Robert Altman's "The Long Goodbye" exists perfectly at the intersection of Film Noir nostalgia and New Hollywood iconoclasm.  Recently I heard legendary cinematographer Vilmos Zsigmond describe his technique of moving the camera constantly when he shot it. Which is a crazy gamble to take. Even with that awareness it somehow didn't feel self-conscious or forced. It makes everything feel real and a bit loose and nervy. There's something really appealing about antiheroes and Eliot Gould's Marlowe is a guy I can relate to. As the world around him is disintegrating he's worried about getting his cat his favourite brand of cat food - going so far as to hide an inferior brand in a discarded can when the grocery store is out. The movie glides along the way a good Altman film does and in good film noir tradition our main character is always one step behind the story, living in a world where strings are being pulled by those with Dobermans instead of cats and beachfront mansions instead of messy one-bedrooms. It's the kind of picture they just stopped making, leaving viewers like me cinematic orphans.