That Cold Day in the Park, 1969.
Directed by Robert Altman.
Starring Sandy Dennis, Michael Burns and Lauana Anders.
SYNOPSIS:
A lonely middle-aged woman sees a homeless young man sitting in the park opposite her apartment, and in a moment of pity invites him in.
Many would consider the late Robert Altman’s first recognised masterpiece to be the 1970 Palme d’Or winning film MASH – the satirical black war comedy about the Korean war, which was really a subtext on the contemporary Vietnam War – but That Cold Day in the Park was released a year prior, and it’s as tonally as different as one can expect.
Despite Frances’ (Sandy Dennis) affluence she finds no solace or fulfilment; she numbly passes the time by socialising with the elder elite of contemporary society. Upon one such visit from these patrons she looks out her window to see a young homeless man (Michael Burns) sitting on a park bench in the pouring rain. Frances takes pity on him whereas her guests ignorantly dismiss him, and of her concerns, going as far as to announce that he could always just go home. Once Frances’ guests have left, she ignores their derisive comments towards the less fortunate and meets with the young man to invite him in for shelter, a bath, and some food. The young man says nothing to Frances, and he appears to be a mute.
The ham-fisted nature on social class difference makes it a chore to engage with the film initially. With on-the-nose dialogue emphasising the elder’s ignorance of contemporary plight, and Frances’ good-natured middle-aged self – as a pivot between the young and the old –, it will undoubtedly test the patience of its audience to remain with the film after the opening minutes.
Further improbability derives from Burns’ young-man character. A mute who behaves selfishly – before the revelation of his true motivation – would surely test even the most kindred of spirits. Frances does everything to make his time there pleasant, from buying him new clothes to cooking his meals and changing his bedding. The young man simply behaves “odd” as though he’s testing Frances’ loyalty. In short, the lack of clarity in the film’s first act and partway through the second may turn audiences away.
However, the first forty minutes of the film are saved by Sandy Dennis’ brilliant performance and Altman’s filmmaking. Regardless of her wavering accent from her native-American to a part-British and part-Canadian one, Dennis portrays Frances as this pitiful woman who feels trapped by her wealth and her social status, and yearns for a semblance of intimacy with someone closer to her age. In her submissive, maid-like attempts to appease the young man Dennis balances her performance on heart-wrenchingly sympathetic on the one side and pathetic on the other.
Dennis is capable of such a balancing act thanks to Altman’s filmmaking and the cinematography by László Kovács (Ghostbusters, Easy Rider), who in their combined efforts make her isolative existence part-theatrical and part-gritty. The layout of her home is jagged, makes minimal logistical sense (think, somewhat, the Overlook Hotel in The Shining), and is laden with black shadows. This gives Dennis, as well as Michael Burns, the ability to exaggerate a little but always keep one-foot in realism as the setting reflects both factors. Furthermore, Altman’s use of zooms gives the film a mystical quality: Frances and the young man play a drunken game blind man’s bluff late into the night. Frances, playing the blind, is sat on the sofa calling out, and in a pull-out zoom shot it’s revealed the young man has left her. Framed along with snippets of light from the street lamps outside, and left with her antique furniture, Frances comes to the realisation that she may forever be alone. It’s a striking and pitiful moment that when combined with Frances’ performance and the filmmaking talent rests on the fantastical and the real.
The revelation of the young man’s motivations is shown in a blunt, matter-of-fact manner that makes the film’s second half undeniably compelling. His odd behaviour now cruelly makes sense, and makes Frances ever more sympathetic. The audience are privileged to such information that one wonders where their makeshift relationship will lead them. It wisely puts the audience on this uncertain ride as both characters behave increasingly erratic that leads to a horrifying climax.
It’s great to see one of Robert Altman’s overlooked classics finally being released in UK on Blu-Ray. This edition comes with an interview of critic David Thompson who provides a broader history of Altman’s career, and a thorough discussion of this film. That Cold Day in the Park may be improbable, but the performances and the filmmaking choices will make this a rewarding psychological horror-cum-thriller for patient viewers, and/or for Altman aficionado’s.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★
Matthew Lee
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https://youtu.be/b7Ozs5mj5ao?list=PL18yMRIfoszEaHYNDTy5C-cH9Oa2gN5ng
Originally published June 20, 2016. Updated April 14, 2018.
