Robert Altman’s A Perfect Couple opens on a series of nested boxes, their scope revealed by a gradually ascending crane shot, eventually surveying a diorama-esque assortment of twinned units. Seated for a Los Angeles Philharmonic performance at the Hollywood Bowl, the couples picnicking in these boxes are exhibited in fishbowl form, establishing a quick précis of the contradictions the film will encompass, the seating fancy but uncomfortable, intimate but public, at leisure while resolutely on display. This Tati-esque flourish also hints at a running motif of alienation, the ordered arrangement matched by the plot device of a videotape dating service, through which lost souls seek love and fulfillment. A romcom with a cynical, sardonic bent, it acknowledges the reality of most love not as a neat uniting of two humans forged by pure kismet, but a semi-mechanistic process of paired dysfunctions meshing together, one that’s equally dependent on chance.
The couple in question is formed by Alex Theodopoulos (Altman regular Paul Dooley, hastily ethnicized with a dark pencil mustache) and Sheila Shea (Broadway star Marta Heflin), seeming opposites trapped in equally stifling circumstances. He’s the would-be scion of an extended Greek family, owners of a sizable furniture business who all occupy the same ornate mansion, a baroque setup confirmed by the domination of stern patriarch Panos (Titos Vandis), who forces the rest of the clan to watch him do mock orchestral conducting. She’s in thrall to the responsibilities of her workaholic rock band, which doubles as a personality cult for its demanding leader Teddy (Ted Neely, the Jesus Christ Superstar himself, in another bit of sly meta casting). Sharing a commercially-focused, post-hippie commune, arrayed around a sprawling loft apartment, the band’s uncomfortable entanglement of business and family mirrors Teddy’s situation, while also laying the groundwork for an escalating series of comic mishaps.
Their first date finds them nestled within that network of similarly paired couples, striving to strike some spark of connection, before a sudden rainstorm disrupts the performance, sending everyone scattering. This mass scramble segues into an extended sequence of physical comedy that expands upon the dynamic established on the brief date, Alex’s persistence barreling through a series of hurdles that he might be wiser not to cross, so invested in being gentlemanly that he’s oblivious to Sheila’s reticence. This continues beyond the date, until a comic instance of violence finally bonds her to her indefatigable suitor, the onrush of malfunctions and complications escalating as they now struggle together to find some time to themselves.
Anarchic but systematically constructed, A Perfect Couple represents an advancement in the signature Altman style, streamlined down to a bouncy love story with distinctly rough edges. Prefiguring Albert Brooks’ Modern Romance by a couple of years, it beats out a similar trajectory, leading to a theoretically joyous conclusion that seems less like true devotion than a mutual wearing down of both parties’ resistance. Altman has long been noted as a heavy influence for Paul Thomas Anderson, but the link between the two isn’t always easy to identify, especially considering the younger filmmaker’s sense of precision. This film, however, presents a strong stylistic bridge to work like Licorice Pizza and Punch Drunk Love, with two oddballs falling into a fitting circumstance for connection to develop, even if they aren’t inherently perfect for each other. The chorus of Barry’s belittling sisters in the latter are here prefigured by Alex’s strict Greek family, along with other subversive touches that disrupt both the orderly flow of the narrative and its attendant promise of romantic bliss.
Altman’s typical refusal to settle into routine genre formula sets the stage for a relatively direct narrative whose formal side is speckled with visual rhymes, doublings and motifs. The stagings are creative, often pointing toward sly visual jokes, and the travails of both parties remain as much grounds for fun as they are dramatic fodder. Intercut with musical performances, A Perfect Couple retains the extravaganza atmosphere of something like Nashville, its frames packed and bustling, with a constant suggestion of further activity lurking around the fringes.
Key among these is the titular “perfect couple”, an older pair of lovers who keep showing up in the same locations as the principals, pantomiming the rituals of idealized romance as Alex and Sheila flounder in their attempts. This showy spectacle reads as both overt crabbiness at performative displays of uxorious affection, and a condemnation of those passing rotely through the motions of love, one that grows increasingly sinister as the film progresses. Eventually their perfection sours, an outcome that points either to the future for our leads, whose connection at times feels only tied together by the rigors of the form, or the idea that a relationship whose surface qualities are prioritized over its internal foundation will eventually crumble.
A Perfect Couple also features good lead performances from two actors who didn’t get many chances to play lead, although Heflin at times looks a bit catatonic, especially when singing on stage. This may be a built-in part of the role, further underscoring the cultish vibes of her would-be family band, and is only one of the questions that remains swirling around this section of the movie. The other prominent one is whether the group, called “Keepin’ Em Off the Streets”, which ticks basically every box of the treacly, bombastic soft rock of this era, is supposed to sound as horrible as it now does. Mostly made up of musical theater performers, its songs are tight, befitting the grueling practice schedule, but the actual material and presentation are so cheesy that it seems like a parody of ‘70s excess beamed back from the present day. That this element proves so hard to read actually contributes to the film’s strengths, adding to the sense of off-kilter discomfort that radiates out from the core relationship.
In the end, A Perfect Couple isn’t a total success. A final attempt at a synthesis of two dueling lifestyles, with his staid classical leanings matching her boho rocker style in a closing performance, doesn’t fully come off, attempting to reach a plane of transcendence that doesn’t square with the rest of the movie. But this big closer does typify the overall initiative of an interesting, ultimately influential experiment in skewing the romance melodrama form. Romcom conclusions rarely make total sense, the paramount status of the happy ending pushing out all other potential outcomes, and at least this one is as weird, enthusiastic and hopeful as the misfits it pushes to the center of its frame.
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