Synopsis
Sex. Greed. Murder. Some things never go out of style.
During Paris Fashion Week, models, designers and industry hot shots gather to work, mingle, argue and try to seduce one another.
During Paris Fashion Week, models, designers and industry hot shots gather to work, mingle, argue and try to seduce one another.
Marcello Mastroianni Sophia Loren Jean-Pierre Cassel Kim Basinger Chiara Mastroianni Stephen Rea Anouk Aimée Rupert Everett Rossy de Palma Tara Leon Georgianna Robertson Lili Taylor Sally Kellerman Ute Lemper Forest Whitaker Tom Novembre Richard E. Grant Anne Canovas Julia Roberts Tim Robbins Lauren Bacall Lyle Lovett Tracey Ullman Linda Hunt Teri Garr Danny Aiello Jean Rochefort Michel Blanc François Cluzet Show All…
Prêt-à-Porter, 패션쇼, Πρετ-α-πορτέ, Hazır Giyim, Pret a Porter, Prêt-à-porter, Высокая мода, 云裳风暴, Divatdiktátorok, Pret-a-porter, Prêt-a-Porter, משהו ללבוש, Pret-a-Porter, Прет-а-порте, Prét-à-Porter, プレタポルテ, მაღალი მოდა, 雲裳風暴
To watch PRET-A-PORTER is to feel like what it must feel like for people who hate NASHVILLE to watch NASHVILLE.
I quite liked it.
(Peep that cast and tell me you’re not at a little interested.)
One of Robert Altman’s greatest and most misunderstood masterworks, Pret-a-Porter sits alongside Short Cuts, Nashville, and The Player as a definitive assertion of the Altman style—the apologue technique, an overlapping narrative structure that reads as tableau. A distinct approximation for reality with an uncanny sense of irony.
The movie was panned by critics upon release, who took relish in assailing its purported lack of depth. Renowned loser Janet Maslin wrote in the New York Times that the film was “tepid,” “laissaze-faire” and “empty.” Newsweek called it “indefensible.” The Washington Post said it was a “mess.” A critic for the Spectator said “You can’t satirize industries that are self-satirizing.”
Each critic shared the opinion that the fashion industry, unlike that of…
Altman's mid '90s satire on the world of fashion was a rather devastating flop on its release, much criticised for failing to hit its targets or truly appreciating the milieu the filmmaker found himself in. As many fashion insiders said at the time, the reality proved to be more absurd, whilst film critics claimed Altman's attempt to rewrite The Emperor's New Clothes was lacking the necessary bite and all too predictable an affair.
Audiences were clearly expecting something similar to Altman's previous effort, the Hollywood satire, The Player, and they were understandably disappointed when that proved not to be the case. But the man himself had this to say:"The Player had more story - this is a celebration - it’s…
Robert Altman's typically nuanced satire is at its most obvious and lackadaisical here. At least, with Kim Basinger's triumphant salvo near the end, he admits he doesn't get the fashion industry in typical Altmanesque flavor. (Anti-Altman critics who think Altman is a cruel misanthrope [Jonathan Rosenbaum, Dave Kehr, etc.] routinely forget that, in Nashville and its spiritual sequels HealtH and Prêt-à-Porter, the shrill reporter is Altman's alter ego, his way into these foreign worlds. That's the character he's most similar to and he openly admits this. Thus, he is both an astute critic of social behaviors AND an even harsher critic on himself.) His taunting zooms gain a mordancy as he cruelly repeats his sadistic MASH humiliation of Sally Kellerman.…
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Robert Altman's satirical style is clearly a very specific taste that doesn't resonate with many, but despite Pret a Porter being set in the insular world of Parisian high fashion, a world that I know nothing about, the ridiculously huge ensemble cast really landed for me.
But seriously, how a film with seven Oscar winners (Sophia Loren, Julia Roberts, Tim Robbins, Kim Basinger, Forest Whitaker, Linda Hunt and Cher) and nine more Oscar nominees (Stephen Rea, Marcello Mastroianni, Lauren Bacall, Sally Kellerman, Teri Garr, Danny Aiello, Anouk Aimée, Richard E. Grant and Björk) can fail to sweep the awards and make a metric shit tonne of spondoolies along the way is beyond me.
It's hard to pick a favourite performance, but it's Richard E. Grant's Cort Romney that ticks all the boxes. Grant based his style and wild character on designer extraordinaire, Vivienne Westwood and boy does it show. Brilliant.
Ready to Wear. 1994. Directed by Robert Altman.
It’s a who’s who of the Fashion world in Paris (1993 due to filming). The ending makes the entire film enjoyable especially when Chiara Mastroianni takes the microphone from Kim Basinger and takes control like a boss. This is undeniably a like a $100 box of French macarons.
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A big-name cast, an Altman ensemble story and a target as ripe for satire as high fashion ought to spell a pretty delightful time at the movies. Instead, Ready to Wear is only fitfully amusing and it is ultimately a pretty tedious affair. It squanders the talents of its exceptional cast with one-joke characters and labored or obvious plotlines.
Kim Basinger’s over-eager but clueless TV reporter is an initially funny variation on Opal from Nashville, but Altman uses her too much, to unify his typically unwieldy multi-character narrative. Basinger hits that one note perfectly, over and over, almost to step-on-a-rake level but not quite there.
There are glints of what might have been, especially from a hilarious Richard E. Grant…
“Not everyone is going to look like Naomi Campbell” -Cher
condolences to those who don’t consider this a major Altman work
Sprawling. Tedious. Innocuous. And yet, I couldn't look away and was always curious where it was headed, even if where it was headed was a vapid vacuum, perhaps mirroring the fashion world it inhabits, perhaps due to lack of excitement behind the camera. Maybe a bit of both. But I still love watching Altman's lens tiptoe around his hordes of actors. He always blocked a scene to perfection, always gliding the camera inconspicuously as if through a field of land mines. What's missing is the razor sharp editing and satiric character arcs. Usually when he's juggling a huge cast, there's unexpected set ups and pay offs both high and low, but it's lacking here. So is the punchy wit of editing where he would use a cut as a punchline or a comedic beat. There's just a lot of fat around the waist here, in stark contrast with its subject matter.
always thought Popeye was Altman’s weirdest until I sat through 133 minutes of this and 20% of the runtime was people stepping in dog shit
Sound the alarm we got ourselves a "bad altman" alert
If you're going to make a needlessly mean spirited fashion satire, let's keep that under 2 hours.
A misfire from Altman, for sure; feels self-parodic. What bad luck to set a movie on the catwalk during one of the nadirs of fashion. Kim Basinger's attempted accent is a crime against southerners, and she was supposedly born in Georgia?