We don’t often commemorate amid our regular editorial coverage the deaths of national artists, entertainers, and other personalities who figure prominently in the public eye. We don’t for a number of reasons, including considerations of timeliness and the realization that our readers seek us out for much else before they do breaking news. (To give you some idea, we only recently got the green light on giving the blog thing a whirl.)
This is an extension of our identity as a community publication: “If it’s important to Austin, it’s in the Chronicle,” etc., that sort of thing. But when it comes to the director Robert Altman, who died at 81 on Monday, Nov. 20, in Los Angeles, we believe his importance to this part of the country as a filmmaker to study (and steal from) and, more broadly, as a politically informed creative spirit, merits mention here. There’s also the fact that the Texas screenwriter and industry stalwart Anne Rapp was an Altman collaborator on Cookie’s Fortune and Dr. T and the Women, not to mention a friend. Finally, his body of work means a lot to many of us at the Chronicle, and, if you’re reading this, it probably means a lot to you.
What follows is an excerpt from Marc Savlov‘s prescient Oct. 6, 2000, interview with Altman. For the full transcript, see “Altman Speaks!” For Marjorie Baumgarten‘s Oct. 8, 1999, interview with Rapp, see “Anne Rapp’s Fortune.” Also, see what Louis Black has to say in “Page Two,” and find a wealth of well-chosen links at one of our favorite sites, David Hudson‘s GreenCine Daily (daily.greencine.com). 
Austin Chronicle: Film and politics and the collision of the two to create some weird, surreal entertainment seems to be the order of the day.
Robert Altman: Hell yeah. But that shouldn’t be the way it is. What I’d like to know is why it’s the big deal about everybody having to know how much a piece of supposed art, or faux art, costs? And how much it made the third day, and the fourth day, and so on. What is all that about? What does that have to do with anything at all? Because all of this is run by accountants now, that’s language and information that accountants can understand, see? So they get out there with that stuff, and it’s just the wrong information. But, you know, I don’t think anything’s going to change. If anything changes it’ll be through attrition. One day they’re going to wake up and nobody’s going to come to their movies. What are they going to do then? It could be real bad for them.
AC: Any thoughts on the digital video revolution that’s going on these days? Is it possible to have the door open too wide, where everyone with the urge can suddenly make a marginally presentable film or video and have it seen – via the Internet – by virtually the whole world? I’m thinking of a plague of Ed Woods here.
RA: That’s great! Why do we have to make it so complicated in the first place? It’s a goddamn shame. Plus, these new things open up the competition to a lot more people. The cost of making films has become extraordinary, and the studios are going to keep it that way so that you have to go through them to get it done. They’re gonna get caught, though. They’re gonna wake up someday, and nobody will be there. I can’t wait. I hope I’m alive when that happens.
AC: What’s the most important thing a filmmaker can do?
RA: [long pause] Protect his art. And do his film. And that’s about it. Just get up, and go to work in the morning, and follow the muse.
This article appears in November 24 • 2006.