Terry Gilliam’s unique body of work is perhaps best viewed as the last bastion of pure imagination in a studio system increasingly ruled by bean-counters. Though not always successful, his films are always interesting, and even his failures – The Man Who Killed Don Quixote being a paramount example- contain more than enough to maintain that interest. Coupled with the untimely loss of leading man Heath Ledger, The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus arrives groaning with a weight of expectation it struggles to meet.
This isn’t to say that it’s a bad film by any stretch, just one that is often wilfully obtuse and convoluted making it possibly too rich for the mainstream palate, but with it’s outbreaks of absurdist humour, overblown, pantomimic characters and the sumptuous and richly textured sets Gilliam is renowned for, it’s an incredibly complex and involving exercise in world creation that will surely reward repeated viewings.
Reuniting Gilliam with Screenwriter Charles McKeown, the film also treads lightly over themes the pair have consistently raised in earlier collaborations Brazil and particularly Baron Munchausen as we follow the roguish immortal Doctor Parnassus (Christopher Plummer) and his daughter Valentina (a fresh-facedLily Cole) and the eponymous travelling imaginarium as Parnassus pursues his great love and tries to wheedle out of a deal with Tom Wait’s excellently cast devil which could cost Valentina her soul. In order to avoid this, Parnassus makes a further deal with Satan – whoever collects five souls first wins, a deal cast as they save charity boss Tony (Ledger), who they stumble upon as he tries to hang himself.
The action plays out in a particularly grim version of modern day London, despair rife in the streets as the city’s po-faced inhabitants work away their unimaginative lives. As the travelling band seek out five souls worthy of capture, they slowly return a sense of wonder and magic to a world that direly needs it, persuading their victims to step through a magical mirror into a world of their happiest imaginings-which here range from Chocolate Factories to upscale department stores.
As the film progresses, the sequences become ever-more ostentatious, Gilliam’s flair for arresting visuals unbound; Waits transforms into a gigantic serpent, violent Police squads sing and dance, huge heads form from the Earth itself, each meticulously detailed and framed with childlike wonder. It’s a feast for the eyes, but stumbles in the telling, the story itself jumbled, occasionally becoming merely an excuse for more ostentation.
Incredibly, Ledgers absence is actually used to enhance the story, played by various stellar cast members as he passes through the looking glass, his outer trappings stripped away to reveal a villainous core, played with vaudevillian glee by Colin Farrell, Johnny Depp and a surprisingly effective Jude Law. It’s an elegant and convincing solution to a potentially crippling problem, and one that allows each actor an equal share of the limelight – the end credits billing it as “A film from Heath Ledger and friends” – their performances enhancing and elaborating on the character.
For Ledger it’s a fine final bow, displaying an intense screen presence and an innate talent for comedy while still keeping an underlying smear of nastiness about him, his composite character is deeply realised and fascinating. Likewise, a special mention should go to Andrew Garfield. His Anton an amazingly realised study in jealousy and pride that’s testament to his versatility and inventiveness.
As a film, it’s something of an over-egged pudding. Occasionally grossly distorted by design, with rambling sequences that add little to the plot, but while it’s possible to feel that some judicious editing would benefit the enterprise, the result may well strip some of the character Gilliam has obviously worked so hard to realise. A shambling, wonderful and ultimately rewarding beast, it may not reap massive commercial returns, but will surely find a place in many viewer’s hearts as an exquisite, strangely loveable flight of atmospheric fancy, and a fine addition to Gilliam’s canon.
