THE LONG GOODBYE

In 1973, director Robert Altman took a swing at bringing the classic noir detective Philip Marlowe to the big screen, and into the 1970s. The Long Goodbye, based on the Raymond Chandler novel of the same name, features Elliott Gould as the iconic gumshoe. Whether or not this outing is a success largely depends on what you’re more a fan of: filmmaking as an art form, or the character of Marlowe himself.

In Chandler’s novels, Marlowe is known for his moral clarity, personal integrity, and an unshakable code of honor.  He always knows what’s right and what’s wrong, regardless of how compromised the world around him becomes.  But when Altman updated Marlowe for the '70s, he also made him a product of that era’s ambiguity and social disillusionment. Suddenly, Marlowe wasn’t quite so black and white.  Unsurprisingly, many longtime fans of the character weren’t thrilled, and the film’s box office reception was lukewarm.

Altman’s Marlowe, embodied by Gould, is a chain-smoking, perpetually rumpled loner who seems out of place no matter where he is.  That sense of displacement is emphasized by Altman’s visual choices: Gould is often filmed through windows, doorways, or reflections, making him seem like he’s never really part of the world he’s moving through. This version of Marlowe lacks the hard-edged confidence traditional noir heroes are known for. Instead, he’s observational, calm, and often wry, even in situations that would send most people spiraling. He’s not as anchored in his moral compass as fans might expect, and that shift can be jarring.

But where the film deviates from expectations, it also excels in craft.  The cinematography is outstanding, showcasing 1970s Los Angeles in all its hazy, sun-bleached glory.  Marlowe’s apartment, complete with private elevator, in the Hollywood Hills is pure cinematic eye candy.  The film relies on minimal lighting, keeping the tone moody and dreamlike from start to finish. And the camera never quite sits still, mirroring Marlowe’s disoriented, drifting presence.  Often, the lens focuses on things totally unrelated to the characters or dialogue, an Altman hallmark that adds to the feeling that everything is just slightly... off.

Another fun touch was the repeated use of the film’s theme song, “The Long Goodbye,” composed by the iconic John Williams. It first appears in the opening credits, sung by Jack Sheldon, a voice my generation will immediately recognize from Schoolhouse Rock classics like “Conjunction Junction” and “I’m Just a Bill.”  Williams weaves the tune into the movie in clever, unexpected ways: as elevator music, a doorbell chime, and even a mariachi rendition when Marlowe travels to Mexico.

Yes, the film plays loose with the character of Marlowe, but The Long Goodbye is still a deeply satisfying and enjoyable watch. The plot takes a backseat to mood and characterization, and that’s not a bad thing. After all, it’s a detective story. We know Marlowe’s going to solve the mystery; it’s how he does it that makes the ride worthwhile.

For me, this Altman venture is a solid A-.