Lost in La Mancha: B-
BY NEIL FAUERSO
IS THERE A MORE SINGULAR and fiercely individual director than
Terry Gilliam? Sure, Lynch and the Coen brothers have forged similar distinct
and personal celluloid universes, but they’ve always had it easy—their
respective studios and financiers have, for the most part, left them alone.
Gilliam however, always has to fight. From the epic battle he waged over
Brazil, to the whipping he took for Baron
Munchausen (certainly one of
the most unfairly maligned and booed films of all time), Gilliam, despite
proving himself again and again commercially and critically (Twelve
Monkeys, The Fisher King), has been pigeonholed as a loose canon lunatic.
Lost in La Mancha, a new-to-video documentary chronicling the horrific
mishaps of Gilliam’s ill-fated attempt to film his dream, Don
Quixote,
is by no means a great film. It’s stilted, slow, and not nearly
as gripping as it should be. Nevertheless, it’s significant in showing
how a pure and enthusiastic vision can be corrupted.
As the film begins, Gilliam is effusive and nervous. His decade-long dream
is coming to life. He has a perfect cast: the dead-ringer Jean Rochefort
as Quixote, as well as Johnny Depp, Vanessa Paradis, and slew of highly
convincing hairy men for ogres; he’s assembled the best production
and design people, and arranged for on-site locations in Spain. The only
problem is the budget—at a meager $32 million, there is no room for
error and, boy, do errors occur. Flooding, the roar of F-16 fighters drowning
out any recorded sound, Jean Rochefort’s devastating back injury,
and a slew of other problems all grind the film to a halt. Soon the investors
have pulled out and Gilliam’s dream is gone.
The documentary, directed by Keith Fulton and Louis Pepe, could have been
captivating, but ends up quite static. Crucial scenes are left underdeveloped
and half-baked, and the film’s meandering quality may have been the
way productions actually work, but it sure makes for a dull viewing
experience. Still, the potent parallel between Quixote’s elegiac
yearnings to make his dying world more interesting and Gilliam’s
failed dream are undeniable. It is strongly implied that the film would
have been Gilliam’s
grandest yet (no mean feat), and even though he has moved on to the
promising Brothers Grimm, it is hard not to dream a little, too. Oh well,
we always have the next round of Tomb Raider and Scary
Movie sequels to look forward
to. Lost in La Mancha is a depressing film for a multitude of reasons.
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