the imaginarium of terry gilliam

The movie may be titled The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus, but we all know that Dr. Parnassus is a Terry Gilliam stand-in, doppelgänger, alter-ego, just as Johnny Depp, Jude Law and Colin Farrell are for Heath Ledger.

The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus is about an old man, Dr. Parnassus's deal with the Devil for his daughter Valentina's soul. But that is only the framework for Gilliam's fabulous visual depictions of Dr. Parnassus's ability to let his audience wander into their fantasies. Christopher Plummer was wonderful as the mad old mystic/king and Tom Waits was a delightful and quite affable Devil, who is much more interested in the game than in the spoils. Anyone who thinks the movie is a pasted-together save attempt by Gilliam and friends doesn't know what a Gilliam movie is like. And as Gilliam movies go, this is a quite good one. Like the sepia-toned start to The Wizard of Oz, Gilliam's movies usually start out murky and grubby, but then someone turns the handle and the door opens to the technicolor beauty of his imagination gone wild.




Heath Ledger plays a man who has fallen in with this strange traveling dream troupe by chance or design, but he quickly shifts the focus of their performances and the film on himself. Even with his part played posthumously by three other distinctive actors, Ledger owns the film. It is a true tribute to him that the talented trio actually manage to effortlessly convey the character he created, including inflections and mannerisms—so much so that a few times I had to really look hard to be sure it wasn't Ledger again.

Johnny Depp is a director's best friend. Anyone who has seen Lost in La Mancha knows just how much of a friend he has been to Gilliam. Gilliam, the eternal optimist, always tilting at Hollywood windmills, is still bound and determined to get his Don Quixote film off the ground, no matter how long it takes. Maybe he'll do it. At the moment it's supposed to be cast with Ewan McGregor and Robert Duvall. Who knows—by the time he finally gets to begin production, it might have Depp as Quixote.

Depp's sequence in this film is set in a Wonderland far superior to the one dreamed up for him by Tim Burton. At one point he tells his customer/victim, whose fantasy has taken a darker tinge, that burning out and dying young is not tragic, as she will never have to get sick and will always be young and beautiful. Just like Heath.

Colin Farrell may have gotten the best alternate-Heath, as he gets to play a love scene with Valentina (the lovely Lily Cole), as well as some dramatic character twists and turns. It's hard not to view the movie as a stunt, with its cast of superstar substitutes, but the three actors who took over for Ledger are all fantastic, and work seamlessly as mirror images/facets of his character. In fact, they may add a dimension to the piece that wouldn't be there if the role had been played by one man. Depp is the emotional side, Law the lighthearted side, and Farrell the darker aspects of the character. All traits are already present, but not immediately visible, when Ledger's character is on the other side of the mirror.




There were so many fabulous visual references I will have to watch again and again to catch them all, but the ones that registered this go-round were The Wizard of Oz, King Lear, Monty Python (of course) and Gilliam's own films, especially The Adventures of Baron Munchausen, Time Bandits and The Fisher King. There were also numerous nods to paintings, including those by Hieronymous Bosch.

At one point early in the film Valentina says to her father, "You never finish a story!" There is so much in this movie that has a double, even triple, meaning—Gilliam's constantly thwarted efforts at film-making, the fate of star Heath Ledger, the role of the artist as a storyteller, the audience as the listeners, what it is to make and watch a film. In the end, everyone has their own imaginarium.

p.s. from Wikipedia:

Depp, Farrell, and Law opted to redirect their wages for the role to Ledger's young daughter, Matilda, ... and Gilliam altered the part of the credits saying "A Terry Gilliam film" to "A film from Heath Ledger and friends."

“ Maestro Gilliam has made a sublime film. Wonderfully enchanting and beautiful, The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus is a uniquely ingenious, captivating creation; by turns wild, thrilling and hilarious in all its crazed, dilapidated majesty. Pure Gilliam magic! It was an honor to represent Heath. He was the only player out there breathing heavy down the back of every established actor's neck with a thundering and ungovernable talent that came up on you quick, hissing rather mischievously with that cheeky grin, "hey... get on out of my way, boys, I'm coming through..." and does he ever!!! ... and as for my other cohorts, Colin Farrell and Jude Law, they most certainly did Master Ledger very proud, I salute them.”—Johnny Depp

“ I have always loved Terry Gilliam's films. Their heart, their soul, their mind, always inventive, touching, funny and relevant. When I got the call, it was a double tug. I liked Heath very much as a man and admired him as an actor. To help finish his final piece of work was a tribute I felt compelled to make. To help Terry finish his film was an honour paid to a man I adore. I had a great time on the job. Though we were all there in remembrance, Heath's heart pushed us with great lightness to the finish.”—Jude Law

It’s not hard for me to imagine that if I ever look back on the films I’ve been a part of, and the stories I’ve had a hand in telling, one will stand out as so unique an experience, as to be incomparable. This experience was the shooting of The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus. The reasons for its uniqueness, sadly, are probably obvious to anyone who reads this. Three of us had been asked to complete a task that had been set in motion by a man we greatly liked and respected as both a person and an artist. Being part of this film was never about filling Heath’s shoes as much as seeing them across the finish line. ... It was this spirit of grieving the loss of Heath, that Johnny and Jude and I joined. But there was also a sense of dogged insistence. Insistence that Heath’s last piece of work should not be kept in the shadow of the light of day. More than anything, though – more than the sadness and shock, the vulnerability and un-suredness as to whether it was right to complete the film or not – was an incredible sense of love. ... Such a gift and an honor, from Heath, to be a part of the trail that he left behind. RIP Heath Ledger x—Colin Farrell

Related articles

• Gilliam loses Don Quixote backers (bbc.co.uk)
• A 3-D conversion we can get behind: Terry Gilliam wants Time Bandits 3-D [3D] (io9.com)

underground

I just finished Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere. I enjoyed it. What really struck me, as I read it, were all the "links" I could make. Some placed within the novel by Gaiman, some brought to the experience of reading by the particular reader, me.

Neverwhere tells the story of an everyman, Richard Mayhew, who is swept into another world beneath the streets of London, called London Below. This other London is peopled by those who have fallen through the cracks of our world, as well as some fanciful and pretty horrible characters, and also ones with otherworldly powers. I enjoyed the character and in-joke of the Marquis of Carabas and was concerned about his fate, maybe more than any other character in the story. Not that I didn't like Richard, but the Marquis was more engaging. But that's true of the Wizard of Oz (film), too, which is numerously referenced in Neverwhere. Everyone has a favorite character from that classic film. Mine was and still is the Tin Man, although I think the most intrepid member of Dorothy's crew may well have been Toto. Richard, like Dorothy, spends much of his time wanting to go back home. In this upside-down fairy tale he gets his wish and then gets to change his mind. What I found most intriguing about Richard was that even though he has completely lost his identity in the London he knows and has become a walking metaphor of the homeless, faceless poor that try to live off the city streets with all-too-short a life, he never completely loses touch with who he is. No matter who he runs across in the strange societies of London Below, he never hesitates to introduce himself, with his full name, "I'm Richard Mayhew." Maybe he's just more polite than my fellow Americans, but I was impressed.

Another interesting aspect of Neverwhere is the idea of youth, and growing up. One could read the story of Richard's adventures in London Below as his maturation process. But I also saw it as a depiction of what it's like to be young in the city. City life and youth itself can be exciting, dirty, scary, sexy, even life-threatening. If Richard chose to return to his (our) normal world, he could always look back on his time with the Marquis and Door and the others as his wild youth, much like many of us have dim but pleasant memories of our own youthful escapades.

While reading Neverwhere I experienced echoes of other books I have recently read and enjoyed. As each step of Richard's journey took him closer to somewhere or someone even stranger or more dangerous than the last, reading can take you on a larger journey, from book to book, weaving a common thread through different stories. A few months back I read Rune by Christopher Fowler, whose Bryant and May mystery series I enjoy. Like Neverwhere, Rune is set in London with a male protagonist who doesn't yet realize he might like to break free from his relationship with a perfect woman who isn't perfect for him. An interesting yet offbeat young woman comes into his life and the story is off and running. More a horror story than fantasy, Rune still makes for a good read. In fact my only quibble with both books is that there is a lot, maybe too much, flowing blood. As good as both of these writers are, I was wondering how horrible Neverwhere's Mr. Croup and Mr. Vandemar could still have been without the need to be overly descriptive of half-eaten kittens and the like.

I also recently finished Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials series, with the wonderful female protagonist Lyra Silvertongue. These books start out in an alternate Oxford and then take off for worlds familiar and imaginary. I can't say enough about this great series of books, except that I look forward to my daughter being old enough to enjoy them. In the meantime I will most likely be reaching for Gaiman's latest and see where the book will take me and what other books and worlds I may discover on the way.

back in Oz

I spent the day watching a bunch of 4- and 5-year olds in Wizard of Oz costumes chasing each other around, laughing, crying, fighting - generally having a 4- and 5-year old blast. It could have been a nightmare, I guess, but it was really fun. For the older folks, too.

1. Was it the beautiful fall day?
2. The nature of probably the greatest American movie?
3. The general community spirit of goodwill that is permeating the country at the moment?
4. A combination of all of the above?

Well as to the first, at least in the greater DC area, the weather has been gorgeous and looks to stay that way. Score one for a mild climate (and hopefully not global warming.)

The Wizard of Oz, per the second question, has been delighting children, adults and probably even small animals since it came out in 1939. There is something about the music and the fantasy and the iconic display of friendship that has never been equaled. There are so many stories about the making of the film, from interesting trivia to the semi-scandalous. The cyclone, the Wicked Witch, the flying monkeys - I could go on and on. And well, there's no place like home.

My brother and I grew up with a B&W television. We had seen the movie several times on TV and loved it. One summer, while we were living in Manasquan, NJ, the local movie theater booked the film. My mom insisted that we go see it. My brother and I were up for a treat, but weren't that excited - we'd seen it before. She quietly insisted and off we went. The movie started and it was great to see it on a large screen, so we were enjoying ourselves. Judy Garland sang, the cyclone hit, the house spun around and around and then bang, it landed. Dorothy picked up Toto and went to open the door and...we SCREAMED! The Technicolor was amazing. Oz was amazing. My mom was amazing, for keeping that secret so well, so that we could enjoy the surprise when it happened. I don't know if anyone else in the theater noticed the two kids with the enormous grins on their faces, but we loved that movie that day. And I still catch my breath, every time she opens that door, when I see it today. We all need a little magic in our lives.

And about the third item, well, I think we're painting the Beltway an attractive shade of yellow brick for January. Can't wait.