Throughout the long trajectory of his career, Robert Altman was known for interweaving multiple plots and characters within the context of a given theme. Think the brotherhood of the country music community in "Nashville" or the detachment of contemporary California life in "Short Cuts." But in 1999, Altman tried something a bit unique – he directed a motion picture with a plot. One plot. One story. A comparatively small cast of characters. It was called, "Cookie's Fortune," and it's this month's Buried Treasure.With a clever screenplay by Anne Rapp, "Cookie's Fortune" tells the story of Willis (Charles S. Dutton), a handyman wrongly accused of murder in a small Mississippi town. His widowed employer (Patricia Neal) commits suicide at the outset, and her daughters decide to disguise the shooting as a murder in a vain attempt to preserve the family's reputation. Since Willis had just cleaned the widow's guns the night before, his fingerprints are all over them. And there you have the most plot structure you'll ever find in an Altman film.What follows this sullen and morose setup is Altman's funniest picture since "M*A*S*H" in 1970. You see, everyone in the town knows Willis couldn't possibly commit murder. The jailer (a young Chris O'Donnell) consistently leaves the cell door open, and the sheriff (a fantastic Ned Beatty) plays cards with him – in the cell! You see, Beatty's character knows Willis is innocent because, "I've fished with him" – which seems to be his quintessence test for everyone he knows.But, as in every Altman film, there's one character who doesn't quite fit. One who takes things more seriously than the others. Remember how pathetically dangerous Robert Duvall's Major Frank Burns seemed in "M*A*S*H" (as opposed to the maniacal buffoon Larry Linville played on the long-running television series)? It was as though the Major Burns character walked on the set from another movie – just to give the audience a jolt; to let us know this is war, and war is real.In "Cookie's Fortune," Glenn Close plays Camille, the theatrical and mildly deranged daughter of the deceased – a slightly more comical version of her wicked turn in "Fatal Attraction." Camille is the smartest character in the picture, but she's also the one who doesn't belong; the one who, in a panic attack, might just turn this lovable comedy into a dreary exercise in unhinged madness. Fortunately, Altman is a skilled enough director to not allow this to happen, but my does he dangle it closely (pun intended). Had Glenn Close played her role ever so slightly more unsettled, the entire film would have been ruined. Altman walks a fine line allowing Camille to exaggerate her pomposity, but then her function seems to be to remind us that this is murder, and murder is real.Still, Altman never loses sight of the fact that "Cookie's Fortune" is a comedy, dark though it may be. The script is peppered with well-drawn characters, and the acting is first-rate – particularly Ned Beatty as the sheriff, and also Liv Tyler as Camille's desperado niece, whose boyfriend just so happens to be Chris O'Donnell's maladroit jailer. Altman is a master handling these intertwining characters, as he doles out information in small enough doses for us to completely process their connections, and for us to understand the soul of the town in which they regale.Unfortunately, "Cookie's Fortune" was released during the spring doldrums – that period between the Oscars and the summer blockbusters, when the studios trot out the fare they don't think anyone will pay to see. By the time the Oscars rolled around that year, the talk was all about "Magnolia," "American Beauty," "The Cider House Rules," and "The Green Mile." "Cookie's Fortune" was simply a forgotten footnote to American cinema in 1999. And that's a shame. You need to seek out this one. It's funny, touching, and intelligent – and easily one of Robert Altman's ten best films.

Altman should go into retirement, as should Scorsese, and all the other former great directors who waste everyone's time with their new material.This overlong, unfunny near-mess starts off with a half-hour of pure tedium, in a sort of "Driving Miss Daisy" vein; with an old woman and her loyal black friend. Absolutely nothing happens in this part of the movie. I wish it had stayed that way, because once things start happening that is when the movie gets really annoying. (Like Sting's famous song-line: "Life was easy when it was boring", or "This film was easier when it was boring".) The overly familiar plot – already milked dry by the self-copying Hitchcock - of an innocent man accused of murder is just too stupid. It also sinks any chance that the gags and the humour might have; but the jokes are mostly mediocre so it doesn't matter. The other major problem with the movie is the rather "blah" cast: Julianne Moore, Glenn Close, O'Donnell, that "country" singer, and worst of all - Liv Tyler. While Moore is convincing as a semi-retarded woman, Close is simply annoying in yet another wicked-witch-from-the-South role. O'Donnell is typically bland, while Tyler is not only awfully miscast but a bad actress, as well. For Altman to cast her as some white-trash Southern girl is an insane move. Charles Dutton has a very cliché role: he is ultra-kind, pure goodness and is intellectually superior to just about everyone - without feeling that way. And what an annoying plot-point in the kid's father not wanting to listen to what the kid had witnessed. Plus, there is that annoying sporadic schmaltziness that any movie can do without. What a waste of time.

No spoilers here. The movie is about love, deception, "rapscallionality" and other cool things in a small town, with the kind of cinematography we associate with Altman. Pearl is the right term to use for some of Altman's ensemble pieces: they are layers on layers on layers, and they are built up very slowly, just as a pearl grows.I don't admire everything that Altman has done; there are a number of his movies that didn't rock my socks, but when he hits it, he hits it (as with Short Cuts, McCabe and Mrs Miller, and recently with Prairie Home Companion), with scary precision. You sit there in the theater seat feeling as if not just the director, but the whole cast and crew have you in their sights. Part of this has to be due to Altman's working so much with so many of the same actors. But also, he is simply a great ensemble director.Cookie's Fortune starts out in a quite leisurely fashion, and I had to warn some of my friends not to go to a late night show, but it gets quick fast. While I think the whole cast was great, for me the on-going show-stopper was the performances of Glenn Close and Charles Dutton. It was so clear to me that these two actors, both with considerable stage experience, were having a lot of fun chewing up each other's scenery, and their voice control is what one would expect from them.In Altman's best films there are a multitude of small gem parts, and this is no exception.

I absolutely love this movie. The acting was brilliant, and even though the plot primarily revolved around one central character, it was truly an ensemble movie. True, the characters may seem a bit widely drawn to some, but anyone who has spent any time at all in the deep South will have no trouble accepting the eccentricities and logic of the characters. "Because I fished with him" is as good as a surety bond in Mississippi. After you fish with a man you pretty well know what he's made of. I lived for many years outside the town of Holly Springs, and these folks could have been my neighbors. In the South we don't get in a hurry too often; so it's easy to see why a slower moving story might not be to everyone's taste. But anyone who wants to see a little piece of what could be real life in any small Mississippi town would be well served to see Cookie's Fortune at least twice. Once for the story, and once for the atmosphere. It's a real treat on every level.