Some premises are so absurd, that they usually circle the spectrum of logic and start to make perfect sense, becoming oddly plausible and wildly entertaining. When George Barr McCutcheon wrote Brewster’s Millions in the early 20th century, we have to wonder whether he anticipated it becoming a story that would inspire over a dozen films, television and radio adaptations, but it isn’t difficult to discern exactly why this has become one of the most unconventionally cherished pieces of comedic storytelling of the past century. The idea of a down-on-their-luck protagonist being allowed to inherit an enormous fortune, with the caveat being that they have to spend a small portion of that fortune in the span of only a few days to prove that they are worthy of the bigger inheritance, is a premise to which we can all relate in some way or another, even if only through the absurdly fantastical details that drive this story. The definitive film version of the story is difficult to pinpoint. Still, the one that is arguably most popular (perhaps due to its recency and the presence of very familiar stars) is the adaptation written by Timothy Harris Herschel Weingrod and helmed by Walter Hill, who was briefly positioned as a comedic director after the success of 48 Hours made it clear that he was as adept at humour as he was action. However, this would be arguably a short-lived development in his varied career. His version of Brewster’s Millions is often considered one of the very best, if only because it is the one that most people have seen, as well as being the most accessible and easy to follow since the blend of famous actors and an unfurnished approach to the narrative makes it an effortlessly funny comedy that has stood the test of time quite well, and proves to be one of the many charming comedies produced during this era, even with some significant flaws. 

The sheer number of stories written on the perils of capitalism is far too many to count, and considering McCutcheon wrote the novel right at the peak of America’s growth into the free market, which was counteracted by the growth in alternative methods of making money (such as the recent publication of the Communist Manifesto), there is something to be said about how this film handles some of its more tricky material. Every director that has taken on this text has been met with the curious detail that the concept of capitalism is not easy to navigate, nor can it be hidden under layers of additional commentary on other subjects, since this theme is front-and-centre, and bears very little chance of being sidetracked by additional conversations on perhaps slightly more accessible themes. For a film produced in the mid-1980s, Brewster’s Millions comes at quite an opportune moment – the country was undergoing tumultuous changes both politically and culturally, and the free market was deeply affected by this, which makes the idea of a sadsack somehow managing to come into an enormous fortune fertile ground for satire, since the absurdity of the premise is enough to keep us engaged and entertained, even when the overall experience is slightly more uneven. I am reluctant to call this a revolutionary story, since it is very simple and doesn’t do much in terms of conveying too much social commentary outside of its kooky premise, but it is obvious that a few boundaries were being pushed – perhaps in 1985, the idea of a sardonic commentary that portrays the free market as a scam driven by opportunistic villains that plan to just make themselves richer is not particularly notable (and even less so watching it in the 21st century, where our incredulity towards these institutions continues to blossom), but it does make for a very funny film and one that is best viewed in isolation as a product of its time, rather than one that intends to convey a deeper message in a concise and forthright manner.

There were discussions to bring Brewster’s Millions to the screen again a few years before Hill was given the reins, with Peter Bogdanovich initially being entrusted with this material, which he intended to direct (and considering he was one of the few New Hollywood directors that not only implicitly understood screwball and slapstick, but was able to successful recreate it), only for his version to shift to the one we received eventually. It isn’t clear who was courted to star in the film at the start, but it was an interesting choice to cast Richard Pryor, although not an unexpected one – he had led several hilarious comedies in the 1980s, and was a bankable star, someone who could draw in a wide range of viewers based entirely on his popularity and the fact that he had almost universal appeal. His performance in Brewster’s Millions is arguably not his strongest, since it essentially requires him to do nothing but react to the madness that surrounds him, which is very funny in the context of the story, but not much of an opportunity for him to showcase his acting skills. Despite what was asked of him, Pryor still finds ways to develop this character, forming Montgomery Brewster into such a wonderfully eccentric protagonist, someone whose journey we are keen to follow, even when it becomes incredibly bizarre. He is joined by the consistently wonderful John Candy, who is great in the film despite having a relatively thankless role – the character of Spike Nolan doesn’t serve much of a purpose other than being Brewster’s eccentric sidekick, and while this is a legitimate archetype we would expect in such a film, Candy is slightly wasted – he exists the film after two-thirds have elapsed, and simply doesn’t return, which makes the happy ending feel slightly disingenuous, since the one truly sympathetic character in the film has essentially disappeared, replaced instead by the love interest getting the victory lap alongside the protagonist. The performances are great, but they are slightly betrayed by the story, which doesn’t give them much to do outside of following the same conventional narrative paths.

However, as entertaining as it may be, Brewster’s Millions does have its shortcomings, and they can sometimes feel like they are derailing the overall goodwill accumulated from an edgier story. This is not a film that always has its ideas neatly compacted, and one has to wonder whether Hill was the right choice to direct the film, since despite having success with the genre previously, he was not naturally predisposed to comedy (and it is not surprising that except the sequel to 48 Hrs., that this would be the final time he made a comedy – he was not someone who viewed himself as being particularly strong when it comes to films driven by humour, which is understandable), and we can only imagine what a director with a more solid footing in comedy may have been able to achieve with this material. The small but noticeable flaws that become clear as we work our way through this film mainly have to do with the fact that there is far too much going on – the story is intentionally quite zany, and the original novel is partially to blame since it is inarguably a madcap story that moves quite rapidly, so it is difficult to blame the filmmakers for whatever minor flaws can be found narratively. A story that moves too fast and has too much to say is going to become confusing after a while, and we lose the emotional resonance that should be present, but ultimately proves to not be all that effective, essentially rendering itself as slightly disappointing, at least on a narrative level. However, Brewster’s Millions does compensate for these flaws through its active attempts to find meaning in unexpected places – it may be quite predictable (since there was very little chance this film would not have a happy ending). Still, it does add a few fascinating details that provide nuance and complexity, much more than we may have initially expected based on the premise.

Brewster’s Millions is by no means a perfect film – if anything, its simplicity is a slight burden, since there is something quite inconsistent about how this film approaches some of its subject matter, which isn’t always as well-constructed as it perhaps ought to have been, given the potential of the material. However, regardless of how we perceive this film and what it represents, there is clearly something special about how Hill tells this story, and the results are understandably quite strong, even if the surrounding subject matter isn’t always as straightforward as other versions. It can feel quite inconsistent at times, and it doesn’t always pay sufficient tribute to many of its ideas, which creates an uneasy atmosphere, and one that doesn’t feel like it is offering much of a satisfactory ending, despite the very clear attempts to make those final moments feel triumphant. Hill is a fine director but not someone who understands the rhythms of comedy, and his approach to humour often feels stagnant and unmoving, and mostly depends on the work being done by Pryor and Candy to entertain us, which is a logical but still quite lazy choice. As a whole, Brewster’s Millions is a middling film with a lot of charm but a few shortcomings that prevent it from being brilliant. It has strong ideas and is technically quite good, but the overall nature of the story is not one that ever really feels like we are given the experience we deserve with this material. Overall, it has its moments and it is doubtlessly very entertaining, but for the most part, it is far too inconsistent to live up to the radical potential embedded within the story.