Terry Gilliam is a visionary —no, Terry Gilliam is a has-been. Terry Gilliam is a grouch… but wait, Terry Gilliam is a delight. Terry Gilliam is a Python. But hang on, didn’t he “just” draw the pictures? There’s almost no declarative statement you can make about Terry Gilliam without someone offering a direct contradiction, and any contradiction as such invariably contains some truth. So let’s start with something easier: Terry Gilliam is an American director who … except he’s not, he’s British. Bugger it. The facts are these. A 73 year-old American-born director, screenwriter, actor, animator and founding member of the Monty Python comedy troupe, Terry Gilliam has had one of the most fascinating on-and-off-screen careers in the past 50 years of cinema, and inspires equal parts antipathy and adulation, often in the very same individual and often at the very same moment. A political science major who became an advertising cartoonist, illustrator and animator after college, by his own account he defected from America because he was worried he’d become a “full-time, bomb-throwing terrorist” in response to what he saw as the rising tide of authoritarianism in the U.S., especially with respect to police brutality. Naturalizing to British citizenship in 1968, Gilliam first met John Cleese, and then the other members of what would become Monty Python, and graduated from duties as the troupes animator and illustrator for LPs and book covers to full membership with co-writing credits on all of their works (and certainly you can see the sensibility of his early solo animations having a direct effect on the troupe’s live action TV shows and movies). The astoundingly influential Pythons gradually dissolved during the early 80s (though recently reformed for a run of stage shows), but Gilliam’s solo directorial career was already in its fledgling stages with 1977’s “Jabberwocky” and 1981’s “Time Bandits” taking place outside the Monty Python banner. Since then he has attained dizzying heights and bends-inducing lows in terms of the quality of his output. His career always had its ups and downs, but latterly has seen more downs, as Gilliam’s ability to be hired took a knock following some box-office disappointments and a string of high-profile setbacks, notably around the mounting of his Don Quixote movie. Seeing as its fair to say that hes a filmmaker whose visual reach has often exceeded his grasp, perhaps the worst impediment to hit Gilliam’s career recently has been the availability of cheap CG, which makes it seem possible to deliver the kind of fantastical productions he wanted to make within budget constraints. Possible yes, but advisable maybe not so much, as the plasticky, unconvincing CG that has marred some of his recent efforts is a million miles from the charming, inventive, in-camera visual style upon which he made his name. But whatever mix of conflicting emotions we feel toward Gilliam’s output at any one moment, he remains a character (and a terrific interviewee) who fascinates us, not least for the tumultuous nature of his career, and the endearingly outspoken way that he assesses it. With the release of his latest film “The Zero Theorem” (original review here), we thought we’d take a look back at Gilliam’s directorial career in full, so here’s our take on each of his films, ranked from worst to best. One title that does not appear, as he did not direct it, is the very great documentary “Lost In La Mancha,” but it’s a vital watch for anyone with even a passing interest in the craft of moviemaking, or in Gilliam himself. The doc, perhaps even more than any of his own films, captures brilliantly what we love so much about Gilliam (even when we hate him) —endlessly tilting at the windmills of his imagination, deaf to the doubts of those around him, with a stubbornness so profound it becomes noble, he is cinemas own Don Quixote.
Posted on: Wed, 17 Sep 2014 07:25:00 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015