The Cinematheque

“A wacky masterpiece, the like of which you’ve never seen before.”

Geoff Andrews, Time Out

“I yam what I yam!” Popeye’s warts-and-all catchphrase could easily apply to this totally bonkers, obsessively watchable, live-action adaptation of E. C. Segar’s spinach-pushing comic strip, directed by the great American auteur Robert Altman. A baffling mix of Max Fleischer-nodding cartoon slapstick, undiluted Altmanisms—overlapping, semi-improvised dialogue; high-wire juggling of a ragtag ensemble—and music by mercurial ​‘70s songwriter Harry Nilsson, Popeye was, at the time of its release, far too peculiar a studio film to connect with either audiences or critics. (Though it had its outlying defenders, Roger Ebert chief among them.) Today it can be appreciated as the misfit, amusement-park movie that it is, anchored (heh) by Robin Williams as the clam eyed, veggie fuelled Sailor Man, and Shelley Duvall, pitch perfect, as the radiant, angular Olive Oyl. This is Altman for kids!