Brewster McCloud (1970)

(On Cable TV, June 2020) Writer-director Robert Altman’s sense of humour is an unusual one, as shown by the odd Brewster McCloud. It’s a bizarre mixture of Houston setting, ornithologic information, oddball characters and uncomfortable gags that get more quizzical chuckles than outright laughs. Most amusing bits are a few refinements away from outright humour: there’s clearly something here that’s meant to be funny, but it doesn’t click naturally—although viewers are free to revel in the weird counterculture nature of it all. The atmosphere of 1970s Houston is well rendered, though, with a focus on the Astrodome as the scene of many of the film’s big moments. In other ways, Brewster McCloud is random stuff thrown together for unclear purposes: As a taste, let’s mention the professor (played by René Auberjonois) whose lecture on bird characteristics keeps underscoring the character action, even as he gradually transforms into a bird throughout the film. Said references inevitably lead to an Icarus-like climax. Other bits and pieces include some weird take on the Bullitt-grade supercop archetype, an amusing car chase, and an angel intervening in the proceedings whenever she can—plus Shelly Winters looking much cuter than expected in her screen debut, despite unfortunate eye makeup choices. Add to that Altman’s motifs of gritty filmmaking and naturalistic dialogues and Brewster McCloud certifiably becomes a weird movie—but not necessarily a successful on. Although that final video credit sequence… has to be seen to be believed. Which stands for much of the film, really—you’ve never seen anything quite like this before or after.