IMAGES 1972

At one time or another, everyone has had the experience of waking from a dream feeling, even if only for a second, as though the dream were real. Recently I had one of those dreams where you see yourself, as if in real-time, sleeping in bed, conscious of being asleep and dreaming, yet at the same time aware of being awake, outside of the body, and observing. The way these varied states of consciousness peel away only to reveal other, hidden states of consciousness, each with a psychological validity that crosses over into reality, is like the chimerical equivalent of a Russian nesting doll. It all happens very swiftly, fleetingly in fact, yet while it’s happening, you harbor a tiny fear in your heart that it’s a tossup as to which of these realities is authentic.

This inability to discern what is real and what is imagined is at the core of Robert Altman’s dreamy, trippy, intriguingly abstruse psychological thriller Images. A movie that takes the fluid dreamscape logic of 3 Women, crosses it with the volatile psychosexual menace of That Cold Day in the Park, and adds to it all the schizophrenic character-study subjectivity of Roman Polanski’s Repulsion.

Susannah York as Cathryn

As with Catherine Deneuve’s Carol in Repulsion, when we first meet Susannah York’s Cathryn, she is a woman already deep in the throes of mental illness. Cathryn is a schizophrenic, a fact she appears to be at least subtly aware of (or at least suspects) on some level. Married to her waggish businessman husband Hugh (Rene Auberjonois), the rather solemn Cathryn spends a great deal of her time isolated, as she is an author working on a children’s book.
Altman incorporated In Search of Unicorns, a children’s book Susannah York was writing at the time, into the screenplay of Images. Published in 1973, York’s somewhat euphuistic fairy tale so perfectly suits the dreamlike tone of Images, it’s hard to believe it wasn't written expressly for the film. Moreover, York’s melodious voiceover narration of passages from the book provides an appropriately cryptic counterpoint to the action.

As Cathryn endeavors to patch together the narrative fragments of her children’s fantasy, she engages in lengthy inner monologues that cull forth shadowy images of her past. A vague and disjointed puzzle of images, sounds, and memories from her past that intrude abruptly and randomly upon her present.

Rene Auberjonois as Hugh
Mirrors, lenses, and prisms are a motif Altman employs throughout Images to convey Cathryn's fractured reality 

Cathryn is a woman haunted. Haunted by past infidelities (lovers, both dead and alive, have a nagging way of reappearing, attempting to resume their dalliances); guilt (she vacillates between being both desirous and fearful of having a child); suspicion (she assigns her own deceitful behavior to her husband); and specifically, the unwelcome, ever-encroaching memories of a lonely childhood. Memories, for reasons left unexplained, she struggles to suppress. We’re never explicitly told what is ailing Cathryn, nor is it clear what has recently occurred to accelerate the frequency and intensity of her schizophrenic episodes. What is apparent is that her illness—one the film's subjective POV makes us privy to alone—takes the form of a mercurially shifting reality which, at times, appears to be conspiring to betray her.

Dream Lover
Cathryn's former lover, Rene (Marcel Bozzuffi of The French Connection), reappears after having died in a plane crash three years prior

Although I desperately wanted to see this when it was released in 1972, I was just 14 years old, and Images was an R-rated movie playing at one of San Francisco’s “art house” cinemas. A theater, I might add, whose policies regarding underage attendance were not as flexible as those of my trusty neighborhood moviehouse, thus necessitating many attempts on my part to persuade apathetic family members (or mature-looking friends) to accompany me. In spite of the thriller being promoted with a very eye-catching poster featuring dual Susannah Yorks reflected in the lens of a vintage bellows camera stabbed by a butcher knife (see below), I found not a single taker. So I only got around to seeing Images at a revival theater sometime in the '80s.

Happily, thanks to Susannah York’s brilliantly restless performance; Vilmos Zsigmond’s (Heaven’s Gate) lush and evocative cinematography; the unsettling musical score by John Williams (with Stomu Yamashta); and especially the film’s stylistic similarities to the work of Roman Polanski, Images became an instant favorite that was more than worth the wait.

Fans of Robert Altman will recognize actor Hugh Millais as the bounty hunter in McCabe & Mrs. Miller. Here he plays Cathryn's libidinous neighbor and former lover, Marcel

WHAT I LOVE ABOUT THIS FILM

Few things are more dismal than watching a film that thoroughly explains, spells out, and underlines (with italics) each plot point and narrative twist that you’re left with nothing to ruminate or talk about afterward. While that's a point that can be made about many of the movies-by-market-research released these days, no one could ever say that about a Robert Altman film.

In Images, Altman takes the very intriguing tack of asking us to exclusively share the increasingly fragmented perspective of a schizophrenic. A choice whose not-unexpected effect on the viewer is a mounting sense of disorientation and unease as it dawns that the story's entirety is to be told by a disturbingly unreliable narrator.

Cathryn Harrison as Susannah (Marcel's daughter)
Images plays fast and loose with the audience's reality as well. Each of the characters in the film shares the real-life name of one of the actors (Susannah, Rene, Cathryn, Hugh, and Marcel)

And therein lies the beauty of this film for me. As it grows ever more apparent that Cathryn is losing her grip on sanity, Images becomes a thriller that actively engages and challenges you to piece together the puzzle of the character's life and the film's story. Reality and hallucination merge imperceptibly without benefit of the usual clichéd cinema vocabulary indicators of dissolves, soft focus, echoes, or slow-motion; so a great deal of the veracity of what occurs is continually called into question.
Altman understands that no two people see or experience life exactly the same way, so he doesn't waste time trying to explain his personal point of view in his movies. Instead, he tells his story, then leaves it to each of us to make of it what we will. Even his brilliant DVD commentaries fail to "explain" things for the moviegoer craving answers. Altman is a director who would rather you actively watch one of his films and fully misunderstand it, than to passively sit and be spoon-fed every detail and theme. 

Images is one of those films that reveal more details each time you watch it.
In this scene, Cathryn works on a puzzle with Susannah, the daughter of a former lover. The single POV shot shared by the two individuals - Cathryn's adult hand occupying the left of the frame, Susannah's smaller hand on the right -  hints at the possibility of Cathryn actually working the puzzle alone, sharing the moment with a hallucination of herself as a young girl. Even the subject of the puzzle is suspect, as Cathryn continually says that she has no idea what the image is, yet we know for a fact that it is a puzzle of the very house she is occupying...the house she spent a great deal of time alone in as a child.

To clarify, I’m no fan of the sort of studied incoherence that put David Lynch on the map (and removed him just as swiftly). But I do love movies that demand your attention on first viewing, offer plenty of food for thought after, and later reward repeat viewings with heretofore undiscovered pieces of the puzzle…all laid out for you to find at your leisure should you just care to look. Such films hold the potential for each revisit to feel like a fresh experience.

PERFORMANCES

It’s been widely reported (and corroborated on the DVD commentary) that due to recent news of her pregnancy and concerns about the film’s script, Susannah York wasn’t all that keen on appearing in Images. But if York’s performance is the work of a woman ambivalent about the film she appears in, her years studying at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts were clearly well-spent. Without resorting to ostentatious tics, gestures, and histrionic displays of madness, York inhabits her character to a chilling degree. Never for a moment are you in doubt that you are watching a fully fleshed-out individual, a character comprised of intelligence, imagination, and inner life. All of these, under the circumstances of her character's internal disintegration, convey a certain sadness as we observe a personality slowly submerged by mental illness. 

Cathryn continually confronts images of herself, whether reflected, remembered, or hallucinatory 

Where York particularly excels is in conveying, without words, the vast array of emotions attendant to discovering one’s mind is operating independent of one’s will. Images compels in giving the distinct impression that something Cathryn has likely been successful in keeping a lid on for some time, is now starting to slip through her fingers. Susannah York shows the panic, confusion, danger, and even the humor in Cathryn’s loss of psychological ground. Small wonder that York won the Best Actress award at the 1972 Cannes Film Festival for her work in Images.

THE STUFF OF FANTASY

I'm not sure why, but for as long as I can remember, I have been fascinated by movies dealing with the concept of duality. From Vertigo, Dead Ringers, Don't Look Now, The Tenant, Persona, and of course, 3 Women; so many of my favorite films are psychological thrillers in which the duality of human nature and the fluid quality of reality play a part.  

I'm still one of those who find the inner workings of the human psyche to be a far more terrifying landscape than anything that can be dreamed up by the gore-mongers making horror films today, so I personally consider Altman's Images to be an excellent thriller that effectively packs on the atmospheric dread and character-based tension. The environment Altman designs for his film is one loaded with reflective surfaces, shadowy corners, and interiors comprised of a Caligari-like assemblage of stairs, railings, rooms, and angled archways. Add to this the near-constant tinkle of wind chimes and an eerily deceptive (subjective) soundtrack, and you've got a thriller worthy of both Roman Polanski and Alfred Hitchcock.

Psycho 

THE STUFF OF DREAMS

The best movies are journeys. Journeys that transport us to other lives, other times, other lands, and, in the case of Images, other states of consciousness. Because the written word can so perfectly capture the subtleties of thought and emotion, and music is ideal for the conveyance of mood and feeling, what I have always loved about movies is how they can make real the fantastic. To render in corporeal terms, the dream /nightmare phase of existence where reality and illusion converge in ways that are not always easy to put into words. 

Hidden Behind Her Back
The threat of violence, unexpected and sudden, runs throughout Images

One can describe, academically and emotionally, what schizophrenia must be like, but in Images, Robert Altman finds a visual language capable of conveying a psychological frame of mind. Miraculously, seamlessly, Altman captures a state most of us only know through dreaming: the helpless, floating feeling of reality and fantasy existing as one, with our inability to discern where reality ends, and fantasy begins. The nightmare, of course, would be to have this be our awake, conscious state. Images brings this nightmare to life in a way refreshingly naturalistic and devoid of melodrama.
Even if you're left unpersuaded by the film as a genre thriller, you can't help but admire Altman's ability to take you inside the consciousness of another person, allowing for the vicarious experiencing of the real world through an entirely alien perspective. Although not one of Robert Altman's most discussed films, Images is a favorite of mine. One that fits neatly into his catalog of character studies of women on the verge.  

Who's watching whom?

'TIS A PUZZLEMENT- Piecing together the fragments

The wind chimes signaling a schizophrenic episode.

Elements of Cathryn's life can be gleaned from the "monologues" she shares with hallucinated others.

Note the address of Hugh's liaison given to her by a well-meaning "friend."

Note the soundtrack whenever Cathryn is using the phone  (Dial tones? Busy signals? Voices?)

Susannah's history/Cathryn's history.

Archie, the dog.

Malevolence perceived in everyday objects.

Windows or mirrors? Any difference?

I think it was either Roger Ebert or Pauline Kael who suggested interpolating the word "You" during several conversations where Cathryn references her husband "Hugh."

Copyright © Ken Anderson   2009 - 2013