A good deal of the talent which was evident in Debris (1969) is used here to very different effect in a late late showcase revival of Simon Moro, a feature creature of the '30's who triumphed when he begat the masterpiece Ghoulgantua. Now in his late sixties, Moro is making a comeback film (Poe's ""Raven"") while Warner Williams, a writer, stuck in the middle of a novel and his own career ""fatally nil, incurably slick,"" decides to do a magazine piece on him. This will be primarily through a re-run of Moro's old films and some of his past and present co-workers, even his own Fay Wray. Then there's Moro himself amplifying the records, keeping some ""crap's"" last tapes for posterity, and finally committing his last words in the coffin which will send him back to Vienna, or is it Transylvania, on one great stunt to launch his film. But then he will convert it to his own use just as Brewer has used the medium as a means of putting a thumb to the nose on the face of America so that all the revenant nostalgia combines with contemporary parody. For some, certainly eclectic, with all that cineaste-ing around, but also clever and bitter and disruptive since Brewer is a wordsmith of decisive sophistication. Still, will all that bravura dazzle or daze?