University of Virginia Library

CINEMA

'Brewster' Funnier Than 'M*A*S*H'

By Paul Chaplin
Cavalier Daily Staff Writer

Very quietly in the early weeks
of 1970, Robert Altman released
"M*A*S*H." By the end of the
year the whole country seemed to
have seen it. Just as quietly,
however, Altman ended 1970 by
releasing another picture, "Brewster
McCloud." All of us who raved
about "M*A*S*H" should have
saved our praise, for "Brewster" is a
better directed and much funnier
film.

With his earlier success, Altman
established a reputation for having
a bizarre sense of humor, and this
film continues in that tradition. His
script, based on an original
screenplay by Doran William
Cannon, is tight and unified. While
"M*A*S*H" was episodic in
nature, "Brewster" needs a strong
plot to achieve its humor and
fantasy.

The script is a skillful blend of a
mystery story and segments
involving "the lecturer," a most
amazing character played by Rene
Auberjonois. The mystery element,
a spoof of "Bullitt," is tedious in
places, but is always rescued by
Altman's humor.

No Miscast

There isn't a single miscast
character in the film, and the entire
cast should be mentioned, but can't
be for lack of space. Brewster is
admirably portrayed by Bud Cort,
while Sally Kellerman is hauntingly
beautiful as Louise, his
godmother-protectoress.

The ladies often steal the show,
with roles ranging from Margaret

Hamilton's bitchy singing of "The
Star-Spangled Banner" to Shelly
Duvall's innocent seduction of
Brewster to Jennifer Salt's
one-woman orgy. The most
incredible role in the film is a
grotesque, played with gusto by
outstanding character actor Stacy
Keach.

My biggest complaint about the
film is John Philips' songs. They're
nice top-40 material which seem
especially out of place in the film.
Of course, Philips and his buddy
Lou Adler produced the film, so we
most expect pretty cloud shots so
Philips can promote his songs white
we're forced to listen.

The best song in the film is
Rosamond and James Weldon
Johnson's "Lift Every Voice and
Sing," the black national anthem.
As sung by Merry Clayton, its
tempo establishes a pace that never
lets up throughout the film, which
is also due to the excellent editing.
The song, however, may lead clever
and observant viewers to recognize
the ironies Altman is starting to
present and may force them to pay
close attention to every detail.

The ironies of the film are its
strong point. With them, Altman
has created a fantasy world which
exists in. Houston and her
Astrodome. It's a strange, savagely
funny world, a living Mad Magazine
with the bitter wit of Firesign
Theatre and the irreverence of
the National Lampoon blended into
one whole, and it all lives and
breathes in glorious Metrocolor and
boggling Panavision creating its own
sense of reality.

Elegant Departure

The entire film is beautifully
photographed, but the ending is
especially so. Starting with the
elegant departure of Louise, each
shot seems more exciting than the
one before. It all ends with a
curtain-call in a baroque nightmare
of a circus, which still continues the
running jokes of the film and
suggests additional readings of the
film.

I could go on talking about the
film, at least through the end of the
class you're now sitting in. I could
tip you off about some of the
obscure jokes or discuss various
readings you might consider when
watching the film. To do any more
than I have done already would
definitely spoil the film. "Brewster
McCloud" is one of those films that
makes me laugh hysterically, yet
still has a touch of warm
compassion that almost makes me
cry. I can only encourage you to
see "Brewster McCloud" soon and
not wait for your best friend to sell
it to you.

(Now at the Cinema)