M*A*S*H - DVD review

My guess is that more people today would recognize the name MASH from the hit television series than from the original 1970 motion picture on which it's based. Which is a bit unfortunate. If you're among the TV show's multitude of fans but don't know much about its progenitor, you may be surprised at how much edgier and daring the dark movie comedy is than the long-running TV show that put asterisks in the title. MASH, the movie, was pretty daring for its time and continues to be one of the best antiwar films ever to come out of Hollywood. The Fox studios do it up right in one of their two-disc, Five-Star editions, with plenty of bonus materials to keep one busy for days.

The first time I saw MASH, I didn't know quite what to think of it. I had the opportunity to see it at a sneak preview in San Francisco with many of the filmmakers in attendance. Afterwards, they gave you one of those little cards to fill out, asking what you thought of the picture. I remember saying I loved the film's black humor and its antiwar stance, but I wasn't used to all the blood of the operating room. We didn't see this much blood thirty-odd years ago even in a horror flick. It took me a few more viewings to understand the importance of those grisly scenes, to see that this may have been a funny and entertaining look at war, but it was a realistic look at war, too. The blood brought the story back to earth, back to the harsh, grim realities of war, where people didn't die cleanly as they had in previous war movies but died blood-soaked and miserable.

The movie is based on a comic novel by Richard Hooker, but its actual creators are screenwriter Ring Lardner, Jr., and director Robert Altman. The Vietnam War was at the height of controversy in 1970, and Lardner and Altman wanted to make sure their audience saw the connections between the fictional senselessness of their 1950 story in Korea and the real-life senselessness of Vietnam and all wars in general. Audiences of every persuasion, doves and hawks alike, were drawn to the film, mesmerized by its combination of audacious humor, likable characters, and naturalistic operating-theater action. Seeing those wounded, mangled casualties of war becomes an integral part of the picture. Altman said he was trying to couple that with comedy in the worst possible taste, comedy about death and dying, hypocrisy and suicide. One of the set's accompanying documentaries calls "MASH" an "outrageous assault on the absurdities of war," a phrase well taken.

The wildly uneven and episodic plot is divided into six major sections, held together to a good degree by the continuous camp announcements made via loudspeaker. The movie's first section is our introduction to the characters. The ensemble cast, encouraged to improvise as much as possible, couldn't be better. Donald Sutherland stars as Captain "Hawkeye" Pierce; Elliott Gould is Captain "Trapper" John McIntyre; Tom Skerritt is Captain Duke Forrest; Sally Kellerman is Major Margaret "Hot Lips Houlihan; Robert Duvall is Major Frank Burns; Jo Ann Pflug is Lt. Maria "Dish" Schneider; René Auberjonois is Father "Dago Red" Mulcahy; Roger Bowen is Colonel Henry Blake; Gary Burghoff (the only carryover to the TV series) is Corporal "Radar" O'Reilly; John Schuck is Captain Walter "Painless Pole" Waldowski; Michael Murphy is Captain "Me Lay" Marston; Fred Williamson is Captain Oliver "Spearchucker" Jones; and David Arkin is Staff Sergeant Vollmer. It's an ideal cast, none of whom were ever bettered in the television show.

Part two involves the relationship between the hypocritical Major Burns and the uptight Major Houlihan, ending in the infamous broadcast sequence, Burns's breakdown, and Houlihan's unveiling. Part three is about the sexually prodigious Painless Pole's insistence that he's suddenly become "a fairy," and the notorious "Last Supper" that puts him straight. Part four is the Japan adventure, Hawkeye and Trapper being sent to the island to operate on a Congressman's son and finding time for a few rounds of golf besides. It's probably in this episode that we see most clearly why the doctors are able to get away with as much as they do.

Doctors were among the most necessary components of the war, and they knew it; thus, rules and regulations were more lax where they were concerned. Flaunting authority and spoofing the military are paramount issues in the picture. Part five is the film's climactic football game between the 4077th MASH and a rival company. The game is an obvious metaphor for the war itself and its infantile but deadly battles. And we're reminded at this point, too, that the army wasn't seriously well-integrated racially in 1950, and the film reflects this condition. Like all the sequences in the film, Altman fills every frame with a multitude of action, so much so that a second and third viewing are necessary just to catch it all. Finally, the film ends with the goings home and the fond farewells, not all of them tearful.

Video:
The picture is presented in its original theatrical aspect ratio, about 2.13:1 across a normal television set. The print is a new high-definition THX transfer painstakingly restored and color matched to the source material. Interestingly, Altman used several filters to achieve the desaturated colors he wanted throughout the majority of the film, so you'll find most of the hues purposely faded looking, right up until the football sequence, which suddenly comes alive with brilliant colors. Apparently, Altman wanted the movie's visual image to match the film's content and theme in tone and accomplished the task nicely. Don't be dismayed, then, by the slightly washed-out look of the film's first three-quarters; there's design behind everything Altman does, even when it doesn't look like it.

Audio:
Likewise, the audio may also at first blush appear less than ideal. It's meant to be that way. Altman wanted to capture the sounds of real people in real conversations, so he encouraged the use of overlapping dialogue and miked each of the actors separately. The result is somewhat thin, nasal, and rough by the standards of audiophile sonics, but it is quite natural by the standards of human hearing. What's more, Fox engineers have taken the original three-track monaural sound and not only restored it but opened it up to stereo. It's rather limited stereo, of course, but it does give the audio a broader, more expansive quality. For purists, Fox also offer the film's mono soundtrack.

Extras:
The two DVDs in the set contain quite a lot of material, so let me start with disc one, where you'll find the film itself, plus several excellent bonuses. The first bonus is an audio commentary with director Robert Altman, whose quiet, sparing, yet highly informative notes are a lesson in economy. Next, there's a twenty-four-minute documentary, "Backstory: The Making of MASH," which contains the usual assortment of filmmaker interviews. Then, there's a still gallery, a THX Optimode series of audiovisual calibration tests, a healthy forty chapter selections, and a widescreen trailer. English and French are offered for spoken language options, with English only for subtitles.

Disc two includes four documentary items, all of them worthwhile. The first is a forty-minute feature called "Enlisted: The Story of MASH," which contains even more filmmaker interviews than the documentary on the first disc. Some of it may seem redundant, but you'll learn more about MASH than you could ever hope for. The second, forty-four-minute feature, "MASH: Comedy Under Fire," documents the lives of some of the real doctors and nurses serving in Korea during the war. The third feature is a half-hour bit called "MASH Reunion," a filming of Fox's July, 2000, Legacy Award show honoring Altman. Most of the old cast reassembled to talk and reminisce on stage about their experiences making the film. Finally, there's a segment on the restoration of the picture and sound on this new transfer of MASH, complete with before-and-after comparisons.

Parting Thoughts:
For a low-budget film, MASH did all right for itself, especially considering its relatively unknown director at the time and its relatively unknown stars. It managed to win an Academy Award for its screenwriter, Ring Lardner, Jr., who had long before been blacklisted in Hollywood for his stand against McCarthyism. Ironically, the film almost got an X rating for a single instance of the "F" word (how times change!), and Lardner complained early on that Altman had changed or deleted most of his script. I suppose the Oscar helped assuage his feelings. Furthermore, the movie was nominated for Best Picture, Best Supporting Actress (Sally Kellerman), Best Director, and Best Film Editing (Danford B. Greene). This is a hard comedy to resist.