Misunderstood Masterpieces: The Man With Two Brains

Posted by Will Helm on 04.19.2005

…or, Where the Educational Content Goes up to Eleven

The inner workings of the human body, known specifically as anatomy, were a source of great mystery for researchers and doctors throughout history. Hippocrates, the Greek “father of medicine,” was a decidedly slipshod anatomist. Centuries later, Galen of Pergamon took up Hippocrates’ – and his contemporaries’ – works and, coupled with his own investigations, created a theoretical anatomy of the human body that, while groundbreaking for its time, was filled largely with incorrect and false assumptions. The academic community accepted Galen’s discoveries as infallible and, hand in hand with the rise of Christianity, his theories held sway for more than a millennium. In 1543, however, everything changed with one book: De Humanis Corporis Fabrica (On the Fabric of the Human Body), by Andreas Vesalius. Widely considered the “father of modern medicine,” Vesalius renewed dissection as the primary means of research in the field of anatomy and, most significantly, revised, corrected, and elaborated upon Galen’s initial works. It is through Vesalius that all discoveries since stem, and for that, he is well remembered.

Among the anatomical parts of the human body, one has towered over all others in importance and significance: the human brain. To the ancient Egyptians, early experts in surgery and medicine, the brain was merely a source of mucus and was pulled out and discarded during their mummification process. It was much later that the brain was identified as the center of thought and action and one of the most integral organs of the human body. With that, the sciences of neurology and psychology sprang forth to treat the physical and cognitive ailments of this most powerful organ. Straddling both, however, especially with the dawn of transplantation, is one great conundrum: the successful transplantation of the human brain, and all personality traits and mental acuity with it. While science has ignored the matter for the most part, the subject has been mulled over in such media as novels, short stories, television shows, and – of course – films. A regular staple of horror and science fiction, the idea of brain transplantation finds its most significant moment as the central theme behind, of all things, a comedy: 1983’s The Man with Two Brains. Starring – appropriately – the “thinking-man’s comedian” Steve Martin and directed by frequent Mel Brooks (who also touched on brain transplantation in Young Frankenstein) collaborator Carl Reiner, whose son, Rob, directed This Is Spinal Tap . . . which would explain the seemingly incongruous paraphrase at the start of this column, The Man with Two Brains, simply from the title, seems worthy of the title of Misunderstood Masterpiece. Is it? Time will tell . . . and that time is now!

Just so you know this is the ‘80s, the opening credits are brought to you by Spencer Gifts, since they seem to emanate from one of those sparking plasma globe thingees that were so de rigueur back in the day. Nowadays, you can get them for $30 or so, which greatly reduces the coolness factor. In some random hospital, probably in Los Angeles, Dr. Michael Hfuhruhurr spazzes out during a routine brain surgery. After the operation, Dr. Mike (because you’re crazy if you think I’m typing “Hfuhruhurr” over and over again) chats with some reporter guy on the drive home. Elsewhere, Kathleen Turner feeds some wealthy guy his pet fish. In return, he threatens her with a fireplace poker. Back to Dr. Mike, he dictates a quite egotistical interview with the reporter guy. We then cut back to Kathleen Turner, who is quite upset that she’s been written out of the wealthy guy’s will. And back to Dr. Mike, who freaks out about his dead wife and beats up his steering wheel. And now over to Kathleen Turner, who is overjoyed by the fact that she can induce heart attacks in wealthy men, as she does to her . . . husband? AND we join Dr. Mike during his freak out, already in progress, which culminates in him staring at a creepy doll – which is supposed to represent his wife – on the dashboard. At this rate, the editor is going to have a broken neck! Oddly enough, that’d be much like Kathleen Turner, who finds herself unceremoniously run over by a quite perturbed and distracted Dr. Mike. Dr. Mike, falling in love with an unconscious Kathleen Turner, tells some little girl to call the hospital; the little girl, before doing her allotted deed, criticizes Dr. Mike’s neurological skills, which angers him unmercifully.

At the hospital, some administrator guy tells Dr. Mike that he shouldn’t operate, due to ethical considerations and all that. Dr. Mike refuses to heed the administrator guy’s warning; so, he’s to blame for the degradation of ethics! Damn you, Dr. Hfuhruhurr! After washing up and preparing for surgery, Dr. Mike finds two orderlies – one of which is cult horror icon Jeff “I’m not Puffy” Combs – performing a little impromptu pubic grooming on Kathleen Turner, in honor of Valentine’s Day. Later, during the operation, a bevy of doctors and The Village People watch Dr. Mike work his magic. Yes . . . I said “a bevy of doctors.” Why? Dr. Mike finishes the operation without a hitch and Kathleen Turner, who we now know as Dolores Benedict, wakes up in recovery, where love blooms between her and Dr. Mike.

Later, back at home, Dr. Mike studies Dolores’ x-rays . . . in a very erotic manner. I have to wonder just what he’s doing at her bedside, then. Anyway, Dr. Mike, looking for a little guidance regarding his ethical conundrum, consults his dead wife’s portrait looking for advice. Later, Dr. Mike recites poetry to Dolores back at the hospital. Dolores, in return, grabs the top of Dr. Mike’s pants, much to his delight. I do hope she has her fine motor skills back, though; you don’t want her to pull something off with a mistimed reflex action. Or even kung-fu battle grip. Later, after Dolores regains full consciousness in her lace hospital gown, Dr. Mike gives her a book of poetry; Dolores, meanwhile, “laments” the death of the wealthy guy. She consoles herself by utilizing the wonder of the Craftmatic adjustable bed to make out with Dr. Mike. Back at home, the painting of Dr. Mike’s dead wife freaks out, but he’s oblivious to her otherworldly concerns, since he and Dolores later marry in the hospital.

After their medically tinged nuptials, Dr. Mike brings Dolores home with him and, romantically, carries her over the threshold. And then he stands there. For a few days. Later, over breakfast, Dolores watches Merv Griffin while Dr. Mike wants to watch some old horror movie that has to do with a brain. Fitting, wouldn’t you say? Dolores, confined to a wheelchair since her unfortunate ordeal, is quite tired of her situation; her outlook perks up, however, when she looks out the window and spies a hunky gardener. Hmm . . . Desperate Housewives, twenty-one years ahead of time? The sight of the virile, probably illegal immigrant inspires Dolores to get up . . . probably with thoughts of getting the gardener up as well. Dr. Mike, moments later, finds Dolores on the floor and he’s elated by her attempt to walk. Dolores, meanwhile, asks Dr. Mike about the hunky gardener; he replies earnestly, since he’s still totally oblivious to her evil ways.

Back at the hospital, Dr. Mike appears to be losing his mind, since he and Dolores have yet to consummate their marriage, much to the consternation of the administrator guy. At home, meanwhile, Dolores has the gardener check her bush – it probably does need some upkeep after what the orderlies did to it – and then she fires his boss to cover up for her infidelity. Later, Dolores tells Dr. Mike that the gardener’s boss fondled her . . . and his dead wife! While she was still alive, of course. She then adds some moxie to her ruse by confessing that she really “wants” to be a good wife. Well . . . good for nothing, perhaps. Yet again at the hospital, Dr. Mike performs two brain surgeries at once, just because Dolores wants him home soon. He returns to her to find her clad only in a towel; she gets changed into something more comfortable and revealing, which only excites Dr. Mike further. She nearly engages foreplay, but she backs off, stating that she “has a headache.” Hmm . . . I’ll be Dr. Mike does as well, although in a much different head.

Over at the hospital, Dr. Mike meets with the administrator guy; the administrator guy is extremely concerned, as it seems that Dr. Mike is now on edge and literally running up the wall. The administrator, being a helpful fellow, suggests a honeymoon for the two lovebirds, in particular to Austria. Dr. Mike, believing that a little Viennese romance would do his marriage good, agrees, so he and Dolores jet off to Vienna, hopefully so he can finally give her his sausage. Get it? Vienna . . . sausage? Oh, never mind. Once there, however, it seems to be more of the same, as Dolores hits on the desk clerk while Dr. Mike plots out exactly what he’s going to do to his wife once their in the room together . . . out loud. Eww. More than I needed to know, Dr. Mike; more than I needed to know. Up in the room, it’s STILL more of the same, as Dr. Mike and Dolores don’t copulate.

Perhaps in order to satiate his sexual frustration, Dr. Mike meets with some Austrian professor . . . the professor is FROM Austria, he doesn’t TEACH Austrian. The Austrian professor – EXPOSITION WARNING – states that there’s a killer on the loose, targeting elevator passengers around the city. Not to worry, though, as there are no killers at the local college, where Dr. Mike gives a lecture regarding his novel method of brain surgery. The crowd, perhaps unbelieving, murmurs while Dr. Mike describes the absurd process more fully; his demonstration goes awry, however, when lemons, rather than brain matter, fall out of the helpfully provided cadaver’s skull. Meanwhile, suspiciously, the bad guy from Tron (David Warner) sneaks out of the proceedings. I guess he’s going to go and input his findings into the MCP.

Later, Dr. Mike meets with that very same bad guy from Tron, Dr. Alfred Necessiter. Dr. Necessiter is skeptical of Dr. Mike’s credentials, since Dr. Necessiter sees HIMSELF as the greatest and most ground-breaking neurosurgeon in the world. Dr. Mike, quite put out by his rival’s statements, attempts to prove himself to the nonbeliever by producing a plethora of newspaper clippings, which he helpfully has stapled to the inside of his suit jacket. Dr. Necessiter, impressed by Dr. Mike’s gift for mixing fashion and scrapbooking, offers to show Dr. Mike his laboratory. If this were any other kind of movie, you’d think he was coming on to Dr. Mike. Unless that’s how scientists hit on each other:

Hey baby. Mind if I take a core sample of you?
You make my hair stand up like a Van de Graff generator . . . as well as other things.
Wanna see if we can warp time and space . . . in bed?

Eww.

Anyway, after some random old lady (Estelle Reiner . . . Carl’s wife) gets killed in an elevator, Dr. Mike goes to Dr. Necessiter’s evil . . . condominium? Well, it’s not all that it seems, as Dr. Necessiter has the appropriate creepy castle décor inside. Hmm . . . I wonder if you can get that at IKEA. Dr. Necessiter, proud of the interior design work, shows off the place; the grand tour culminates in Dr. Necessiter’s lovely collection of jarred brains. Mmm . . . I hear that’s a delicacy in some countries; Cantonese cuisine, I believe. Oh, wait; it’s not really some sort of bizarre aspic collection, but actual real live human brains! Dum-dum-DUM! It seems that Dr. Necessiter wants to spearhead research on brain transference, so he’s started himself, in his apartment. Good for him. Everyone likes a self-starter. Unfortunately, Dr. Necessiter’s specimens require a very specific method of death: injection with Windex. Luckily for the good doctor – or evil doctor . . . we’re not sure which – the aforementioned “elevator killer” uses that very same modus operandi. Hmm . . . at this point, one would suspect something. More on that later.

Dr. Mike, a bit disturbed by Dr. Necessiter’s work, argues with his friendly rival about murder and medical ethics. Their lively debate is broken up, however, once Mrs. Necessiter starts yelling for them to shut up. Dr. Necessiter then, to help convince Dr. Mike of the efficacy of his methods, makes a shocking revelation: he has a colleague of Dr. Mike’s in the back, who was once believed dead! Before he can actually show Dr. Mike the results of the experiment, the phone rings, interrupting Dr. Necessiter’s triumphant monologue moment. It seems that the mysterious medical man has to go over to the morgue to pick up a fresh brain, so he saves the demonstration for later. Poor Dr. Mike; you just know all that brain talk was making him excited. Wait . . . anxious. I mean anxious.

Anyway, speaking of getting excited, back at the hotel, Dolores shows off her derriere to some Freud-looking guy. Dr. Mike jumps out of the elevator and then finds Dolores and quasi-Sigmund fooling around; Dr. Mike, rightfully, breaks up the cuckolding. Dolores responds by admitting that she wants to earn some money for herself . . . seemingly as a hooker. Dr. Mike, mad as a March hare, fake divorces Dolores, much to her chagrin. Later, Dr. Mike returns to Dr. Necessiter’s evil condominium; meanwhile, Dolores discovers that Dr. Mike has just inherited a good deal of money from his now-dead grandmother. Hmm . . . I wonder if Dr. Mike will start carrying around a doll of her too. Anyway, back at Dr. Necessiter’s condo of doom, Dr. Mike – oddly enough – talks to the doll of his dead wife . . . and then he starts singing to it. And, in a very freaky turn of events, it starts singing back! Whoa . . . now I know why Sigmund Freud made a guest appearance earlier; who knew neurologists had so many psychological problems? Well isn’t it ironic? Don’t you think?

To my relief, as well as Dr. Mike’s, it’s not the doll that’s doing the singing, but one of Dr. Necessiter’s disembodied brains (Sissy Spacek). Whew. And I was worried for a second there. Dr. Mike, now curious about the identity of the noisy brain, has a chat with it . . . and love blooms. Yeah. Dr. Mike performs the unenviable task of explaining the situation to the brain, but the brain instantly becomes the most likable character in the picture when it EXPOSES THE ABSURDITY OF THE ENTIRE FILM UP TO THAT POINT! Wow. There’s nothing like a disembodied brain for speaking for the sensibilities of the viewer. Thank you, brain. Dr. Mike hypothesizes that it’s actually telepathy going on between them. Charles Xavier would be proud. As if on cue, Dr. Necessiter enters the scene; in order to demonstrate that there is a communicating brain among his collection, Dr. Mike has the brain sing. Dr. Necessiter, surprisingly, can’t hear it, much to Dr. Mike’s amazement. I’d be amazed too if one of my crackpot theories was actually proven to be true. Although . . . do the rest of the uncommunicative brains serve as the control group? I’m just wondering.

Moments later, continuing a plotline from earlier in the film, Dr. Necessiter finally shows off his experiment: he put Dr. Mike’s colleague’s brain into a gorilla. Well, not the physical brain per se, but all functions and personal traits relating to the brain. Good for him. He gets a cookie. Well, maybe only half a cookie, as it’s not a gorilla at all, but the ubiquitous symbol for low-budget comedy apes: a guy in a gorilla suit. Who knew Trading Places and The Incredible Shrinking Woman could have such influence over filmmaking? The gorilla – or guy wearing the gorilla suit – waves at Dr. Mike, so he instantly surmises that it is, indeed, his colleague residing in the primate’s cranium.

With this in mind – ha ha! Get it? “Mind”? I’m so funny! – Dr. Mike returns to the hotel, only to find a suicide note taped to a low-hanging chandelier. He also finds Dolores outside . . . on the ledge. She’s “upset,” so Dr. Mike fake remarries her . . . which probably doesn’t really mean anything, since he only fake divorced her earlier in the picture. He then, somehow, licks his palms and suctions his hands to the wall, allowing him to climb over and rescue Dolores from her precipitous perch. After joining with Dolores along the ledge, they climb back in the same method to their room’s window. Back inside the room, she wants to get it on – I guess perilous situations excite her – so Dr. Mike strips comically. Moments later, perhaps seconds later, Dr. Mike revels in the afterglow while Dolores sleeps . . . and then she sleep-punches him in the face. Dane Cook would be proud. Dr. Mike, perhaps knocked into a state of greater consciousness by Dolores’ right hook, hears the sad whimpering of the disembodied brain.

Later, after surreptitiously escaping from Dolores’ clutches, Dr. Mike returns to Dr. Necessiter’s, but the butler (The Jeffersons’ Paul Benedict) unceremoniously slams the door in his face. After a brief moment’s pause, the butler reconsiders the situation and allows Dr. Mike to enter; Dr. Mike distracts the butler with a drink request, simply so that he can break into the laboratory to pilfer the brain! Dr. Mike tries to open the door, but he simply succeeds in falling through, as it is nothing but Styrofoam. The butler, astute as always, reveals that everything about the condominium is fake; hmm . . . I guess they did get that from IKEA then. Once in the laboratory, Dr. Mike thinks that Dr. Necessiter has moved the brain to another gorilla, but it’s just merely in some sort of bizarre machine. Dr. Mike, overcome with love . . . or madness, takes the brain and puts it in his closet in the hotel room. I do hope the maid doesn’t find that in there; then again, there are probably plenty of dead hookers between the mattresses, so what’s one brain between friends?

After Dr. Mike returns to his bedroom, Dolores wakes up . . . and she wants breakfast! Meanwhile, he wants to stay in Austria, so it’s a wash. Dolores, in turn, wants the room-service guy, so everything really evens out. Later, Dr. Mike drives out to the country and meets with the guy from Babe (James Cromwell), who is a helpful Austrian realtor. Sadly, that means he won’t have an opportunity to say “that’ll do, pig.” Dr. Mike, satisfied with the accommodations, hastens back to Vienna to pick up Dolores to bring her back out to the country. Later, at the cottage, Dolores passes time while Dr. Mike talks baseball with the brain. After the sporting discussion concludes, Dr. Mike joins Dolores in bed; she wants to get it on, but his libido is suddenly workman-like with her. Hmm . . . I guess the thrill is gone, eh? B.B. King would be proud.

The next day, Dolores is quite bored, so she goes to town, leaving Dr. Mike to take a romantic rowboat cruise with the brain. The brain, perhaps quite enamored with Dr. Mike, wants to make out, so he sticks some wax lips he procured to her jar. You know something? I really never understood the appeal of wax lips and wax confections and such. I must admit I see nothing appetizing about a candle, so why would I want to chew on one? Anyway, while Dr. Mike makes out with the jar, Dolores, infuriated, watches from the shore. Later, Dolores confronts Dr. Mike about his bit of hanky panky with a disembodied brain. She thinks there’s something weird going on. Hmm . . . you don’t say? Thank you, Captain Obvious. Dolores reveals that she is – shockingly – jealous of the attention Dr. Mike heaps on the brain; Dr. Mike, before he can respond, is interrupted by a phone call revealing that he is, indeed, to inherit fifteen million dollars from his dead grandmother! He finally puts all the pieces together and sees Dolores for the evil, lying gold-digger she is . . . so he fake divorces her again. She responds by putting the brain in the oven; luckily, Dr. Mike finds it before it becomes a lovely main entrée. He throws Dolores out of the house, but not before she tries to stab him. Her attempt at murder is foiled, however, when Dr. Mike tosses her into a puddle of mud, crushing most of the members of that terrible, terrible band. Oh . . . wait. A LITERAL puddle of mud. Dammit . . . and I had my hopes up, too. Anyway, Dolores, before retreating to whatever hole she came out of, swears – wait for it! – REVENGE!

After the unfortunate fake re-divorce, Dr. Mike once again goes off in search of Dr. Necessiter. It seems that our heroic doctor wants to be a brain so that he can join the other brain in disembodied bliss. Meanwhile, Dr. Necessiter suggests a more logical course of action: putting the currently disembodied brain into a human. Dr. Mike sees the genius in that logic, so he speeds off to the morgue for a little body shopping. Meanwhile, Dolores does a little shopping of her own, trying to find the perfect gun with which to kill Dr. Mike. Unsatisfied with the offerings in the morgue, Dr. Mike watches as some HOT CHICK gets hit by a car; he attempts to make with the body, but she comes to . . . and it’s the chick from Hunter (Stepfanie Kramer)! Dr. Mike, perhaps to send a message to Fred Dryer, tries to strangle the nigh-injured young lass, but she escapes his maddened clutches.

Later, Dr. Mike, finally driven to insanity, prepares to commit murder, this time as the copycat “elevator killer.” To that end, he fills a syringe with some window cleaner . . . “Pane in the Glass” brand window cleaner. Har har. You see, the “elevator killer” injects his victims in the buttock, so I guess it would be a “pain in the . . .” well, you know. So witty. Really. Dolores, looking to commit a little homicide of her own, follows Dr. Mike’s car into the red-light district, where Dr. Mike stares at a bunch of skanky hookers. He then finds just the body he’s looking for, but she turns out to be an annoying American prostitute (Randi Brooks) doing her part for free trade. Dr. Mike, perhaps settling in his quest for an ideal vessel for his brain, takes the young hooker into the hotel. Once in her room, he pulls out the syringe . . . and chickens out. Luckily for him, he needn’t have committed his crime, as Dolores is helpfully murdered in the elevator. Dr. Mike catches the culprit standing over the body . . . and it’s Merv Griffin!

Please excuse me for a moment while I scratch my head. Thank you.

Whew. Anyway, Dr. Mike takes Dolores’ body and an autograph and speeds off to Dr. Necessiter’s, because the brain is getting sleepy. Unfortunately for him, Dr. Mike might have been speeding a little too much, as the local gendarme pulls him over and subjects him to a patently unfunny subtitle gag and a woefully absurdly complex sobriety test. After the test, the cop observantly discerns that Dolores isn’t drunk, but dead, so Dr. Mike makes a run for it. Or, at least, a drive for it. The police, unsurprisingly, give chase and follow Dr. Mike to Dr. Necessiter’s condominium of horrors. Dr. Mike locks himself in said condo, so the police procure a battering ram, bust into the condominium, and run all the way through and out the wall into the swimming pool below.

As if the night weren’t filled with troubles enough, Dr. Mike finds Dr. Necessiter drunk, because the magical brain-transference machine has ceased to operate. Dr. Mike diagnoses the problem: it needs quarters, since it was based off of an arcade console! Tron, indeed. The cops, miraculously dried off and PERFECTLY UNHARMED, re-enter the condominium and confront Dr. Mike. Dr. Mike, finally off the deep end, gives a triumphant monologue in the laboratory . . . and then the machine shoots him out the wall and into the swimming pool below. Some indeterminate time later, Dr. Mike wakes up in the hospital from the beginning of the film. The administrator guy confesses that it’s been six weeks since his adventures in Austria, so the time isn’t indeterminate anymore. Dr. Mike, unsurprisingly, wants to see his brain-transferred wife; unfortunately, Dolores has put on some weight, as the disembodied brain belonged to a compulsive eater. Dr. Mike is unconcerned with the weight gain – honestly, Kathleen Tuner could’ve stood to put on a few pounds; I think it was the coke – so he takes her home. He struggles to carry her over the threshold, but he succeeds . . . and they live happily ever after. And Merv Griffin is still at large.

As most of you have probably figured out by now, I am a fan of absurdity. I like absurdity and I admire those who can utilize it to its fullest. Unfortunately, this is not one of those situations. The Man with Two Brains, many times, is maddeningly absurd, but it all seems forced. There are a few funny moments, but they’re few and far between. Also, much of what works in this movie appeared, to much greater effect, in Young Frankenstein nearly a decade earlier. Add to this the fact that, as entertaining and intellectual as Steve Martin can be, his film work is woefully disappointing and this is one of the biggest disappointments of them all. It’s unfortunate when a man and a movie try so hard to be funny and fall flat, but I guess that is one of the hallmarks of a Misunderstood Masterpiece.

I suppose it’s fitting that we finish up our “science trilogy” with a film about neurology, as, next week, we move on to a series of three films based on a form of entertainment that many a mother has said would “rot your brain.” See you then!