The late, first-rate filmmaker Robert Altman delighted in the skewering of all things authoritative, pompous or staid. With a white hot machete. NEVER is this particular predilection more prominent than in the completely unhinged and unfathomable Boy Becomes Bird farce "Brewster McCloud".
I'm not even gonna try to break it down for ya, guys. I couldn't possibly do it justice.
So a couple things here if you'll indulge me.
Growing up in Houston, Texas at the time this movie was made inherently makes the use of The Astrodome and adjacent AstroWorld as primary settings even more dear among the treasured memories of my childhood, especially now that they are each defunct.
And the ending. Oh, this glorious Altmanesque ending. You, like me, will be hard pressed to recall any cinematic conclusion more zealously zany, chaotically cacophonous, deliciously dark or brazenly bizarro.
It is Bob at his best.
I'm not even gonna try to break it down for ya, guys. I couldn't possibly do it justice.
So a couple things here if you'll indulge me.
Growing up in Houston, Texas at the time this movie was made inherently makes the use of The Astrodome and adjacent AstroWorld as primary settings even more dear among the treasured memories of my childhood, especially now that they are each defunct.
And the ending. Oh, this glorious Altmanesque ending. You, like me, will be hard pressed to recall any cinematic conclusion more zealously zany, chaotically cacophonous, deliciously dark or brazenly bizarro.
It is Bob at his best.