"You know what I didn't do today? I didn't vote." – Carolyn StiltonI absolutely hated "Kansas City" upon first viewing. Its pace seemed strange, its flashbacks seemed oddly placed, its camera seemed to dwell on unimportant details and none of its characters seemed to exist to propel any clearly defined story forward. In other words, though I'd seen virtually every other Robert Altman film, "Kansas City" still left me in a state of bewilderment.But as is often the case with Altman, "Kansas City" began to make sense - in so far as Altman desires to make sense; his films seem to embrace a certain chaos - upon second viewing. Filled with loving shots of jazz musicians, the film is itself a jazzy tone poem, Altman coming at the audience from odd angles, asking us to pick up on his shifting rhythms of plot and character, themes of race, politics, violence and money. Consider the subtle juxtapositions Altman weaves into the film...A poor white man (Johnny O'Hara) paints his face black and robs a wealthy black man. Seeking assistance, the black man visits a powerful black crime boss called Seldom Seen. Seldom agrees to help, kidnaps Johnny and kills him.In contrast, Johnny's wife (Blondie O'Hara) kidnaps a wealthy white woman (Carolyn Stilton) while she applies a white beauty mask. Carolyn is married to Henry Stilton, a powerful politician. Blondie wants Henry to negotiate with the crime lord so that she may get her husband back. Blondie is eventually killed by Carolyn Stilton. While this drama is unfolding, other characters enter the mix. A young Charlie Parker, years away from musical fame, finds a pregnant black girl. He takes her to a maternity ward. Meanwhile, we learn that Blondie had her baby aborted because Johnny didn't want kids.Similarly, a poor black cab driver (who helped Johnny stage his robbery) is taken to a back alleyway and killed by Seldom and his gang. In contrast, Henry Stilton's goons kill a white man in broad daylight because he was hampering their efforts to falsify local election ballots.And so on and on it goes, Altman juxtaposing his jazz notes, "Kansas City" less a linear narrative than a series of contrasting sequences or oppositional musical riffs, some obvious, some subtle, but all revolving around class, race and gender. Blackface paint is mirrored to white beauty cream, black crime lords are mirrored to corrupt white politicians, political thugs are mirrored to violent gangsters, abortions are mirrored to pregnancies, loving marriages are mirrored to loveless couples, poverty is mirrored to power, underground gambling joints and brothels are mirrored to above ground poll booths and ballot stations.Blondie O'Hara, the young kidnapper, is herself contrasted with Carolyn Stilton, the woman she kidnaps. Blondie loves her husband and would do anything for him. Mrs Stilton, in contrast, is constantly doped up on opium and has long given up on her marriage. Furthermore, Blondie is constantly emulating Kansas City native Jean Harlow, an actress whom she idolises. This notion of "narrative emulation" is itself intended to mirror the "cutting contests" between the jazz musicians sprinkled throughout the film. Just as the musicians borrow from one another and weave each other's material into what they are improvising, Blondie borrows from the movies and weaves Harlow's tough girl phrases and expressions into her conversation. But Blondie's toughness is all a facade, a suit of armour used to compensate for her petite size and coarse environment. While Blondie gives up her child and is constantly subservient to her husband, it is Carolyn Stilton who possesses true strength. Despite her permanently doped up state, Carolyn constantly gives the impression that she knows more than she's letting on, always absorbing information and assessing her surroundings. Her final line, "I didn't vote", itself lets us know that she has long cut herself off from a venal world which she refuses to legitimize.And so with "Kansas City" - a film which ends with a crime lord counting money in the dark corners of a jazz club - Altman has abstracted the politics of power and persuasion, threat and privilege. Everything in the film hinges on social power, Altman drawing a clean line between those violent people who wield power and all those pathetic dreamers who try to grab it but never succeed in doing so for more than a fleeting moment.The political corruption of the city's democratic machine (the country was built on voting fraud and rigged elections; practises common even today), and the expanding influence of Hollywood (and the power of film to seduce and destroy people such as Blondie), is as important to Altman as the racial segregation that produces Kansas City's two worlds: the white world, dominated by the Stilton's, and the inverted black world of Seldom Seen, a vampiric world of music which seems to only come to life long after the surface world has gone to sleep.The film is also unique in the way it offers jazz music an unprecedented role within the diegetic world. This music is constantly "seeping into" he story, providing a kind of tapestry for the characters to perform against. The result is that the jazz music seems to become intertwined with the very social climate that influences it. Altman himself has said that it was his intention that jazz be the structure of the entire film. Whilst a typical song lasts 3 minutes, a jazz tune lasts as much as 17, the effect being that many of the film's scenes are elongated and purposefully stretched out. "Seldom Seen is like a brass instrument," Altman says, "when it's his turn to solo, he does long monologues and riffs. But the discussions of the two women are like reed instruments, saxophones having duets."8/10 - Best appreciated as a kind of cinematic jazz, the plot lethargically frustrating as it intrigues.

Robert Altman dishes up a terrific serving of jazz and Depression-era atmosphere in this crime thriller with film noir trappings.Jennifer Jason Leigh gives a fascinating and heartbreaking performance as Blondie, the pathetic Jean Harlow wannabe who kidnaps a senator's (Michael Murphy) wife (Miranda Richardson) in an attempt to force him into helping her husband, Johnny (Dermot Mulroney), who's himself been kidnapped by Seldom Seen (Harry Belafonte), a local gangster kingpin, after Johnny tried to pull a heist on one of Seldom's own. The dark plot works its way toward an inevitable and tragic ending, but as is true with many Altman films, what happens isn't as much fun as how it happens. Altman intersperses the film with segments of music being played in a hot jazz club, and the nearly constant soundtrack gives the whole movie the pulse and rhythm of the jazz numbers it's set to.I'm not so sure I liked the performance of Richardson. She plays a woman doped up on opiates, and while I don't know how someone would act in those circumstances, her performance felt cartoonish and exaggerated to me. But Leigh more than makes up for any weak performances, and she owns this film. Blondie is a born loser, a woman who's learned how to act tough from watching movies but who's not nearly tough enough to survive in the world around her. It's with a mixture of pity and relief that we see the film, and Blondie's fate, move toward its "They Shoot Horses, Don't They?" resolution.Grade: A

This unusual film played like a dark, comedic version of Altman's own childhood; he himself describes it (and most of his other films) as a musical. Similar in structure to Miller's Crossing, I found it to be a tribute, perhaps unintentional, to many of the Coen brothers themes; like painting a serious subject with hues of dark comedy that many mistake for badly done straight drama. Jennfer Jason Leigh's performance is very mindful of her performance in the Hudsucker Proxy, and just as worthy; one is decidedly satirical (Hudsucker, and this one is an essential statement of character, as a sadly-going-nowhere Midwestern babe who loves Jean Harlowe and the Hollywood escapism of movies, and spews as best she can in her own tragic "real life". Certainly not Altman's best, but why should it be? It is defining of his articulation on film about music, a face in the crowd tragedy overlooked, and his own fast paced violence that ends life and is over in seconds, unlike his contemporary Sam Peckinpaugh and a thousand other directors. Without the music I would have rated this film a seven or lower, but without the music, West Side Story would be a 5 and South Pacific a 2. This film is haunting in many, many ways, and its muted use of color gives it an appropriately old fashioned 30's look and tone. The most memorable assembly of jazz artists and rifts on film. You can see better films; you'll never hear better jazz.

This is another one of those "intelligent art films" you need to read the review first before you can understand the movie. If it wasn't for the great music and in general wonderful atmosphere created by the director at the Hey-Hey club, this movie would have been a total flop. The storyline is simply ridiculous, it has no meaning, no reason to be. The secondary story even less, we fail to even understand why it is there. The acting is superficial, in some cases exaggerated to the point of being silly (Jason-Leigh). The only remotely positive acting performance (surprisingly) was Belafonte in a not-so-bad copy of Brando's Godfather. The dialog was simply stupid, the only decent characterization was that of Belafonte's seldom Seen which emanated some real emotions, everything else seemed to be on the level of a five-year old. Thank god for the music...!