Entertainment

Director talks about his films, his transplant and the struggle to be surprising

06:03 PM CDT on Thursday, June 8, 2006

By CHRIS VOGNAR / Staff Writer

Robert Altman has been counted out more times than a tomato-can heavyweight, but he's still making strong movies at the age of 81.

His latest is A Prairie Home Companion, a winsome but breezy backstage fiction about the fictional final broadcast of Garrison Keillor's droll radio program.

Mr. Altman called from California recently to discuss life on the Prairie, a life in movies and that surprise announcement at this year's Oscars.

What was Garrison's pitch to get you on board with this? His original idea was to do a Lake Wobegon story. I was in Chicago doing The Company, and we met there. When I finished I went to his show in New Jersey and St. Paul. After seeing it, I called him and said why don't we just do the show? He preferred the other approach, but we settled on doing this.

Had you been a fan of the radio show?

My wife was a big fan, so I heard it for many years through her. I was very aware of it, and I think the guy is a bit of a genius. It's very hard to catch him repeating himself, and I just like his approach and outlook.

Do you see a through line between this movie and some of the other films you've done about show business and music, like 'Nashville' and 'Kansas City'?

Ultimately, they're all different chapters of the same film. That's the way it seems to me. Each one borrows from the one before. That's how it goes.

You've worked with Lily Tomlin several times now. What do you like about her?

Picture House

Robert Altman directed A Prairie Home Companion.

I've known her for a hundred years now. Her first film with me was Nashville , and we've done many things together since. I trust her. It's like your friends, your family, the people you know, the people you meet. You just say, "I like that person," and you seem to be able to connect. Lily's just one of those people I feel very comfortable with. And she always brings something to me that's unusual.

Was the honorary Oscar you received this year important to you?

I was very happy to have it, but I wouldn't say it was important. I didn't think I was going to be able to do it, because I was in London doing a play. When they first called me, I said, "I won't be able to do that." But it worked out. We opened the play on a Friday night in London, and I went to the opening party and got on a plane to Beverly Hills. The next night was the Oscars, and the next day I flew back. It was fun.

How did you come to the decision to talk about your heart transplant on the Oscar telecast?

I had lied to some of my best friends and family about that for a long time. I was afraid at the time that nobody would hire me if they knew. There's such a stigma connected to it. But when this thing came up, it had been almost 11 years, and enough people knew about it that I felt like I should disclose it dramatically.

Do you feel like your approach to filmmaking has changed in the decades since you started?

Filmmaking in general has changed a lot since the '60s, which was when I got into it. I think we've seen everything now. All of these films that have come out in the last five or six years all seem similar to me. There's a pattern. There aren't as many surprises, and I have to deal with that as much as the people who see the films. Nobody really goes to the theaters anymore. They can see everything in their own bedrooms. I don't know where it's leading us.

E-mail cvognar@dallasnews.com