In the final scene in Nashville, a homegrown truly American masterpiece, the ditzy hopeful singer Albuquerque, played by Barbara Harris, who has been haunting the periphery of the film, staggering around in her skimpy clothes, waiting for her shot at the big time, finally gets her moment. The film ends with her. It is one of the great scenes in American film, and Altman – who tended to find his films as he shot them – knew that he had found his ending, found the scene that would continue on through the credits roll. You may think all along that Albuquerque is silly, or delusional, or maybe just a starry-eyed floozy. It doesn’t seem like she could be a “player” at all among the Nashville elite. But when her “chance” appears … she’s ready. I have goosebumps just thinking about the scene, and what she does with it. Albuquerque’s moment in the spotlight is not an unadulterated triumph. Nothing in an Altman film could be. His view was too jaundiced and cynical for that. But he countered that attitude with love and curiosity about the characters, about the actors, about people in general. His “attitude” towards Albuquerque could have been cruel. In a less sensitive filmmaker, she would have been used as a joke, as a symbol for all the delusional singer wannabes who bomb out in their American Idol audition, and think they sound awesome. Instead, she emerges as a courageous hero.
It could be argued that Harris’ stage work was far more important and influential than any film she did. People talk about seeing her on Broadway – and here it is 50 years later and they still remember the impact of seeing her live. It’s amazing. I am sorrowful I never got to have that experience. Well-known to audiences mostly from the original Freaky Friday, she also was amazing in Family Plot, Who Is Harry Kellerman and Why Is He Saying Those Terrible Things About Me? , and Plaza Suite. Nashville gave her an epic scope in which to do her thing, and she rose to the occasion. Her final credit was 20 years ago in Grosse Pointe Blank.
Harris emerged out of the brand-new (at the time) improvisation sketch-comedy scene. A contemporary of Mike Nichols and Elaine May (they were all in an improv troupe together), Harris made her real splash in theatre, appearing on Broadway in On a Clear Day You Can See Forever, Oh Dad Poor Dad, Mother Courage, and 1967’s The Apple Tree, for which she won the Tony Award.
She was a lifetime member of the Actors Studio.
But the first thing I thought of when I heard of her passing was that final scene in Nashville. Not only does her character get a long-delayed pay off, what she does in that scene is the payoff for the film entire. That’s not a job for an amateur. That’s a job for an actress who can BRING IT, and Harris did.
Gorgeous tribute Sheila ❤️
Thank you my friend.
So glad you did this. When I saw an obit this morning I came right here, because it described her as the mom in Freaky Friday. I thought, wait, that can’t be my Barbara Harris, because… Seriously, who writes those things? Anyway, great.
I am fairly certain that Freaky Friday was the first thing I saw her in when I was like 7 or whatever. Nashville came later. Blew me away. She really didn’t make all that many movies – onstage she was an A-list star – I love that she spent the last decades teaching acting. Beautiful. She loved acting, not fame.
I did know she was primarily a stage actress. I was just annoyed that most obits mentioned only Freaky Friday. I remember her chiefly for A Thousand Clowns–super stagy movie, but loved it. Every time I see Barry Gordon in something, I flash back.
Yeah, pulling out Freaky Friday for the headline is kind of like, “RIP Helen Hayes, star of Herbie the Love Bug”!
I love your tribute, Sheila.
Barbara Harris was indeed great in “Nashville” and “Freaky Friday.” Another role in which she showed her great talent was that of Ellie in “The Seduction of Joe Tynan.”
The title character was played by Alan Alda, who wrote the screenplay. It featured Rip Torn and a young Meryl Streep, who was just starting to taste fame after her appearance in “The Deer Hunter.” That Harris wasn’t “lost in the sauce” is indeed an accomplishment. More important, though, she made Ellie, the cheated-on wife of Joe, more than a mere victim.
Justine – oh man yes Joe Tynan! I saw that years ago when I was in a serious Streep phase and sought out everything she did before she came on my radar. I loved that movie and Barbara Harris was wonderful in it.
She was also wonderful in the film of “A Thousand Clowns” with Jason Robards and Barry Gordon.
I need to watch that one again.
Oh thanks for posting that. The final scene in Nashville is so damn moving, and Harris’ acting and singing brings so much of it together. It must have been tempting to have the song belted out, strong and on-key, but it’s a hot mess and everyone gets with it because, well…
There are so many confused, lost people in the crowd shots, and the music, the song just grows and the movie has no contempt at all for anyone. I just watched the last five minutes or so, and now I’m all teary with loss an beauty and it’s all nothing anyway and oh damn.
Anyway. Thanks, seriously.
// There are so many confused, lost people in the crowd shots, and the music, the song just grows and the movie has no contempt at all for anyone. //
Elliott that’s a gorgeous way to put it. There really is no other scene quite like it in American film (or any film really).
Right. There may not be anything like it. Finally the camera tilts up to the clouds and really, if you aren’t moved to tears, you aren’t seeing. It’s amazing, given how loose the movie seems, that all the threads are tied off in that last scene, and what’s left is this astounding togetherness, and also nothingness.
I always wonder “How … how … did he do this?” And you read the stories of the shooting, and of his concept and how he worked … but there’s still something missing – I suppose genius, or attitude, or Altman’s Altman-ness … You can’t really follow his lead. Or, you can … but his outlook is singular.
It’s amazing that he can put together the films he did with the footage he had. I’d love to see his outtakes. To get back to the post topic, great actors given free reign has a _lot_ to do with it.
I wondered yesterday if the backup singers knew the song when the shooting started on that Nashville finale.
I love the whole story about the crazy traffic jam. I am pretty sure that was just this random thing that happened when Joan T went there – and she was telling Altman about it – and it has nothing to do with Nashville, really, the city – but he was so taken with it it became his whole opening. and it’s such a great opening. You’re introduced to like 30 characters in one crowded stretch of highway.
But yeah, that random kind of way of working … it seems you have to have a knack for it, you have to want to go where the wind takes you … He really trusted his instincts. It’s really quite uncanny!
I’m so glad you led off with the Nashville performance, because… well, you said everything that needs to be said about it. So profoundly great. And her stage work, which I know only from cast recordings and the snips of video (doing her Apple Tree performance on the Tony Awards show, this collage of On a Clear Day songs. And any number of film performances, among which I treasure one from when she was semi-retired, her brief role in Peggy Sue Got Married, when her time-traveling adult daughter can’t stop marveling over how young her mother was, and she never noticed at the time.
Rinaldo – it’s funny, a lot of people were mentioning Peggy Sue Got Married – I saw that in the theatre when it came out and never saw it again. But I remember her – I remember very well the moment you mention.
Thanks for the collage of clips – I will check it out.
A really unique career. One of my favorite kinds of careers. She had her head on straight. She really did it all, if you look at it.