I really wish they would make more films like THE FISHER KING. Movies these days seem to have lost sight of one of the most unique aspects of visual storytelling: its capacity to portray dreams and fantasy. That's not to say that movies don't ever stretch the boundaries of reality any more, but they do so cynically and cheaply, littering the screenplay with enough tongue-in-cheek one-liners so everyone can just relax. "Of course we don't *really* want you to think that a giant asteroid is going to hit the earth," filmmakers seem to be saying, "but it sure is fun to watch, isn't it?" Even Steven Spielberg, who brought such extraordinary stories as CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE THIRD KIND and E.T. to our screens, has now tuned his sensibilities either to fantasies that are essentially negative and destructive, as in THE LOST WORLD, in which dinosaurs are brought to life only so they can chase people around and kill them, or to big-budget historical re-creations (not to take anything away from SAVING PRIVATE RYAN, of course, but the point's the same).
The preceding paragraph might give readers the mistaken impression that THE FISHER KING is a fantasy film. It isn't, really: in fact, it takes place in '90s New York City. The genius of THE FISHER KING is that rather than simply being an escapist fantasy, it argues for the place of escapist fantasies in the real world. Director Terry Gilliam is on familiar turf here, but never before has he given the opposition so much screen time: the "realists" in his films have previously been either obviously corrupt and evil (the totalitarian regime in BRAZIL) or almost cartoonishly dull and crotchety (the parents in TIME BANDITS and the medieval town leader in THE ADVENTURES OF BARON MUNCHAUSEN).
In THE FISHER KING, protagonist Jack Lucas (Jeff Bridges) is a bona fide '90s cynic if there ever was one. When we first meet him, he's a Howard Stern-style radio host who makes a living spouting off and insulting his callers. One night, after making an off-hand comment about "stopping the impending yuppie takeover," he turns on the TV to find that one of his listeners apparently took him seriously and shot up a posh restaurant. Three years later, having quit his showbiz job and freeloading off of his girlfriend Anne (Mercedes Ruehl), he's depressed and on the verge of suicide when he's attacked by a pair of muggers, only to be rescued by a homeless man named Parry (Robin Williams) who believes he's a medieval knight on a quest for the Holy Grail. He knows where it is, too, and explains this to Jack, who quickly realizes that Parry's actually talking about a sports trophy in a wealthy New Yorker's home collection.
Parry's wife, as it turns out, was killed in the restaurant shooting three years ago, and the personal tragedy is what has spawned his delusions. Jack understandably feels partly responsible, and decides to try to help Parry, which can be a rather exasperating task at times: Parry is often distracted by a "Red Knight" that he believes is chasing him, and talks to "Little People" who come to visit him occasionally. He's also fallen in love with a lonely woman (Amanda Plummer) that he sees pass through the train station every day. Jack and Anne determine to set the two of them up, and Gilliam handles the goofball romance that develops particularly well, letting them stay true to their quirky personalities without mocking them or allowing their scenes to degenerate into farce. Meanwhile, Jack and Anne start to rediscover some of the magic in their own relationship, which had been going slowly downhill due to his depression and aimlessness.
In the hands of someone other than Gilliam and screenwriter Richard LaGravenese, the story might easily have ended here: Jack makes his act of redemption, Parry is "cured" of his fantasies, and the two couples live happily ever after. Not in THE FISHER KING. Parry has a relapse, slipping away into a coma and leaving Jack bewildered. Eventually, he realizes that the only way to bring Parry out of it is to find his Holy Grail for him. This is the film's grand gesture: it requires Jack to join Parry in his fantasy before the two of them can really finish what they started. THE FISHER KING is a long, hard-fought , and ultimately well-deserved victory for romanticism and imagination over today's cynical brand of pragmatism.
That's not to say that THE FISHER KING is perfect. It starts to get a little unwieldy towards the end of its 137-minute running time, as another crisis for Jack and Anne is unconvincingly introduced. This seemed like a waste of screen time, and it really wasn't necessary to make Jack rehash all his previous conflicts in the final half hour; the unfinished business with Parry would have been enough. For the most part, however, Gilliam keeps the story on track, mixing in the right amounts of doubt and disappointment so that the film's essentially optimistic viewpoint comes through without seeming sappy or undeveloped. Too many films nowadays stage an uplifting finish without the story or characters to back it up. THE FISHER KING is one movie that earns its happy ending.
By : Kevin Patterson (http://members.aol.com/KTPattersn/reviews.html)
Source: rec.art.movies.reviews newsgroup
Rating: 0
There are few directors working today who fully grasp the nature of film as a visual media, and even fewer still who have a distinct visual style which is evident through-out their work. Along with people like Tim Burton, Peter Greenaway and Akira Kurosawa, Terry Gilliam is one of those directors, and his latest film, THE FISHER KING, is certainly evidence that his unique style remains a fundamental part of his filmmaking.
Gilliam's previous three films (TIME BANDITS, BRAZIL, and THE ADVENTURES OF BARON MUNCHAUSEN) formed a trilogy which dealt with the nature and relationship of fantasy and reality. THE FISHER KING also touches on that theme, but at heart, it is a film about retribution and redemption, in the most traditional senses: retribution for sin, and redemption from evil.
As you might gather from the title, the device about which the plot revolves is a modern day retelling of the myth of the Fisher King and the Holy Grail. While THE FISHER KING is not an overtly religious movie, it *is* very concerned with morality -- the master-stroke of the plot is that myth and everyday life gradually form a seemless blend, and the dramatic force of the movie comes from these entwined elements.
To go along with fascinating plot, there is the bizarre and brilliant direction by Gilliam. His use of strange camera angles and odd lens choices work together to make the film create its own reality, still recognizably our own, but somehow cast in a new light; however, it is his flair for staging and spectacle that grabs you again and again. There is a scene set in the heart of Grand Central Station in New York that is the visual centerpiece of the movie, and is as perfect a bit of filmmaking as I have ever seen.
Jeff Bridges plays a shock-jock radio personality, whose fall from grace is as sudden as it is deserved. Robin Williams plays a crazed, homeless man whose life is entwined with Bridges'. Bridges gives a fine performance, but Williams is excellent -- with this film, and his performance in AWAKENINGS, Williams has without question established his credentials as a "serious" actor. Reuhl and Plumber play the love interests for Bridges' and Williams' characters, respectively, and they both do an equally fine job.
THE FISHER KING is a profoundly good movie. It has good performances, an intellectually and emotionally engrossing plot, a distinctive visual style, and a patented Terry Gilliam monster. What more could you want?
