Brewster McCloud

Bud Cort plays Brewster McCloud. He's a very strange young man who lives in the Houston Astrodome and is building a huge set of wings so he can fly. The movie is about him and his VERY odd assortment of friends and family. And how about the killer running around Houston strangling people and leaving bird droppings on them?

As you can see this is a very strange film. It's unlike anything director Robert Altman has ever done. The film isn't perfect--it's too long, the weirdness wears you down at times, some of the humor is real sick and there are characters that are just disgusting (Stacy Keach) or too flat out weird, even for this movie (Jennifer Salt)! And what's with the circus ending (entertaining as it is)? Still I love this film.

The story rambles all over the place but I was able to keep track of it. Altman packs the movie with plenty of bird imagery and references. He also pays homage to other films also--most notably "The Wizard of Oz" (right up to having Margaret Hamilton in the cast and check out how Salt is dressed at times). This really doesn't pull together in any way but it IS fascinating to watch. Also the cast is great--with one exception--Michael Murphy. He's miscast and looks miserable. But everybody else is perfect. Particular standouts are Cort (very good in a difficult role), Shelley Duvall (who usually annoys me to no end) and Sally Kirkland (looking absolutely stunning). Also there's a very cute injoke--there's a quick shot of the poster for "MASH" in Duvall's apartment!

This film was overshadowed by Altman's "MASH" in 1970. Also, the studio hated it and threw it away. Now, however, it is rightfully considered one of the best films of its decade. I highly recommend this--but not for everybody. If you like a linear plot and easily defined characters, stay away.

Brewster McCloud was the kind of picture I could imagine having being written over many (count *many*) joints and after not getting a career going as an ornithologist (I might add, the screenwriter only had two or three other projects produced, and nowhere near as seen as this one is in comparison). It's as nutty as a Clark bar: a kid with the title name (Bud Cort, in an immediate precursor-type performance to his Harold in Harold and Maude as an awkward, shy outsider who has a some kind of desire behind his geeky exterior) is at the task of building wings so he can fly, and he builds it in the basement/boiler room of the Houstin Astrodome. Some mysterious woman played by Sally Kellerman is, I think, killing people that seem to end up really pestering Brewster, which include a craggy Mr. Burns figure (Stacy Keach, hilariously one-note), a narc, and a random dude with a chain. I'd guess she's the killer- there's a whole sub-plot, by the way, with a police investigation headed by Shaft (no, not talking about that one, Michael Murphy plays him here, that's right), who's more interested in the bird dung that keeps showing up on the deceased instead of regular police work.

Meanwhile, Jennifer Salt gets off on the vibes of a half-nude Brewster doing chin-ups, Shelly Duvall with over-extended eye-lashes falls for Brewster one moment and then rats on him the next, and then there's still Kellerman doing her thing thwarting off, and...did I mention there's a professor/narrator who seems like a mental patient with a lot of facts about fowl? So much of this is hard to take, and towards the end it becomes very frustrating trying to put *any* sense to it (how is Duvall so good at evading the police, how is that one cop such a buffoon to read Captain America while on a stake-out, why does Jennifer Salt keep popping up and giving Brewster food/orgasms, and how much symbolic "ah, I'm a blonde angel" can we take from Kellerman?) But then again, why bother? Altman is after the sly humor of the quirky as opposed to real common sense, and it's in his dedication and intelligence in following through with these characters, no matter how strange or subtle or inexplicably charming or demented they are, that makes the film work up to the point that it does.

And despite a sort of unsatisfying last twenty minutes with Brewster and some of the supporting characters (the whole sex angle is a little weak and too dated for me to buy), there's some experimentation for the director that would probably not come again. There's a car chase, for example, through the roads of Houston, and while it's not exciting on a Bullit type of level, it's fascinating to see when the sudden twists and turns pop up, unexpectedly (where did the little red car come from?), and there's even a remarkable slow-motion shot where, as part of a theme of the film, the cars fly above their intended plane. I also liked how Altman worked in an overly Felliniesque ending, as uncomfortable a catharsis it seems to be, with the Astrodome suddenly being flooded with carnival figures, and the main characters donned in costumes and wigs and such. Brewster McCloud is a funny bird, no pun intended, of a early 70s obscurity, a film that likely got a hundredth of the public attention that MASH got, but is probably just as strong in what it wants to deliver to its eclectic audience (albeit, personally, I think MASH is maybe Altman's most overrated). And it's probably the weirdest stoner movie that the director ever conceived, portentous cloud shots included!

This film, televised in Denmark in the mid-seventies, made a great impact on me. The story of Brewster and his dream of flying was wildly funny and poignant. And why it has become so obscure makes me wonder. I have been hoping for an opportunity to see it again. It is truly a great film as is the instructor Robert Altman!

I saw this film long ago, when it first came out in the theaters. One of the things you have to remember is that Altman's style (now copied so much it has become a cliché.. of the odd camera angles, the everyone-talking-at-once dialogue and such) was, at the time, quite new and much different than anything else out there. Thirty years later, this film is still amazing to watch. Brewter McCloud is more like a cartoon, something to be viewed for pure entertainment value, even the dark parts (and there are many of those). Bud Cort (Harold and Maude) is delightful, and the supporting cast (many of whom are Altman regulars) is great......I think that people with little or no sense of humor will not like this movie, but those raised in the post-South Park era will enjoy its wonderful portrayal of neurotic characters...as only Altman can deliver 'em.

Here's an interesting story I read shortly after watching this oddball experiment of a black comedy. The conceiver of this film, Doran William Cannon, had written the film during the 1960s while trying to make his name as a unique filmmaker during said time. Fast forward to the tail end of said decade and after a lot of hustling to get his project off the ground, it gets bought by new rising director Robert Altman who took the source material lightly and revamped it into his own version. What follows is Cannon publicly discussing his frustrations with his vision being changed against his wishes and the tough realization he had to encounter when giving your babies away to someone else.

Why am I bringing this up? Because this is one of the strangest experiments of a motion picture I've seen in quite some time, even after watching a few of Altman's 70s works following the death of Shelley Duvall (who made her screen debut here). Imagine trying to tell the story of a reclusive bird obsessed human who wishes to fly all the while becoming the chief suspect in a series of bird-related murders. There's no way you could take the premise to heart unless it were in someway tongue in cheek, and fortunately Altman elevates Cannon's material into a bizarrely surreal meta commentary on bird related activity and human compulsion, blending reality with surreality. This is accompanied by the editing which is as bombastic and jumbled as the intentionally scattered events we're witnessing on display.

The best way to describe Brewster McCloud is part dark comedy, part experimental mystery, part human reflection, part romantic ingenuity and part musical nightmare. Considering that well known record / film producer Lou Alder was behind this, as well as John Phillips of Mamas & Papas fame, some internal American music is laced underneath the film's surface and the numerous actors on screen. Bud Cort in particular is as adorably intriguing as he is disturbingly odd playing Brewster, and seeing notable Altman collaborators Sally Kellerman, Michael Murphy, John Schuck, Bert Remsen, Duvall and more act in ordinance with one another so naturally keeps the film grounded in a believable Houston setting while still keeping the pacing brisk and cluttered all at once.

In all honesty, I can't not recommend checking this film out at least once. Regardless of your tolerance for experimental oddities in film, there's something so innately imaginative about this bizarre concoction that must be seen in order to be believed. It's not everyday that a film about a human being with the obsession of flying getting caught up in a crimewave can be so inspiring for all the right and wrong reasons. Whether or not Cannon's original material was better or worse than Altman's version, this kind of work is unlike anything out there and anyone curious enough to check it out will be pleasantly surprised in more ways than one.