When the phone rings late at night,
my initial reaction is to wonder who might have died.
Upon being asked “Can I talk to you?”
I instinctively survey my surroundings and make a mental note of the exits.
And once I learn that a film like The
Brothers Grimm has spent a couple years growing roots on a studio
shelf, I become filled with the most petrifying sense of dread as I imagine how
ghastly the movie could be.
Sure, it seems like a marriage made
in Hollywood: Terry Gilliam, arguably one of contemporary cinema’s most visual
filmmakers, tackling a famously dark work whose fanciful imagery certainly
lends itself to big-screen treatment. Throw in a couple of bankable stars (Matt
Damon and Heath Ledger) that have been known to ensnare the female audience,
and count the minutes until the armored trucks show up.
Oh, if only it were that easy.
Damon, unfortunately falling into the
foppish trap that ensnares most guys in period costume, plays Will Grimm, the
ringleader of a group of charlatans who make a living roaming French-occupied
Germany and fooling townspeople into believing that they’re early-19th-century
ghostbusters. When Will isn’t duping Teutonic rubes he’s browbeating his little
brother Jake (Ledger, sporting a sad little beard that appears as if someone
basted his jawline with maple syrup and then threw hair at him), a bookish sort
who records these faux adventures in his trusty notebook.
A villainous French general (frequent
Gilliam collaborator Jonathan Pryce) hears about their exploits and forces Will
and Jake to investigate the disappearance of 10 little girls (including
Hansel’s sister and a young lady who wears a hooded crimson cape) from the town
of Marbaden. The Grimm brothers are accompanied by the general’s unctuous
Italian minion (scenery chewer Peter Stormare, entertaining as always) and
guided through an enchantingly sinister forest by Angelika (Lena Headey), a
lovely fräulein who puts them on the trail of the Mirror Queen (Monica
Bellucci, without a doubt the fairest of them all).
There’s always something to engage
your eyes in Grimm, whether it’s
oddly hostile trees, a magical mirror, or that unpredictable boomeraxe. But
Gilliam has never been lauded for his restraint, and in Grimm he seems to throw everything he’s got at the screen.
Occasionally it sticks (the clever evolution of an ultra-gooey gingerbread man
springs to mind), sometimes it doesn’t (slapstick should probably be funny),
and the constant pummeling grows monotonous and ultimately cold.
Grimm is Gilliam’s first theatrical release since 1998’s overrated Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas (sorry,
hipsters, but movies about drugs are not automatically good), yet its delay is
due more to studio politics than its quality. Gilliam’s last moviemaking
experience was not a pleasant one — the spectacular implosion of The Man Who Killed Don Quixote having
been documented in Lost in La Mancha — and his battles with Dimension over budget, crew, casting (Gilliam wanted
the superior Samantha Morton to play Angelika) should have been enough to sap
the creative drive of any artist. Fortunately, during the time spent battling
over Grimm, Gilliam shot another
film, the soon-to-premiere Tideland.
But maybe you’re just wondering about
the requisite happy ending, since we are talking about a fairy tale. I can
safely say that after nearly two hours of appalling accents, boring leads, and
a needlessly complicated plot, I was very happy to see it end.
On
Wednesday, September 7, at the Dryden Theatre, ImageOut will unveil the
lineup for their 13th annual lesbian and gay film festival, taking place
October 7-16, 2005. As part of the kickoff ImageOut and the Dryden are
presenting Wild Side, a striking piece of lyrical filmmaking by Sébastien
Lifshitz about family, both real and impromptu.
Stéphanie, a transsexual Parisian
prostitute, returns to her childhood home in northern France after receiving
word of her mother’s failing health. The men in her life — bisexual hustler
Jamel and Russian immigrant Mikhail — join her there, and the three of them
form a loving triple (that’s one more than a couple). The nonlinear story is
told through set pieces and artfully composed shots that illustrate how these
three people from diverse backgrounds came together to form their makeshift
family.
The real star of Wild Side, however, is cinematographer Agnes Godard, as she is
responsible for the exquisite images that draw you into the gossamer narrative.
And that’s Antony from Antony and the Johnsons in the opening scene, singing “I
Fell in Love with a Dead Boy” and making it clear why critics all over the
world are consulting their thesauruses in search of new words to describe his
otherworldly voice.
The Brothers Grimm (PG-13), directed
by Terry Gilliam, is playing at Brockport Strand, Canandaigua Theatres, Culver
Ridge Cinemas, Geneseo Theatres, Greece Ridge 12, Henrietta 18, Pittsford
Cinema, Tinseltown USA, Vintage Drive-In | Wild Side (NR) screens Wednesday,
September 7, in the George Eastman House’s Dryden Theatre, as a kickoff to the
2005 ImageOut festival. 18+ only
This article appears in Aug 31 – Sep 6, 2005.
