1. Brewster McCloud (1970)
Hot off the monumental success of 'MASH,' what does a director do for an encore? If you're Robert Altman, you make one of the strangest and most defiant studio films of the era. 'Brewster McCloud' is a surreal black comedy about a reclusive boy (Bud Cort)
living in the Houston Astrodome who dreams of building wings to fly. He’s aided by a mysterious guardian angel (Sally Kellerman) as a detective investigates a series of bizarre, bird-related murders. The film baffled both critics and audiences upon release, who were expecting another sprawling, satirical comedy. Instead, they got an allegorical fable that thumbed its nose at convention. It was seen as a commercial bomb and an indulgent mess, but today it plays like Altman's mission statement: a celebration of dreamers, weirdos, and the glorious freedom of failure. It was his first truly 'Altmanesque' film where he had full creative control.
2. Images (1972)
Two years later, Altman swerved again, abandoning ensemble comedy for a claustrophobic psychological thriller. 'Images' stars Susannah York (who won Best Actress at Cannes for the role) as a schizophrenic children's author vacationing in the Irish countryside. The film plunges the viewer directly into her fractured psyche, where reality, memory, and hallucination become indistinguishable. Characters appear, disappear, and transform, leaving the audience as disoriented as the protagonist. This was a stark departure from Altman's typically loose, naturalistic style, employing a more controlled and jagged European art-house aesthetic, drawing comparisons to Ingmar Bergman's 'Persona' and Roman Polanski's 'Repulsion'. While critically noted, the film was too cold and complex for mainstream tastes and quickly faded from view. It remains a chilling and masterful exploration of a mind in collapse, showcasing a completely different, but equally potent, side of Altman's directorial talent.
3. Thieves Like Us (1974)
In a decade defined by iconic crime films, 'Thieves Like Us' got lost in the shuffle. Released the same year as 'The Godfather Part II' and 'Chinatown,' Altman's quiet, melancholic take on the genre never stood a chance commercially. Based on the same novel as Nicholas Ray's 1948 classic 'They Live by Night,' Altman's version strips away the Hollywood romanticism. It follows a trio of small-time bank robbers in Depression-era Mississippi, focusing not on the heists but on the lazy, desperate boredom in between. The central love story between Keith Carradine and Shelley Duvall feels touchingly authentic and unglamorous. Instead of a traditional score, the film's soundtrack is composed entirely of radio broadcasts from the era, immersing you completely in its time and place. It’s a warm, funny, and ultimately heartbreaking film that stands as one of the most authentic portraits of the period.
4. A Perfect Couple (1979)
Even Altman's attempts at a conventional genre felt wonderfully strange. 'A Perfect Couple' is, on its surface, a romantic comedy about two lonely people (Paul Dooley and Marta Heflin) who meet through a video dating service. But this is an Altman rom-com, so the focus is on the messy, imperfect reality. He deliberately cast 'ordinary schlumps' instead of movie stars to ground the story. The film is split between their awkward courtship and the world of her eccentric rock band that lives as a commune. The result is a quirky, music-filled movie that many found tonally inconsistent. The story of the central romance often takes a backseat to extended musical performances by the band 'Keepin' 'em off the Streets'. It was a commercial failure, but its gentle, satirical sympathy for its flawed characters and its casual inclusion of queer relationships make it a uniquely charming and forward-thinking film for its time.
5. Kansas City (1996)
In the midst of his '90s comeback with 'The Player' and 'Short Cuts,' Altman directed this stylish but overlooked jazz-infused crime film. Set in his hometown in 1934, the story involves a Jean Harlow-obsessed wife (Jennifer Jason Leigh) kidnapping the opium-addicted wife (Miranda Richardson) of a powerful politician to force him to save her small-time crook husband. The thin plot, however, is mostly an excuse for Altman to stage a feature-length 'jam session'. He assembled a supergroup of contemporary jazz musicians to play the roles of 1930s legends like Lester Young and Count Basie. The film constantly cuts away from the narrative to long, atmospheric musical performances at the Hey Hey Club. Many critics found the narrative and performances unpleasant and the pacing disjointed, but the film is an evocative love letter to the music and the era, capturing the city's corrupt, vibrant energy with Altman's signature flair.
