FILM

Bird Shit, Bull Shit

The kid with the wings is Brewster McCloud. He’s got a vision about flying away from this vale of tears on a set of home made wings. Just fly away. So here he is flying about the Houston Astrodome. Below is a squad of fully armed riot cops who would arrest him for murder if they could reach him. Poor kid. It’s so hard to fly away inside the Astrodome.

Brewster McCloud is a composition by Robert Altman and Lou Adler. You know who they are, the M*A*S*H* director and the exMamas and Papa’s producer. Together they have put together a flashy movie which shoves the old knife in to the hilt. It’s sort of a parable, an allegory, or, possibly, a fable. Maybe it’s some of all three. Mostly it’s about bird shit.

Now it’s probably true that a story about bird shit, funny or no, could only come from Hollywood. Tinsel Town is in hard times. Granted. But underneath it all, lots of us’ve got touches of Hollywood. So cool it. And besides, bird shit is 100% organic — which brings me to the topic of primary concern. How many of you, dear readers, have been going about for months embellishing your fantasies with an ecology rap? Without ever actually knowing precisely what you mean by the word. (It’s alright, since you aren’t the only one.) Therefore, in the interest of communication, here is a sufficiently formal denotation. Circle it. It’ll come in handy as ammunition during your next confrontation with a non-believer.

Ecology is “the scientific study of plants and animals in relation to their natural environment. Ecology is concerned with such problems as anatomical and physiological adaptation of living things to environmental conditions, interrelations in plant and animal communities and succession. By succession is meant the series of stages leading to the ultimate establishment of a climax community or climax area . . . Succession is well observed where plant and animal life begin to inhabit land previously bare; it is also observed where the habitat is altered in some way so that it becomes unsuitable for the original species. ” (Source: the good ol’ Columbia Encyclopedia in one volume, 2nd ed., 1950).

Got that? I just thought you should know. Brewster McCloud is a story about a naive boy flyer (Bud Cort); a mysterious and glamorous lady bird (Sally Kellerman); a sporty and unflapable cop from San Francisco named Frank Shaft (Michael Murphy); several murders by strangulation, coincidentalized by the fact that each of the victims is splattered in bird shit; the State of Texas (William Windom and John Shuck); The State of the Union (Bert Remsen, Shelly Duval, G. Wood, William Baldwin, and Stacy Keach); and the state of nature (Rene Aubeijonois and the Astrodome). In other words, Brewster McCloud tells lots of stories on lots of levels. It’s method is to slam you in the head by> being just about, but not quite, crass.

More than anything else, even girls, Brewster wants to fly. He lives in the boiler room of the symbolic dome, sewing wings, doing exercises,' and studying bird muscles. But today; who can fly? According to the rules you have to have the money to take a jet. You don’t just fly off, yourself. That’s immoral — if not illegal. So . the world can’t let Brewster fly; much less understand why he would want to.

Brewster’s teacher and only friend, Sally Kellerman, doesn’t say too much, but the huge scars oh her back — where wings once fit — make her more than human. Perhaps she is a fallen angel? Perhaps a fairy god mother? She had to dispose of her wings to get the job like you sometimes have to dispose of your hair. Whatever she may be, she takes her job very seriously. In fact, her protection is so thorough that it doesn’t ruffle her feathers to dump on a number of highly deserving characters.

One is Stacy Keach, Judy Collins’ man. He plays, with convincing despicability, the 120 year old miserly brother of Orville and Wilbur Wright. He’s got a book on manned flight Brewster needs; so our little non-hero becomes the old bugger’s chauffeur. When Mr. Wright draws his gun on Brewster a hail of birdshit comes to the rescue.

Another is Bert Remsen as the wife beating,,,]peanut brained narc who lusts after Brewster’s high powered stolen camera) After throwing Brewster around, | and threatening to bust him on a topically trumped up one joint possession charge, Remsen is choked to death in, j guano.

And (so it goes. Brewster merely trying tip. make his way through the smog, cijetting ready to fly with the freedom ' of the birds. By chance he meets afji Astrodome guide girl, Shelly Duval. |She’s your average dip-shit, bird-braip teen; very impressed with fast cars dnd boys with big hair. She is also juM coy enough to seduce^ Brewster ^nd seal his fate.

Lying together, Brewster confides that he rhust fly away or they’ll put him in a ; cage. He asks her to fly the coop witm him. Immediately she trips out on the idea that if you can fly, you can also get rich: a caT with chauffeur, a home on River Oaks Blvd. The American hip capitalist dream. Innocent.’!;/, Brewster tells her of the murders. (She freaks, gets rid of him, calls the police, and gives away his hiding place.

Unaware, Brewster has it out with his heavenly mother, and dons his wings for the first flight. But, on his way to the balcony, he runs smack into Shelly kissing the straight arrow she thinks she wants to marry.

Meanwhile, intersperced through the action are cuts of a seedy bird lecturer played to perfection by Rene Aubeijonois. Bearing a remarkable resemblance to Gyro Gearloose, he comments on bird mating habits, several other physical attributes, and, more importantly, on the bird-like characteristics of the players in Brewster’s drama. Fantastically, the lecturer himself becomes progressively flightier as the film develops.

Brewster, betrayed and surrounded by police, has no place to go but up. He flies. At first with difficulty; then stronger. He soars above the wonderous plastic astro turf. However Icarus’ tale is timeless. Brewster’s flight is confined by the ceiling of the Dome.

Think on it. The Astrodome, 8th wonder of the world, an indoors artificial outdoors, clean smogless air and constant temperature. Yet with no room for birds. They are locked out. Brewster is locked in. He can only fly in constrained circles above the waiting arms of the Law.

In the end his strength fails and he plummets to a messy death in the infield. Two bounces and his body is surrounded by the entire cast disguised as the Greatest Show on Earth, the Ringling Brothers Circus. Blythly making merry, they ignore the body.

Like I said, Brewster McCloud is an allegory, a parable and a fable. Depending on where the feathers fall. It’s had its share of critical put downs because its technique is fast paced, slick hip, obvious humor. But contradictions notwithstanding, the yolk is on anybody who doesn’t get it.

Jack Hafferkamp

FILM CLIPS

John Kane

I’ll Never Sing for my Fuckin’ Father Again Dept: 20th Century Fox, along with most of the other major studios, has been experiencing tremendous financial difficulties. Last year, they lost an estimated 20 million dollars, despite such films as M*A*S*H and Butch Cassidy. The board of directors decided it would be best to boot the head of production — Richard F. Zanuck, son of Daryl F. Zanuck, former president and a member of the board. Feeling that the company came before family, Zanuck the elder voted against retaining his son. At last word, R. Zanuck was looking for a job at Warner Bros. A final, nasty note to the whole business is that two of Fox’s biggest recent clinkers — Tora! Toral Tora! and Hello and Goodbye — were produced at the express wish of Daryl F. Zanuck by his faithful son.

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Donovan is gonna make a movie. He’ll star in The Pied Piper of Hamlin, a musical for which he’ll provide the score. Jacques Demy, fondly remembered for Lola and The Umbrellas of Cherbourg, will direct the film, which goes into production in April, with locations set in Germany.

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Speaking of Scottish folksingers, Donovan will also provide the musical score for Franco Zeffirelli’s Brother Sun, Sister Moon, a film based on the youth of Francis of Assisi. In a suspiciously hypy-sounding press release, Zeffirelli, the director of Romeo and Juliet, said, “This 13th century youth searched for fulfillment, just as young people do today. He may well have been history’s first ‘drop out’.”

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Good Vibrations: 20th Century Fox has acquired the distribution rights to Celebration at Big Sur, a filmed record, by Baird Bryand and Johanna Demetrakas, of the recent Big Sur Folk Festival held at the Esalen Institute in California. Joan Baez, Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, Joni Mitchell, Dorothy Morrison and The Combs Sisters, and John Sebastian are among the acts in the film. Look for it at theatres in late spring-early summer.

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Remember Catch-22: Sometimes a big flick comes down the track with so much hype behind it, that it’s impossible for the movie to live up to its reputation. Then everybody gets pissed off, forgets all the genuinely good things that may be in the less than perfect flick, and starts screaming about what a rip-off the whole thing is. This insidious media-rape may be happening to Two Lane Blacktop, the car flick with James Taylor and Dennis Wilson. Ever since Rolling Stone ran a feature on the film, Blacktop has been getting play in almost every major publication. Now Esquire, in an unparalleled move, has termed the film “the best of the year” and published the entire screenplay in its current issue. Hopefully audiences won’t be tired of hearing about the film when it’s released in the summer.

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John Cassavetes, who just finished Husbands, is ready with his next one: Minnie and Moscowitz, described as a contemporary comedy, with Gena Rowlands (Mrs. Cassavetes), Seymour Cassel, and Val Avery — all of whom appeared in Faces — set to star. Principal photography is set to begin t^iis spring, and Universal is footing the bill.

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James Bond is back: Sean Connery, who swore he’d never do it again, will. James Bond, that is. He’ll portray 007 in the upcoming Diamonds Are Forever for release in late 70-early 71 by United Artists. What changed his mind? A salary of $1,000,000 may have had something to do with it. The producers decided to try and wdo back Connery after the last Bond film (with George Lazenby) failed to duplicate the land office business of the previous opuses. Now everybody should be happy except for John Gavin. Gavin, the Rock Hudson look alike who’s made love to such pouting marshmallows as Lana Turner and Sandra Dee in countless Ross Hunter schlock movies, was reportedly set for the Bond role if Connery said no. It could have been the biggest break yet of a generally undistinguished acting career, but there’s some compensation involved at last report. Gavin may play one of the villians in Diamonds.

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Woosome Twosomes: Candice Bergen and Peter Boyle are currently filming T. R. Baskin, under the direction of Herbert Ross. The press release here says that Edgar’s daughter portrays a girl who “goes to Chicago to escape the boredom of small-town life and becomes a secretary in a huge corporation, coming into conflict with the impersonal aspects of society” . . . Meanwhile, Faye Dunaway and Frank Langella have started work on The House Under the Trees, a French suspense melodrama directed by Rene Clement (Rider on the Rain) and written by Ring Lardner Jr. (M*A*S*H) and Eleanor Perry (Diary of a Mad Housewife).

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Don Shebib, whose first feature was the highly praised Goin Down the Road, one of the few Canadian films

to get any sort of distribution in the U.S., has started shooting his second film, entitled Rip-Off. It deals with four freaks and their inability to succeed in rock or as a commune. A serious, independent filmmaker, Shebib is working with a five man crew and a budget of under $300,000.

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Paul Monash and George Roy Hill, the respective producer and director of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, are teaming up again to work on the film version of Kurt Vonnegutt’s Slaughterhouse Five. Shooting has already begun in Germany with a cast of “new faces.” Stephen Geller who wrote She Let Him Continue, which became the memorable Pretty Poison, has done the script.

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Meanwhile, another perennial “youth” favorite is making it onto the screen. Larry Peerce, who directed Goodbye Columbus, is doing the same for A Separate Peace, adapted from the John Knowles novel.

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Richard Benjamin has pulled down — or pulled off — one of the major roles of the year: the lead in Portnoy’s Complaint, which screenwriter Ernest Lehman will direct for Warner Bros, starting in May. Karen Black will portray the infamous Monkey.

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It’s Not How Long You Make It... : In line with the above below the belt note, we should mention that Eva Meyer, ex-wife of Russ Meyer, and collaborator on many of his skin flick epics, has a new film of her own ready for release. It’s called Pinocchio and it’s about a modern day bachelor who lies just like ole Pinoke used to. Only, since this is an X rated flick, it’s not his nose that grows.