Ill-Informed Gadfly

A common thread among the many appreciations of Robert Altman written after his death was that even when he misfired, he was interesting. That’s true, but more and more I think there weren’t as many misfires as he was typically blamed for. Consider one of his least-revered titles: “A Perfect Couple,” a romantic comedy from 1979, generally considered part of Altman’s fallow period. It’s no masterpiece, for sure; it’s draggy and, for Altman, oddly schematic at times, but it has plenty of intelligence, charm and verve. Interviewed for the DVD, released last year, Altman said the movie emerged from ideas that were floating around in his “backyard” — mainly, he wanted to film a romance between schlubby-looking, regular people. Into that he incorporated the music of Keeping ‘Em Off the Streets, a bloated band made up of out-of-work actors and musicians that was launched by his frequent collaborator, Allan Nicholls, who cowrote the screenplay for “A Perfect Couple.”

The premise is perhaps a bit too neat: Alex Theodopoulos (Paul Dooley) and Sheila Shea (Marta Heflin) are matched up by a primitive computer dating service, in which customers watch videotapes of their prospective mates. Both are imprisoned by their families: Alex is part of an old-fashioned, suffocatingly close, antique-dealing Greek clan that adores classical music; and Sheila has her ragtag, incestuous adopted family — the band, Keeping ‘Em Off the Streets, most of which lives together in a sprawling downtown L.A. loft. (Wary of scaring Alex off, Sheila nervously changes the subject whenever the subject of her roommates — who they are, how many she has — comes up.) Their first date is a disaster, with an outdoor performance by the L.A. Philharmonic ruined by a thunderstorm. Their second date is even worse. And yet the doughy, hangdog Dooley and the willowy, birdlike Heflin — an obvious physical mismatch — are able to suggest a budding chemistry. There’s something painful but delightful about watching Alex insist on walking Sheila first to her door, then to her elevator, then up the elevator, and then, when she finally thinks she’s gotten rid of him, leaning to steal a kiss — one that Sheila, improbably, appears to enjoy. As you’d expect from Altman, “A Perfect Couple” doesn’t go for conventional one-liners: the humor is dry, discomfiting and sometimes absurdist, but there are big laughs to be had. Altman is never overemphatic: He lets you discover his movies yourself, and more often than not you’re rewarded for the search. There’s a great signature Altman touch: He weaves in wordless appearances by a gallant, grey-haired gentleman and his elegant companion, a couple that appears cocooned in romantic bliss. You may wonder which is the real perfect couple, and Altman’s answer is typically sardonic.

“A Perfect Couple” features nearly wall-to-wall music, contrasting classical with what could generically be called late-70s soft rock. Keeping ‘Em Off the Streets, though, doesn’t quite conform to that label. Its music is raucous, inclusive and enjoyably off-the-cuff. The lyrics tend toward the silly and bombastic but have moments of eloquence, and Altman’s skill at using songs — and the context in which they are performed — to comment on the action is nonpareil.

It’s great to see Dooley, with his regular-guy face and physique, as an ardent romantic lead — he really sells it — and Heflin uses her big, soulful eyes as a window into Sheila’s contradictory yearnings. In romantic comedies, you should always ask whether you care if the couple gets together, and in “A Perfect Couple” the answer is a resounding yes.