User Reviews

I've seen it a couple of times. I understand Altman was maybe trying to create a disjointed, farcial almost surreal type atmosphere, but I found the lack of cohesiveness and clear cut thread annoying and it caused me to not care about the film or its characters. Being just a regular jane and not blessed with 15 or so credits in Film-making at NYU, the subtly of the art was lost on me. I desperately wanted just a little exposition to grab onto, and all the film's inside jokes and vague, obscure references to Italian films I found to be self indulgent. I'm not saying this film was bad - just bad for me. I think he could have pulled off the same feel and frenzied little European farce with a TOUCH more connective tissue in the plot. Not a lot, just a little for the audience to care about the story, the characters and whatnot. The thing I found in the film that I even cared more than a fig about was the Simone storyline.

I missed Ready to Wear when it was released in 1994, and finally rented the film. I had great anticipation. The fashion industry was the next to squirm under Mr. Altman's cinematic scalpel. Altman assembled a large, talented ensemble cast as usual. The locale is the annual prêt-à-porter fashion show in Paris, as a multitude of characters descend on hotels, fashion houses, restaurants, and runways; their stories intertwining and crisscrossing across a pastiche of interlocking plotlines. It'll be just like Nashville, in other words, another Altman tour de force.

Oddly and sadly, it's nothing of the sort. Ready to Wear loses its way early, and drifts aimlessly along for its lengthy 133 minute runtime. The characters lack the depth of his other films; they're poorly defined and you never really feel you get to know them. The dialogue is shallow and lacks bite. Even the little things tend to annoy; why use sidewalk dog poop as a unifying symbol? What's the point to that?

All in all I found Ready to Wear disappointing and probably my least favorite of Altman's films.

In the tradition of Nashville and Short Cuts comes another interweaving mix of odd tales set during a Parisian fashion show with an all star cast.

Robert Altman is a true pro and one of American cinema's greats. Here, his slick directing, coupled with a snazzy and peppy soundtrack, and a veritable cornucopia of top actors keep things moving along well enough in his 1994 fashion satire to avoid boredom. But, unlike his other multi-strand tales like 'Nashville' and 'Short Cuts', the various stories never feel as satisfying or well connected.

In fact, several are almost perfunctory and have absolutely nothing to do with the fashion trade (especially the Robbins-Roberts & Everett threads, neither of which feel important and lack full resolution). And alas, even then, the ones that do offer nothing biting, insightful or new to say about this sometimes crazy and backhanded business except the same tired 'natural is more beautiful' spiel. It's a shame too as the film is never out and out boring, but it just makes me wish for more. It had everything needed for a great film, and it ended up being just an okay one.

Why, oh why, Bob?

When you think of a Robert Altman film, what *should* come to mind are elements like bitingly sharp satire, clever takes on human interaction and a brilliant portrayal of the subject matter; in other words, a mirror is held up to the topic examined and reflected back to the audience with maybe a tweak, a twist or a knowing wink.

That's not the case with "Prêt-à-Porter" or "Ready To Wear," as it was released in its US theatrical run.

The problem with this film is a complete lack of focus and understanding about what happens during Market week in the fashion industry, what is important about it, and for this film, most crucially, what's interesting about it! The result shows that this time, the Auteur didn't do his homework.

The plot of the film is multi-layered, like all of Altman's work, so there's a lot going on, but each layer is more preposterous than the previous. Perhaps had only one of the threads been so off track, it could have still worked. However, with every element being a farcical storyline, it is simply too much to stomach.

Even with the all-star cast gathered on location in the City of Light, dealing with theft, love, murder, manipulation, a bald tattoo, a lot of champagne and a cliché about the sidewalks of that European capital, and... oh yeah! the world of fashion... you can confidently skip this chapter of the Altman story and know you didn't miss anything.

If you think "Pret-a-Porter" ("Ready to Wear" for us unsophisticated types) is going to be Robert Altman taking you back to "Nashville" or "Short Cuts"...well, think again. Altman totally misfires here. Hey, even Mark McGwire strikes out now and then, Robert!

It seems as though Altman couldn't decide whether to make a comedy or a serious behind the scenes look at the fashion industry. So he ended up doing neither. There are very few laughs here. (None, in fact, is a pretty good estimate of the number). And the characters are so cartoonish, especially the way over the top gay fashion designers, that it couldn't possibly have anything serious to say about the real fashion industry.

Yes, there is a very, very good cast here. I think, however, Altman spent all of his time getting these talented actors and actresses rounded up, and none of his time working on a script. Why, for instance, does he put the always fun Teri Garr in this film, and then forget about her character for two-thirds of the movie?

Maybe someday someone will make a really good expose of the fashion industry. This is not it.

Even with a stellar cast it is nonsense and boring. How can someone make a movie about fashion in Paris and be so terrible?

Looks like if someone is using their remote and trying to select a show! SKIP!

Doesn't go anywhere. SKIP.

And that's not saying that it's great either. It is not. But it's tremendously low imdb rating makes me wonder who the heck is voting here. Pret-a-Porter is a pretty good Robert Altman film that is no better or worse than Short Cuts, which, while I feel it is a good film, I also think it is overrated. This one is, however, heavily underrated, and they both got the same imdb score from me: 7/10 = 3/4 stars.

This is another attempt to make another Nashville. There's a humongous ensemble cast of actors, some of the best on the planet, a couple of the best who ever lived. The screenwriter doesn't connect it all very well, and lots of the characters seem superfluous or underdeveloped, unlike in Nashville where even the characters who are only in a couple of scenes are as familiar to the viewer as a close friend. I would particularly have liked the Danny Aiello/Teri Garr section to have been removed. It falls pretty flat. The Sophia Loren/Marcello Mastrioanni section, the section that most film buffs are going to be excited for, also plops by its end. And Kim Basinger, a good actress, truly deserving her L.A. Confidential Oscar, is not very good as the Southern U.S. reporter: her accent is difficult to get around, and her character is often annoying, too. Sometimes, though, her pieces succeed.

Many other of the vignettes succeed quite well, although there are never any fireworks about to shoot off. The Tim Robbins/Julia Roberts plot is very funny. The three publishers, Sally Kellerman, Tracy Ullman, and Linda Hunt's attempts to sign photographer Milo (Stephen Rea) to their magazine are all very humorous. The love quadrangle between the two designers, Forest Whitaker and Richard E. Grant, and their lovers is very good, also. Anouk Aimee's section is also great, maybe the best part (Rupet Everett is good, also). I loved her so much in La Dolce Vita and 8 1/2. I was aching for her and Marcello Mastrioanni to interact.

The ending is truly fantastic. It is very well directed and filmed. It's a good film.

I've been on an Altman kick lately. He was a very interesting filmmaker whose output is split pretty evenly between wonderful successes and crashing-bore failures that are at least interesting in a train wreck kind of way. Very few of his films fall in the middle ground between these two. Unfortunately, "Pret a Porter" (Ready to Wear) is one of those very few. This film has the same inter-cut multi-story structure as the classic "Nashville" and the underrated "A Wedding," but none of the anarchic madness or depth of those earlier films. But it's also not a spectacular "what the hell were they thinking" failure like "Quintet," "Popeye," or "OC & Stiggs." "Pret" falls squarely in the middle ground. And the result is a film that is almost too boring to watch. There's just nothing special here--the story isn't special, the style in which the story is told isn't special, the cinematography is straight and bland, the sense of reality and improvisation is missing, and the signature Altman overlapping dialog is nowhere to be heard. It's like Altman wrote the script and then handed it over to Chris Columbus to direct. Like I said before, I wanted to like it. But there's nothing there that's any better or worse than bland average blah-ness. Middle of the middle ground.

And for Robert Altman--the middle ground equals total failure.

There's one thing in this film that I love in a very film nerdish sort of way and that is Danny Aiello's character, which is, in a strange way, a homage to an earlier character in Altman's California Split (a film well worth revisiting). And while some of the characters may seem over the top, my own experience in the fashion world would attest to them being pretty realistic. While it feels as fragmented as any Altman, there is a story here, and it's a pretty subtle one, but perfectly satisfactory in my opinion. I think the film, overall, is woefully under-rated. I feel like everyone got caught up in the idea of "ALTMAN" and then got confused by "THE STARS" and then didn't really bother to look at the movie, which has some lovely grace and is well worth the time. Then again, why listen to me, I liked Ishtar.

It's hard to understand why so many reputable critics have vilified this film, which is in Altman's Nashville mode—and indeed includes many of the elements that made that earlier film such a critical success. Both address the hypocrisy and viciousness of a big money-making industry, by interweaving a number of loosely connected stories acted by a large celebrity cast. Some of these stories work better than others, in both films; as a previous reviewer noted, in Pret-à-Porter, they all hinge on the central theme of betrayal, with a cumulative effect that is saddening as well as amusing.

The principal difference between the two films lies in the way they end. Nashville is closed off (to my mind, unconvincingly) by an assassination at a political rally. Ready to Wear ends with a breathtakingly beautiful, even erotic acting-out of the story of the Emperor's New Clothes, where almost none of the fashion-industry types realize that the bankrupt designer has clothed all of her models in...nothing. The only one who does get the joke is the clueless and incompetent reporter (Kim Basinger, from Texas, doing a fine retake on Geraldine Chaplin's annoying role in Nashville), who stalks off in a huff.

Apparently lots of critics stalked off in a huff, too. That's too bad, since the film has lots of good qualities. But you miss the point if you don't realize that it's all leading up to that big shaggy-dog-story punchline.

Fashionistas, journalists and hangers-on from around the world converge on Paris during Fashion Week. By 1994, producer-director Robert Altman had acquired such a sterling reputation among actors (based on his free reign policy of letting his performers find their own way with their characters within the scenario) that the biggest stars of the time were willing to sign on to the latest Altman project, no matter the material. This may help to explain what Sophia Loren, Marcello Mastroianni, Julia Roberts, Tim Robbins, Lauren Bacall, Anouk Aimée, Kim Basinger, Rupert Everett, Linda Hunt, Forest Whitaker, Teri Garr, Tracey Ullman, Danny Aiello, Stephen Rea, Sally Kellerman, Lili Taylor and others are doing here, besides chatting-chatting-chatting themselves into a vacuum. Altman, who also co-wrote the screenplay with Barbara Shulgasser, appears to have even more contempt for runway fashion than he showed for country music in "Nashville", but at least there he had a solid group of characters courtesy of Joan Tewkesbury's acerbic script. Altman apes Tewkesbury's fragmented style in the hopes of capturing another irreverent gem, but neither the cast nor the fashions (nor all the overlapping talk) are interesting here. It's nice to see that Loren is still slapping Mastroianni but, without anything else to play, their scenes together merely feed on our movie memories without replenishing them. NO STARS from ****

Although some Altman films are more tightly focused on a unifying narrative thread, for instance Gosford Park or Cookie's Fortune, Pret-a-porter employs the over-lapping ensemble format perhaps best exemplified in Nashville and, to some extent, MASH. I wonder, however, whether some reviewers have not missed the point of this film. Although there is not linear narrative line, the film is unified by a theme -- that of betrayal. Everyone appears to be betraying someone else in this film, whether a spouse, partner, or close relation, and ultimately wrapped in the naked fashion parade -- the industry betraying its consumers. There are weak aspects of the "plot" to be sure, but also some great performances -- Richard E Grant stands out as a camp classic, while Rupert Everett convincingly plays straight. And how Sophia Loren manages to maintain poise, look stunning, and put in a good comedic performance while wearing hugely over-sized hats is beyond me.

No one can argue that Altman is a brilliant film-maker. But at least have the guts to say that this was not his finest hour.

The film was a hodgepodge of scenes that was suppose to fit together nicely as we get to the ending as the models walk out on stage wearing nothing but lipstick. But in reality, this film was like watching clips from 'The Carol Burnett Show'. Some of the things in the movie are very well done. But the scenes did not fit together to make a coherent flow- as it seemed we drifted from situation to situation without a cause or purpose. Was not sure if this was suppose to be a comedy or a revelation of the fashion industry. Either way it was lost in the translation.

This movie goes to prove, that even with a star-studded cast, you need a story that at least flows to reach a certain point for the audience to comprehend. This movie does not flow. In this collection of clips, there are some funny moments and some serious moments. While the moments are nice they cannot hid the fact the story was lacking.

One of the most boring movies I have ever seen.Was it supposed to be a comedy or a drama?? .The high profile cast must have nightmares about this one. Even the presence of Julia Roberts could not raise any interest. Absolutely awful.

Filmmaker Robert Altman takes on the fashion world. It's a lot of Hollywood stars playing roles and real fashion stars in the days heading into Paris Fashion Week. This is a mess. It feels fake as fake stories in a movie about an industry of fakes. The other problem is that it's not fake enough. It's not sharp enough nor surreal enough to be a funny satire. As in most Altman movies, this has a dozen different stories happening all at the same time. Non of them are compelling enough. Non of the fictional characters are compelling either. The most compelling part may be the cowboy boots. It's like a superficial take on a superficial world. It's an inch deep and miles wide. It's saying a lot about nothing.

Like everyone else, I note this didn't have much of a plot, etc. etc. But it was just a hoot to watch. I died every time Richard E. Grant came on the screen -- he's a phenomenal character actor. I say, lighten up! This wasn't just satire/social commentary... there was subtle homage to everything from the Marx Brothers to Fellini. In other words, don't analyze too hard; just enjoy!

7/10

...especially given the star-studded cast (i.e Loren and Mastroianni, etc), but Altman's plotless movie goes nowhere. The film relies more on the charisma of the actors rather than character development, convincing dialogues, storyline, etc., though it does have a few funny moments (the transvestite scene near the end was hilarious).

It's not, however, the disaster that some critics have suggested. I liked the fact that the actors/actresses here didn't take themselves too seriously, and the fancy and colorful characters of the fashion world depicted (some real, some fictional) were quite amusing. Overall, a "passable" movie with a terrible script (was there a script?) 5/10.

Robert Altman's death three days ago brings to mind not only his movies, but his unique style: letting people develop the characters themselves, and overlapping dialogue. In that sense, "Pret-a-Porter/Ready to Wear" is possibly the best example of his movies. One really gets the feeling that they just filmed whatever happened here. This story of a murder in the midst of a Paris fashion show pretty much does whatever it wants, and does a worthwhile job with it. Starring Marcello Mastroianni, Sophia Loren, and a too-long-to-name list of other people.

So, in conclusion: thanks for everything, Mr. Altman! You were one of the greatest directors of all time!

I saw this film at the cinema on release and it was dreadful. The so-called humour was absent without leave, not even close to raising a single laugh in the audience. The same old 'joke' ran through the movie with some guy treading in dog crap in every scene, and that was as funny as it got...

There was no plot. You felt no empathy, or even interest, in the shallow, stereotyped characters. It really was cringe worthy. I couldn't believe what I was watching.

I recall that this was supposed to be some kind of parody of the fashion industry and perhaps there are lots of in-jokes I have no hope of spotting, or maybe my English sense of humour is too evolved for the obvious, puerile humour.

It was truly exciting to see `Ready to Wear' in the theaters when it first came out. Seldom do films delight and amuse us at this level. But this is like a Woody Allen film: either you love it or hate it. Since the story is too complicated to explain (and the best thing about this film), I'm sticking to mostly non-plot aspects in this review.

One of the challenges in your first viewing will be this film's utter lack of exposition. You will be asked to board this train while it is moving; in fact, you will need to leap from track to track. The story is not unfolded as much as it is thrown at you in pieces. Two minutes after you are tossed into a conversation (already in progress), you will be asked to join another. Unless you have a mind as competitively poised as a super-model, you'll miss much of the movie the first time.

Don't let the immersion in the world of fashion fool you into thinking this is a movie `about' fashion. Fashion is merely a backdrop, a setting for Altman to play his scenes. That he so thoroughly masters his subject is merely a tribute to his intelligence and sophistication.

Like Milos Forman in `The Firemen's Ball,' Altman has created a wonderful menagerie of human foibles with which to lampoon us. Our pettiness, our lack of shame, our corruption and our low regard for each other are portrayed so truthfully and cleverly that we don't notice who is the real subject of the satire. We smugly assume it is the fashion world on trial.

Even the opening credits were fun - what a collection of personalities (all stitched on garment labels)!. Every casting decision was a good one; every performance was satisfying. The only thing funnier than Danny Aiello in drag, is watching him being told he looks like Barbra Streisand. And the only thing funnier than that is realizing it's true.

While we're trying to figure out a murder, we are also being dazzled by the constellation of world stars of all kinds parading before us. That Altman dared to attempt such a feat (the group photo at Versailles alone must have been a challenge) is not half as astonishing as that he pulled it off. But the stars, too, are merely a backdrop to funny stories and situations. No one but Altman could make an Elsa Klensch cameo so surprisingly hilarious. The interview about the pouf skirts was just plain funny. But will most of the audience appreciate it? `I doubt it.'

Another delight is Altman's pervasive references to clothing, so dominant you will miss half of them. A cab driver, identifying a murderer, tells the police `all white people look alike.' How does he tell them apart? `By their clothes.' Film is confiscated from a fashion shoot, because the murder suspect was inadvertently captured in the background. But his face was cutoff in every shot. `We don't know what he looks like,' the detective complains. `But we know what he was wearing.' Every conversation, every plot, each detail is so thoroughly self-referencing to fashion; but mostly, there are dozens of funny moments. Even the red herring of murder is based on our mistaking an innocent fashion item for an omen of death.

This review is written specifically for those who have not seen 'Pret-a-Porte' and are confused by the mixed reviews on this site and from the Critical Press in general. To you, I would say the following: Don't take my word for it...see it for yourself and figure out what YOU think of it. It is my opinion that the worst film from Robert Altman is still the best film of the year (with rare exceptions) and so, naturally, I would recommend this film to anyone. However, Director Altman does NOT make films for everyone. He often makes films for the 'Advanced' film-goer. His work is often dis-jointed and overlapping to an extent that it requires one to actually ay attention to the goings' on rather than to spoon-feed the answers to the audience. Couple this with his tendency to allow the plot and the character to meander, evolving slowly over the course of the film and you often get a movie that is distinctly 'un-Hollywood', which can turn some film goers off. So I would recommend that you not only sit through this film, but allow yourself to actually watch it without any preconceived ideas of how a movie is supposed to be. Then I think you will find a witty, sexy satire that is more about our own vanity and betrayal than it is about the fashion industry.

But like I said, don't take my word for it (or the words of anyone else, for that matter): If you are curious, please watch it. And make up your own mind.

I'll give this one two points because, some parts of it are really visually interesting (as one would certainly expect in a film about fashion). Altman, whose work I've always mistrusted, shows his true colors here. His take on the superficiality of the fashion world is as superficial as fashion itself! I guess our auteur thinks shots of feet stepping in poo will subtly express a righteous disdain for the fashion world.

Mr.Altman, taking cheap shots at obvious (and incredibly easy) targets is not clever. Your lack of subtlety (and understanding) of your subject amazes. Your trademark intertwining of several plot lines does not work here. Know this--its a simple topic, really, and deserves a simple approach. Even your self righteous disgust at the superficiality of the fashion world is misplaced. This marks you as an intellectual snob (I just always knew your were).

Fashion is silly, but it's also fun, and it's more important to us than we care to admit. You show no empathy for any of your many characters,you just set them up like bowling pins and proceed to knock them down as noisily and messily as possible. Some of your most unpleasant traits persist here--this is clearly a director's statement, your gig, and the actors, famous as they are, are just chess pieces to be moved about according to whim--is this sort of power amusing to you? The story line is so poorly thought out, that it just doesn't exist. You are clearly annoyed with the idea of celebrity, but guess what--you're one too--don't we get any fun out of status--are we that proud? Why the hostility towards fashion people? I suppose they're not thinking the sorts of important thoughts that you deem necessary to justify one's existence.

This is a great masturbatory mess of a movie, a so called social critique/fantasy that tells us nothing and goes nowhere. Even the last scene, the now-infamous nude modeling romp, doesn't cut the boredom or blot out the odious stench of pretension. I'm with the English--subtlety is the key to effective humor, including satire (I assume this piece was intended be a satire--of something!)