Following the immense success of M*A*S*H,
Robert Altman made an even funnier, less comprehensible comedy.
Brewster McCloud stars Bud Cort at the title character,
an eccentric young man who lives in the fallout shelter of the
Houston Astrodome and spends his time building a set of metal
wings so he can become a bird. Though the plot may seem standard,
the movie is made in such an eccentric way, that the plot is
all but lost under layers of feathers.
This is by far Altman at his quirkiest. He has
the same sense of wry satire, such as when the film false-starts
and rerolls the credits in the first few minutes, and the cast
is introduced in a surreal circus-themed curtain call at the
end of the film. At the same time, we have the lecturer (Rene
Auberjonois) discussing characteristics of birds (and developing
some himself) as a type of commentary on the events and characters
in the film. And what are those events? Well, there's Brewster
(Cort, before he made it big in Harold and Maude the
following year) avoiding capture by the Astrodome security guard,
and building his wings. There's the mysterious guardian angel
Louise (Sally Kellerman) who manages to always show up to rescue
Brewster from sticky situations, and may or may not be responsible
for a series of murders. There's innocent tour guide, and Brewster's
love interest Suzanne Davis (Shelley Duvall) and the investigator
flown in from San Francisco, primarily to look good, Detective
Frank Shaft (Michael Murphy). Throw into the mix a lot of bird
shit, and you've got yourself a high-flying good time.
One of the reasons this movie is so funny is that
it's essentially what Altman's best at--a murder mystery. All
the humor comes from the rampant comic relief. It's all perfectly
timed, and in any other movie, or done less expertly, it would
have caused groans instead of peals of laughter. The almost
slapstick elements, such as the extensive car chase, seem so
out of the realm of possibility that one almost believes the
absurd notions the film is based upon, like the successful building
of human wings.
I must praise Altman for throwing in a scene one
rarely sees in cinema, even nearly forty years later. At one
point, Brewster's friend Hope (Jennifer Salt) brings him food
while he's in the middle of working out in his bikini briefs.
Needless to say, she becomes somewhat aroused, and does something
to relieve her frustration, but it's in a way completely different
than one would usually see. While films have often been criticized
for being an extension of the male gaze, this segment is one
example where a male director has provided a strong depiction
of the female gaze on celluloid. This point gets overlooked
by the hilarity that comes from her desires, but it's there
nonetheless.
Brewster McCloud is so much more than
the Icarus story it masquerades as. It's less dissectible than
even Altman's most complex films, but in a completely subtle
way, where the viewer has no idea how convoluted the plot (if
there is one at all) actually is. This movie will have you rolling
in the aisles and checking the skies for dangerous ravens. And
wishing you could see it another time!
