Taken solely on the merits of what’s onscreen, M*A*S*H is a smart – often biting – satire of war and the military, packed with outrageous characters and disrespectful attitudes toward rules and authority. It’s also a fascinating piece of cinema, using unusual – for 1970 – techniques such as overlapping dialogue and the use of a zoom lens to cut through the hive of activity that is a mobile army surgical hospital (the meaning of the acronym ‘MASH’) and focus in on the gruesome activities underway at one operating table.
But there’s a second – even more impressive – way to appreciate M*A*S*H – considering it in the context of its time. Ostensibly about the exploits of military doctors near the front lines of the Korean War, the film is as strong an anti-Vietnam War statement as one could imagine a politically-conservative Hollywood studio releasing in 1970 – not long after U.S. anti-war protests had reached their peak. It’s remarkable how the almighty dollar can overcome even politics, as you can bet that Robert Altman’s masterpiece would never have made it onscreen if not for the enthusiastic response of audiences at test screenings that went ahead despite the doubts of 20th Century Fox executives and screenwriter Ring Lardner Jr., who felt that Altman had ruined his script by turning it into a chaotic improvised mess of a film. M*A*S*H might have been subversive, but it was also big money – turning a three million dollar studio investment into an $80 million box office success.
Improvised? Definitely. Messy? Yes. Ruined? Most definitely not. The film underwent a remarkable metamorphosis in two stages: Lardner’s transformation of a slight military comedy (the Richard Hooker novel) into a much darker, blood-soaked story; and, Altman’s further shifting of the material into the form of a rambunctious, highly political satire. Korea is barely ever mentioned in the film, as Altman had his eyes squarely on the Vietnam conflict during its making. And while the anti-war statement is unmistakeable from start to finish, this is as much a late 1960s/ early ‘70s social statement as it is an anti-war film. From the film’s first moments, when freshly drafted military doctors ‘Hawkeye’ Pierce (Donald Sutherland) and ‘Duke’ Forrest (Tom Skerritt) steal a jeep to travel to the MASH 4077th hospital near the front lines, the film – and its characters – are thumbing their noses at authority. Hawkeye, Duke and the later-arriving ‘Trapper John’ McIntyre (Elliott Gould) rule the roost at the 4077th. When they’re in the operating room, they’re skilled surgeons and life-saving professionals; the rest of the time, they’re sanity-preserving partiers – distracting themselves from the horrors of war by drinking, carousing, womanizing and tormenting the few bureaucrats and regular army types that are around them – principally Major Frank Burns (Robert Duvall) and head nurse ‘Hot Lips’ Houlihan (Sally Kellerman).
The film is undeniably a hodgepodge of scenes showing life at the 4077th. It’s at its best in the operating room and showing day-to-day life in the camp. Scenes set in Japan and at a morale-boosting football game – although still very funny – really don’t fit in particularly well, providing more of a distraction from the film’s point than anything else.
That M*A*S*H inspired one of television’s most successful and long-running programs of all-time is but a footnote in history, as the movie – even more than three decades later – remains as sharp and fresh and relevant as it was on the day of its initial release. Altman went on to make several more important ensemble cast films such as Nashville, The Player and Gosford Park, but none has had more impact than this memorable cinematic concoction.
