Nashville by Heather Hendershot is another excellent addition to the BFI Film Classics series. Like the others, it offers both an analysis of the film itself as well as contextualizing it within its own era.

It is often thought of as having been unsuccessful or a flop when released but, as one professor I had decades ago pointed out, it was only unsuccessful based on what was expected. When comparing actual box office it was more middle of the road. This was before every movie was expected to be a "blockbuster" so when a film was expected to do exceptionally well, it stood out if it didn't. That said, I remember at the time being surprised there wasn't more talk among people I knew about what the film did.

Which leads us, of course, to the difficulty in succinctly grasping what the film did. Because no group, political or cultural, was spared everyone could read it from whatever perspective they chose. They could be upset because a group they belong to was lampooned (though most groups were also given some positives) or they could be happy because a group they opposed was likewise lampooned. Unfortunately, for many, they just came away confused and wasn't able to give their friends much reason to go see it. And word of mouth, even now (maybe especially now with social media) word of mouth pushes a film from moderately successful to blockbuster.

Hendershot takes the first part of the book laying the foundation, the political and cultural moment of the making of the film along with how choices were made to inject a certain amount of ambiguity. Then, for 53 of the 92 pages of the text, Hendershot goes through the film day by day (the film takes place over a five day period).

This close look at the film isn't simply a scene-by-scene recounting, it looks at what the impact and various takeaways from each scene and interaction are. We can more easily understand both why the film has always been a critical success while largely confusing to a lot of the viewing public. Like Altman always said, films (like music and literature) should be watched more than once to grasp what is being shown. Just like we sometimes better understand what happened yesterday in our own lives if we replay the previous day's events in our mind.

Like I usually do with books about any art form, I watched the film before reading, then again after. The difference was startling, and these were probably my fourth and fifth viewings, so I didn't come to them as a new viewer. When a book can offer enough insight and new understanding for me to feel the movie was significantly different for me from before and after reading, it was a success.

Highly recommended for anyone with an interest in film and film history, especially anyone interested in the dynamic between social/cultural issues and film. This certainly adds to an understanding of the dynamics of the period but also speaks to how we can view films from the past and think about our current environment.

Reviewed from a copy made available by the publisher via NetGalley.

Cinephiles often forget that Nashville was not a box office success when first released. Heather Hendershot wants to give the film the respect it deserves, and in her critical examination of the film simply entitled, ‘Nashville’ she looks at the production, reception, legacy, and the film itself to understand why ‘Nashville’ is regarded as one of the best American films of the 1970s.

Hendershot situates ‘Nashville’ in Altman's filmography and she pays particular attention to the industrial films and television work he did prior to making it in feature films. She sees many connections between the industrial films and his later independent and Hollywood films. She views his preference for overlapping dialogue and the free-flowing nature of the productions as precursors for films like ‘McCabe and Mrs. Miller’ and ‘Nashville’.

Hendershot goes to great lengths to talk about the politics in the film, and how various politicians react to the film based on their personal and public beliefs. She also highlights how the third party candidate in the film (Hal Philip Walker) has a mixture of both Republican and Democratic talking points. He is not the typical third-party candidate, so Altman ends up skewing both sides. She also details the disagreement that Polly Platt had about the assassination plot development and how she quit because of this story turn. Hendershot makes the point that politics does not have to be about voting for a particular candidate; it can also be disagreeing about the unfair treatment given to a fictional character. Platt stood up for her principles and left the production.

In the end, Hendershot's examination of ‘Nashville’ is an informative and enjoyable look at this fifty-year-old piece of cinematic Americana. It’s a wonderful companion to Altman’s masterpiece.

Director Robert Altman put it best when describing why it’s hard to recommend Nashville (1975) to a friend, even if, like me, you think it’s one of the best movies ever: There’s no shark. There’s no central conflict, no obvious good or bad guys, and no familiar story structure. “What’s it about?” Well. Um. America, I guess? I can’t quite wrap my head around Nashville’s tragic and messy slice of ‘70s life on my own - I would be scared to try, frankly! - but I knew I wanted to celebrate the film’s 50th anniversary somehow. Thanks to NetGalley and publisher Bloomsbury Academic for an ARC in exchange for an honest review, I got to read Heather Hendershot’s new Nashville (BFI Film Classics) monograph in advance and it feels like a celebration! The book comes out October 16th and, with only three chapters and a coda, is a breezy delight; a must-read for anyone with a passing interest in New Hollywood cinema.

Hendershot not only places Nashville within the context of Nixon’s America, New Hollywood cinema, contemporary critical reactions (like Vincent Canby and Pauline Kael’s glowing reviews vs. the film’s more conservative critics), and box office numbers, but also Altman’s filmography. From his work in industrial films in Kansas City to his narrative Hollywood features, like M*A*S*H and McCabe and Mrs. Miller, we see how Altman’s unique background working with low-budgets and amateur actors led to the largely improvised films we now regard as masterpieces. Hendershot concisely defines everything that makes Nashville special, breaking down three ways Altman and screenwriter Joan Tewkesbury’s film differentiates itself from other New Hollywood fare: its lack of narrative formula, its wealth of characters and their “meandering” trajectories, and its exploration of gender dynamics and the exploitation of women. (As much as I love ‘70s cinema for its grit and experimentation, women’s experiences are hardly ever centered in the decade’s film canon.)

With a little more than half the book left after filling us in on Nashville’s historical and cultural context, Hendershot breaks the movie down by characters (there’s even a nifty chart, in case you get confused while trying to differentiate between the two dozen names) and by day, closely following the plot over the course of its five days. But this section of the book never feels like just another drawn out synopsis - the author always offers bits of information that give a scene, a casting decision, or even a glance more meaning than they had before you read the book.

Have you ever read an essay or book and get tired of thinking “Okay, but what does that actually mean? Explain it to me like I’m five”? I have and it’s frustrating! I think one measure of an author’s skill is if they can help readers understand big ideas without pulling out the 50-cent words and muddying the point. Hendershot dives deep into Altman’s filmography and the cultural landscape surrounding Nashville, yet her writing never feels opaque. Her prose is not only full of big ideas - as well as background knowledge and keen observations - but she presents them in a way that anyone can understand and enjoy. I found myself highlighting paragraphs at a time - the book is just that full of trivia, valuable insight, and analysis!

I’ve never tried to express in words why Lily Tomlin watching Keith Carradine sing “I’m Easy” breaks my heart a little or why the ending of Nashville feels both so awful and beautiful, but Hendershot shows me that such depths are possible in film writing. She accurately describes the film as largely cynical and a little hopeful, but I’m only feeling hopeful after reading her book. Anyone who wants to appreciate Nashville in all its complexity - or write about movies in a broader context than “I saw this at the theater last week” - should read and study this little book. (Little in size, not in impact!)