CALIFORNIA SPLIT

Robert Altman's California Split is another triumph in his unique brand of filmmaking, one that thrives on character over plot and the nuances of human behavior over dramatic story arcs.  Released in 1974, the film is a quintessential example of Altman's improvisational style and his ability to drop viewers into fully realized worlds without conventional exposition.

The story centers on two men, Bill Denny (George Segal) and Charlie Waters (Elliott Gould), who form a bond through their shared love of gambling.  Bill is a magazine writer with a steady life, but when he crosses paths with the charmingly chaotic Charlie, who lives with two sex workers and chases action wherever he can find it, his stable world begins to unravel. What begins as a casual indulgence quickly evolves into something far more consuming as Bill becomes increasingly drawn to Charlie’s lifestyle.

Altman’s genius lies in his refusal to over-explain. We meet the characters in motion, without backstories or context, learning about them solely through their actions, conversations, and choices.  It’s a cinematic approach that feels authentic and unscripted, perfectly suited to the chaotic world of compulsive gambling that the film portrays.

Ann Prentiss and Gwen Welles give delightful performances as Barbara and Susan, Charlie’s roommates.  Their characters could easily have been flat stereotypes, but under Altman’s direction, they come across as vivid and layered.  Prentiss’ Barbara is pragmatic and nurturing, while Welles’ Susan is open-hearted and emotionally vulnerable. Their presence adds warmth and texture to the film's otherwise male-dominated landscape.

A unique aspect of California Split is its use of ambient sound and overlapping dialogue, which became an Altman trademark.  The film’s soundscape, populated with the murmur of poker games, racing calls, and lounge singers, creates a world that feels lived-in and authentic.  The background extras, many of whom never speak, are rich with character, adding to the atmosphere in subtle yet effective ways.

While marketed as a comedy, California Split never shies away from the darker implications of gambling addiction.  However, Altman handles the subject with a light, observational touch, avoiding moral judgment or melodrama. The film neither condemns nor glorifies its characters; it simply follows them with curiosity and empathy.

True to Altman's form, the ending offers no easy answers.  Bill begins the film searching for something, perhaps purpose, excitement, or escape, and by the end, while much has changed, that emptiness lingers. The resolution is deliberately ambiguous, leaving viewers to reflect on what, if anything, has been gained.

California Split is not just a movie about gambling; it’s a study of bromance, compulsion, and the quiet desperation that often hides beneath laughter.  This is a true gem in Altman’s filmography and, like his next release, Nashville, a fascinating time capsule of 1970s Americana.