In terms of artistic icons that left behind an indelible legacy in the global culture, there are few more notable than James Dean, whose tragic demise at the age of only 25 signalled one of the most distinct movements towards idolizing an actor, one not seen since perhaps the death of Rudolf Valentino at the tail-end of the silent era, and which we have not really seen at this level since. In this regard, we get Come Back to the 5 & Dime, Jimmy Dean, Jimmy Dean, the play written by Ed Graczyk, which tells the story of a group of devotees to the late actor, who unite in a small shop somewhere in the heart of Texas (close to where he filmed Giant, his final film) to pay tribute to their idol on the twentieth anniversary of his death. In the process, these women start to reflect on their pasts, both their shared experiences and individual journeys over the past two decades, which have seen each and every one of them become almost entirely different people, unrecognizable to their former friends when they come together to revisit the past and go over the many triumphs and tragedies that they have each endured over the years since they last saw each other. The play was produced on stage by Robert Altman, who also managed to get the rights to turn it into a film, which has become one of his more cherished works, produced at a time when he was working to blur the boundaries between stage and screen, with the 1980s being an era in which the celebrated director was actively adapting plays into memorable films, for the sake of not only capturing them on film for posterity, but also to look at these stories through the liberating lens of the camera, which allowed him to add nuance to works that were already excellent when produced in their original form, but take on an entirely new meaning when Altman critically engages with their primal themes in a very simple but effective manner.

From the outset, one of the elements of Come Back to the 5 & Dime, Jimmy Dean, Jimmy Dean that is most well-remembered is that it is a film driven by its ensemble. One of the few instances where a film doesn’t have a discernible lead, but rather a few major characters that all work together to form a kind of artistic symbiosis, the film makes excellent use of its cast, many of whom were used to these characters, having played them on stage in Altman’s original production, with his requirements for directing the film version be that he is able to retain the cast, a smart choice considering how much the film depended on the portrayal of the characters, as they define the film as a whole. From the first moments of Come Back to the 5 & Dime, Jimmy Dean, Jimmy Dean, we are aware that these actors know exactly who these characters are, having nurtured them on stage for quite a while, and they therefore turn in uniformly strong performances. The central trio is made up of Sandy Dennis (undeniably one of the greatest actresses to ever work in the medium, albeit someone who is often overlooked when considering the most interesting performers of the era), Karen Black and Cher, who was giving one of her very first serious performances, previously being perceived as nothing but a well-liked but unremarkable pop singer who weaponized her enormous fanbase to get film roles – if only her detractors knew how capable of an actress she is, and how the 1980s would bring her several unforgettable opportunities to showcase her talents. All three of them are remarkable in different ways – Dennis is erratic, Cher laid-back and easygoing, and Black (the outsider of the group) brooding and mysterious, each occupying a different place in the narrative, unlocking key elements of the story in a way that strikes us as incredibly potent when we start to realize where the film is heading. Choosing a standout is difficult, especially when everyone in the film (including the unheralded Sudie Bond and Kathy Bates, both of whom are just as good) is so incredibly interesting. It’s a true ensemble effort, which is certainly one of the strengths of Altman’s work.

Like many of his films, Come Back to the 5 & Dime, Jimmy Dean, Jimmy Dean sees Altman endeavouring to capture a particular time and place, and he works closely with the original text to evoke the social and cultural milieu of both what was the contemporary era at the time of the play’s writing (the mid-1970s), as well as the past, which is here rendered as the days around the death of James Dean in 1955. The contrast between the two eras may seem insignificant, especially as we know that 20 years can be awfully fleeting if one isn’t paying attention. Time does indeed fly for these characters, but it’s not an easy process, so their reunion is less of an opportunity for them to revisit the past as it is a chance to take a look at how their lives have changed over the course of twenty years. Setting it in the exact same location is a smart decision, and Altman does very little to change the actual design, keeping this small store almost entirely intact, as well as having the actors wear the exact same outfits in both the present day and sequences set in the past, which requires us to actively observe the film and draw the distinction between the two eras. It’s a quintessentially Texan film, drawing a lot of inspiration from the dominant qualities associated with those that hail from this particular state, whether it be in the bold strokes (such as how the cast conveys the deeply melancholic malaise felt by those who live in the region), as well as the small details, which create an engrossing, deeply endearing portrait of the cultural circumstances experienced by these women in two separate time periods. It makes for a truly thrilling time capsule, with Altman drawing out both the inherent humour and pathos in the situation, and ultimately resulting in a beautifully poetic two hours of filmmaking.

More than anything else, this film is one centred on the theme of memory, which is integral to the original text, and while Altman does not hesitate to explore as one of the primary themes of his version of Come Back to the 5 & Dime, Jimmy Dean, Jimmy Dean. Many have remarked on the director’s very interesting use of mirrors – almost the entire story is told by characters peering at themselves through the many mirrors and windows that are littered across the squalid store. This panders to the central theme of reflection, which is made extremely clear through the presence of mirrors as a motif – but rather than using these as the primary method of looking into the past, Altman instead utilizes them as the catalyst, instead focusing on the careful curation of the memories of these women as the main method of exploring their different lives. The film never ventures out of the store, restricting it solely to the small space in which the entire story takes place. The exteriors of the titular 5 & Dime is never seen, either in the present day or the past, which may make Come Back to the 5 & Dime, Jimmy Dean, Jimmy Dean seem like a film limited by its stage origins – but considering how much of the narrative centres on these women revisiting their past through looking at one distinct day in their lives, and then comparing everything that happened subsequently until their inevitable return to the location, it makes total sense of Altman to keep it restricted, since so much of the most evocative material comes through in dialogue, and while it would have been exceptionally easy to depict the events discussed by characters, it is so much more effective to limit these to the conversations, allowing the playwright’s words, as spoken by these gifted actresses, to paint a vivid portrait of the past and presence. Come Back to the 5 & Dime, Jimmy Dean, Jimmy Dean is a story-driven by recollection and reminiscence, so it may seem straightforward in execution, but there is a genuine subversiveness lurking just out of sight throughout this film.

Come Back to the 5 & Dime, Jimmy Dean, Jimmy Dean is a truly mesmerizing film. While it may not be the most traditionally well-constructed of Altman’s work, it did signal the beginning of a brief period in which many of his films were extracted from pieces of theatre that he either deeply admired, or saw potential in bringing to the screen (if not a combination of both), leading him to make use of his common tendency towards ensemble-based pictures in conjunction with a deeply melancholic sense of longing that he had not considered previously. As a whole, this film mainly belongs to the actors – outside of a few unique flourishes, Altman is almost entirely absent in terms of the film’s authorial voice, which was an intentional choice done to give the power of the text to the actors, who in turn take the opportunity to expand on these characters they originated on stage, breathing new life into a text that already had a lot of promise, but which was elevated to new levels through the process of bringing it to the screen. It’s a fascinating document of a time and place, as seen through the rose-tinted glasses of nostalgia, which makes for an enthralling and immersive experience. It may be overly simple at times, but it never feels like it wastes the opportunity to say something meaningful, which ultimately contributes massively to these endearing and insightful ideas that touch on integral aspects of the human condition, all shown through the lens of a group of characters questioning everything they know to be true, whether it be their sexuality, identity or very understanding of what it means to be a woman in a rapidly changing country, all of which is explored so beautifully by a director with a distinct and varied understanding of life and its many peculiarities.