is, no doubt, the delegate of the Gods who are not crazy.

A realistic semi-outsider is Meryl Streep's movie-daughter Lola Johnson (Lindsay Lohan), a young poet who may be manic-depressive. She writes poems about suicide, but when push comes to shove, surprisingly (and nicely) sings in praise of life with much gusto.

A PRAIRIE HOME COMPANION is not a genre film, not a musical in the Hollywood tradition, not a simple tale about the triumph of the will, etc., but a surprising celebration of life and art. The collaboration of Altman and Keillor leads to something unusually original and positive, a feast for all seasons, and for Altman (born in 1925) who only recently revealed that he had a heart transplant 11 years ago a vindication of his very high, worldwide ranking amongst "auteur" filmmakers.

Whether taken as a group or as individuals, all the performers are strong, good-looking, and well above average. This movie is a "must see."