A lonely widow kills herself with her friend's gun, and her daughter arranges the scene to look like a murder in order to avoid the disgracing stigma of suicide. On the surface, Cookie's Fortune sounds like pretty morose stuff, but in the hands of Robert Altman, who sets the film with the same pace as a muggy Southern afternoon, it all plays out in a leisurely, lighthearted manner. In traditional Altman style, the film is brimming with engaging characters, and the script by Anne Rapp finds humor in its Southerners without looking down on them. But because the film relies so heavily on dialogue and characterization, the plot ends up playing an unusual role. It's clear that Altman really isn't concerned with the suicide/murder case, so while the story is kept to a minimum, that's strangely still too much. In the end, Cookie's Fortune is lightweight amusement buoyed by some heavyweight performances: Dutton, Tyler, and Moore are excellent, with Close walking the line between greatness and over-the-top hysteria. It's telling that Altman would choose a film like this as a follow-up to the soggy The Gingerbread Man, which was based on a John Grisham script. It's almost like an Altman apology.
