6.5 | / 10 |
Users | 0.0 | |
Reviewer | 3.0 | |
Overall | 3.0 |
An introverted loner living in the bowels of the Astrodome plots to develop - with the aid of a mysterious guardian angel - a pair of wings that will help him fly.
Starring: Bud Cort, Sally Kellerman, Michael Murphy (I), William Windom, Shelley DuvallSurreal | 100% |
Comedy | Insignificant |
Fantasy | Insignificant |
Video codec: MPEG-4 AVC
Video resolution: 1080p
Aspect ratio: 2.40:1
Original aspect ratio: 2.35:1
English: DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0
English SDH
Blu-ray Disc
Single disc (1 BD)
Region free
Movie | 3.0 | |
Video | 4.5 | |
Audio | 4.0 | |
Extras | 0.5 | |
Overall | 3.0 |
Billed as ”A different kind of film from the director of M*A*S*H", Robert Altman’s Brewster McCloud (1970) is indeed a giant side-step from his wildly popular war comedy released earlier that same year. It wasn’t a surprising move, given Altman's sudden success after a handful of mostly forgettable films made during the previous two decades beginning with 1957’s The Delinquents. Brewster McCloud can be classified as a “palate-cleanser”: that loose, spontaneous, and often surreal detour made during a stressful or artistically inert period of one’s career (think Martin Scorsese’s After Hours, which is long overdue for a Blu-ray release). And what a surreal slice of cinema Brewster McCloud is, though it’s more of a free-spirited comedy held together with duct tape than some forgotten, cryptic masterpiece.
Take this, you'll need it.
This leads to Brewster McCloud’s other main arc: it’s a hunt for the elusive murderer who seemingly kills at random, with…well, bird shit being the only constant at every crime scene. Hotshot detective Frank Shaft (Michael Murphy), clearly inspired by Steve McQueen in Bullitt, is called in to investigate. The investigation doesn’t really go anywhere, not that it matters: Brewster McCloud is more concerned with distracting and surprising viewers than answering questions or furthering the narrative at all, which spins its wheels at almost every turn. Our title character’s relationship with spunky Astrodome tour guide Suzanne (Shelley Duvall), which goes against the wishes of guardian angel Louise, provides most of the intrigue while other events seemingly unfold at random and with very little closure. Tying everything together -- but just barely -- are breakaway segments featuring “The Lecturer” (René Auberjonois), who compares bird and human behavior while, during the course of the film, slowly changing into a bird himself.
The latter plot device is just one of many examples of Brewster McCloud’s primary flaw: a crippling reliance on running gags that either (a) wear out their welcome from overuse, or (b) aren't all that funny in the first place. Yet other playful gags clearly work in the film's favor; none are better than the fourth-wall-breaking bookend credits, which have a lot of fun toying with expectations that other portions of the film never quite live up to. Brewster McCloud is content with confusing audiences while subverting normality at every turn, which makes it one of the more definitive “your mileage may vary” movies of its era. I can’t admit that the film's quirky, surreal atmosphere completely won me over…but in the right mood, it could easily scratch an itch that most other films rarely attempt to reach.
Warner Archive Collection’s new Blu-ray misses the film's 50th birthday by a year but should please die-hard fans with its excellent 1080p transfer
and lossless audio, even if the bonus features are sorely lacking.
Presented in a 2.40:1 aspect ratio, Brewster McCloud looks great on Warner Archive Collection's new Blu-ray. It's a solid upgrade over their own 2010 DVD and is advertised as a "brand new remaster" on the studio's press release but, more than likely, both are sourced from the same fine-grain master positive. The difference here is a fresh scan and additional clean-up, which eliminates even more pesky dirt and debris without sacrificing film grain and texture: the result is a pleasing and natural image that, like most WAC Blu-rays, represents a best-case scenario for purists. This 1080p transfer is indeed stunning, but it's important to remember that Brewster McCloud looks quite rough around the edges at times: I'm not sure if different film stocks were used for certain scenes, but a handful of shots are much more grainy than others. Any scene with "The Lecturer" (screenshot #6) is a good example, while others like the introduction of Shelley Duvall's character Suzanne (screenshot #10) reveal even higher levels of grain. Bear in mind that WAC typically does not attempt to "improve" source material inconsistencies such as these, and I'd rather see a more raw image than one smoothed over with digital noise reduction. Other stray oddities, such as a few optical push-ins (flat zooms on the film itself, not traditional in-camera zooms), are likewise purposeful decisions and not defects.
As expected, the heightened surrealism of Brewster McCloud makes for a visually interesting palette, such as key props and costumes loaded with bright primaries (especially red) and bright secondary colors like the vivid orange of Suzanne's 1970 Plymouth Road Runner; these, combined with accurate skin tones and naturally-lit exterior shots, give the film quite an attractive appearance at times. Its colors are consistently rich and perfectly saturated without falling victim to bleeding, while the 1080p transfer's stable contrast levels and respectable amount fine detail offer a lot of support to close-ups and mid-range shots alike. Overall, it's an outstanding presentation bordering on flawless; this is hardly surprising given WAC's excellent track record, and certainly good news for die-hard fans of the film.
Likewise, the DTS-HD 2.0 Master Audio retains the film's mono roots and delivers a perfectly accurate presentation. Not surprisingly, the film's off-kilter tone leads to a number of chaos and, while there's not a great deal of depth or direction here, everything remains reasonably well-balanced and intelligible. In contrast, the soundtrack opens up nicely and sounds incredibly dynamic at times; it's a great a mixture of well-known cuts like "Lift Every Voice and Sing" performed by Merry Clayton and "The Star-Spangled Banner" as sung live by Margaret Hamilton, as well as several tracks by John Phillips (lead songwriter of The Mamas & the Papas, who'd just broken up in 1968 but would briefly reunite three years later), The Gene Page Orchestra, and others. Dialogue is crisp and easy to follow; I picked up a few very slight sync issues, but this is likely another source material issue and nothing more. Overall, it's a fine effort that sounds right in line with most films from the era -- fans won't find much to complain about here.
English subtitles are included during the main feature but, like most WAC releases, are formatted in ALL CAPS.
Brewster McCloud includes everything from Warner Archives' 2010 DVD edition...which is to say, not much.
Robert Altman's subversive Brewster McCloud offers more of a loose, free-wheeling experience than a traditional narrative, which shouldn't surprise fans of the director. Intended as a palate-cleanser after the runaway success of M*A*S*H, the film gleefully breaks conventions at every turn and features a handful of memorable characters and performances to boot. While its time-capsule appeal may not fully extend to first-time viewers, those caught off guard by the film's unique appeal should have no problem returning to this strangle little world. Still, I can't say that Brewster McCloud has a great deal of lasting value as anything more than a strangely captivating experiment -- nostalgia can only carry it so far, and the plot is a mess with far too many running jokes. Even so, those swayed by its charms should enjoy Warner Archive Collection's new Blu-ray, which easily overtakes their 2010 DVD in the A/V department with a great 1080p transfer and lossless audio. Easily recommended to established fans, but less so for newcomers.
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