Parnassus - L'uomo che voleva ingannare il diavolo

Suffering the double whammy of being directed by Terry Gilliam (forever the attracter of on-set misfortune – Don Quixote, anyone?) and the untimely death of its star, Heath Ledger, halfway through shooting, The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus has had a troubled upbringing. But with the actor's tragic passing, its unremarkable place on 2009's cinema calendar was upped by being Ledger's second posthumous and final movie, unfairly burdening the film with the anticipation of it being something great.

It's not great. But it is a good movie, and probably Gilliam's best in over a decade. Also, bittersweet though it may be, Ledger's inability to complete his work is remedied in an incredibly inventive manner that arguably improves what would have been; the multiple facets of Ledger's mysterious Tony in the Imaginarium is a great inflection, and Gilliam deserves credit for this creative retooling, and for the fact that the haste in which it was applied is not at all noticeable. Johnny Depp, Jude Law and Colin Farrell (who all donated their wages to his daughter, Matilda) honorably step in to play the alternates, paying poignant tribute to their friend. All are good (though Farrell's Irish accent is far too thick to flatten), Depp probably being the best, but its all mimicry; Ledger is the one who does all the work. His Tony, performed with a flawless English accent, is a great part for him, possessing all the characteristics of vintage Ledger – charismatic, droll, physically erratic, etc. It's not on par with his work in Brokeback Mountain or The Dark Knight, but seeing how much fun he must have been having, seeing that wily smile, makes it a none the more fitting goodbye to the man.

The multi-personas also, despite sounding like classically contrived Gilliam, actually turn out to be the most credible part of the movie; they represent the most fascinating of the film's many mediations on reality (Gilliam is always at best when toying with reality, and this is no exception) - different parallels of the human psyche (or at least Tony's) are all challenged, and make for genuinely thought-provoking stuff. The rest of the film, however, is a bit of a patchwork; provocative but hopelessly overwrought. As always with the Brazil director, you can't fault his ambition, but he's always been patently unable to neatly combine all of his ideas into a satisfying whole.

His biggest mistake is going contemporary. Gilliam's sense of humor, being that of a Python affiliate's, has always been well-authenticated by a theatrical and undeniably British zaniness. But here, we get modern social satire in the form of Tony's revamped version of the group's travelling act, and we get conversational verbosity (particularly in the poor improvisation of a pointless Verne Troyer), and it simply doesn't suit. Better are the moments where a group of "violence-loving" coppers dance about in skirts or in the inebriated ramblings of Doctor Parnassus.

Why Gilliam didn't stick to his personal brand of appealing outlandishness is a shame, and a mystery, considering his fine cast of comically-endowed Brits, with glorious thespian Christopher Plummer at its head as the titular Doc. Of all the actors on hand here, Plummer is the one who best excels with the material. Playing a man who has lived over one-thousand years, he manages to convincingly carry himself with the weight of that time, his sallow-skinned and ravaged face, heavy, sad eyes, and world-weary frown scarily naturalistic. He's a heart-breaking character, and Plummer makes him an uncompromising presence.

Also impressive are newcomers Andrew Garfield and Lily Cole, and Tom Waits as Mr Nick, the Devil himself. The notorious singer has never really had any good roles to work with in his career, and, in all fairness, his talents as an actor dictates just as much, but he's simply perfect here, his Machiavelli stealing all the scenes he wonderfully chews with his smarminess. It's not exactly a creation of noteworthy prowess (and neither is the character – the cavalier, smooth-talking, gentleman-like villain, who relishes fomenting, is very overdone), but he's just such a hoot and effortlessly magnetic. He's pretty much the best thing here, and worth the admission price.

Along with the cast, the visuals, a branch you can expect brilliance in with Gilliam, are a real saving grace. The special effects in the Imaginarium aren't extraordinary, but that's the point; it's an accentuated, animated reality – one's greatest dreams (and nightmares) aren't supposed to be realistic. And few images this year are more stirring than of a harrowed Parnassus wandering through a vast snow-plain, giving up his struggle at a crossroad sign that reads "High Road" or "Low Road".

It's a very entertaining movie, and thematically sound (it manages to make existentialism and solipsism accessible), and endearingly whimsical in tone and style. Unfortunately, it frequently degenerates into a muddle, the many ideas it juggles far too incoherently transcended. Thankfully, however, after the monotonous middle act, the movie picks up steam and the great Imaginarium sequences arrive to compel. And, in the end, it's a sheer miracle that the movie got made; the fact that Gilliam didn't give up, that he persevered and single-handedly defeated one of the worst production catastrophes, and that he gave Ledger his swansong, is something truly amazing. And it is for that reason that The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus will be remembered.

Like so many of Terry Gilliam's films The Imaginarium Of Doctor Parnassus is one that is going to need multiple viewings to truly form an opinion on. Like Brazil, Adventures Of Baron Munchausen, Fisher King, Fear & Loathing In Las Vegas and Tideland (even Time Bandits really) there is so much going on here that expectations or reputations get in the way and make it hard to digest and appreciate on a single viewing. No bad thing necessarily.

Of course Parnassus has the particularly insurmountable problem of being the late Heath Ledger's final performance and following on from his superb, Oscar-winning turn in The Dark Knight. It is impossible to see the film through eyes that don't see it as the film he died making. Some parts of the film may perhaps work even better than they may of done had he lived – some of the best films are triumphs over adversity and adverse conditions don't come much greater than your star dying mid-shoot. But whatever works and doesn't in the film it is hard – impossible on a first viewing – to divorce yourself from the knowledge you bring into the theatre.

On first feeling Parnassus seems patchy, and curiously it feels like a film that may not have worked as well as it does had nothing happened to Ledger. Don't get me wrong I'd rather have a Gilliam failure and Ledger still alive to put it behind him and move on than a wonderful film that is largely the result of his tragic death. But we don't have that so I'm just looking at what's there.

The fact is the film is at it's best when galloping around the fantastical worlds of the Imaginarium, with Ledger's character Tony now played by Johnny Depp, Jude Law and Colin Farrell. Depp and Farrell are particularly good and imbue the film with an energy lacking in much of it.

The casting generally is good. Christopher Plummer is steadfast excellence as always. Lily Cole is a surprisingly strong choice. I've never understood the viewpoint of Cole as "sooooooo beautiful" that the gossip sheets and magazines espouse but she has a quirky intrigue that works wonders in a Gilliam world and proves herself as an actress amongst a proved group of impressive performers. Hers is probably the best debut performance I can recall of a model or singer turning to acting. She puts a lot of professional actresses (no Keiras named!) to shame.

Andrew Garfield is that intriguing mix of annoying and brilliant. Like DiCaprio in What's Eating Gilbert Grape? I started out thinking he was terrible and then grew to realise it was just that I hated him, his character. He annoyed the hell out of me. In another words he had inhabited the character so fully, so convincingly that my negative feelings toward him where directed at the fictional character. A superb performance.

Tom Waits steals moments constantly. Waits hasn't been given such a juicy role that fit him better since Renfield in Coppola's Dracula and he revels as Dr Nick (the devil) here.

Oddly the performance that, again I specify on first viewing, leaves you a bit underwhelmed is Ledgers. It is not a bad performance but the expectations as you go in, knowing it was his last performance, means you expect something special. Brokeback Mountain/Dark Knight special. But of course not every role is as powerful as his in Brokeback or as scene-stealing as the Joker. I mean he didn't know it was his last performance for crying out loud. Therefore it cannot possibly live up to expectations and is destined to underwhelm until multiple viewings and some distance allow it to be judged fairly. That there was such a fully formed character there that three other actors could step in to play alternate universe versions of it entirely convincingly is arguably a testament to how strong a performance Ledger did give. It is not a likable character or a flashy character (it doesn't even really seem the main character until the alternate worlds with the alternate Tonys come in) and so Ledger's understated subtleties are easy to miss.

When you watch Fisher King the first time you remember Robin Williams, not Jeff Bridges. In Twelve Monkeys it's Brad Pitt that comes away with you not Bruce Willis. And yet on further viewings Bridges' performance seems superb, Willis' perhaps the best of his career. I suspect on repeated viewings I'm going to see the strength of Ledger's performance better. I hope so.

And of course this is a problem much of the film has. Gilliam doesn't make simple, overly explained films for the masses – thank Gilliam – you have to work with them. The problem here is that with your mind distracted with thoughts of Ledger and expectations built on that promise of Gilliam at his creative best, three step-in performances and Ledger's final performance it's hard to get your mind around the story and enjoy it as a piece of work.

Sometimes Gilliam films work, sometimes they don't. Sometimes they get better and better on repeat viewings (Brazil); sometimes they work instantly (Twelve Monkeys); sometimes they seem to work but the more you see them or think about them they crumble and ultimately don't (Brothers Grimm). Sometimes they just seem to be a mix of great ideas, wonderful performances and ingenious set pieces but hampered by an overabundance of theatricality and almost too much going on for its own good (Baron Munchausen). On a first viewing Imaginarium Of Doctor Parnassus feels like this latter. Bits work, bits don't. It's enjoyable in places but perplexing ultimately.

I will definitely revisit it though to see if changes on repeat viewings. I feel sure it will, but whether that's a good or bad thing, well, I'll have to wait and see.

I found this film interesting and visually stunning, but flawed. At least one of the flaws cannot be attributed to faulty writing/production, but several others can be. For example, there is nothing new or original in the story: it is a straightforward retelling of Faust, the man who makes a pact with the devil and discovers that the devil is smarter and has all the time in the universe to prove it. The ideas of a man who asks for immortality but neglects to ask for eternal youth, and of a child born with a curse on her because of a prior wager her father has made with divine powers to further his own interests, are taken straight out of Greek mythology. Still, one could do worse than borrow from Goethe and Greek mythology.

The movie weaves in and out of mundane reality (the traveling freak show in modern England) and schizophrenic hallucinogenic scenes inside the Imaginarium, which is the carnival attraction into which Dr. P lures potential sacrificial victims in his attempt to outwit the devil. The scenes inside the Imaginarium show what happens when you give an ex-Python unlimited access to digital effects: quite stunning, but having little to do with the story. They show the fantasy of Gilliam running wild on a huge budget, more than effectively advancing the story of Dr. P and his accursed daughter. I ask myself what a 1930s producer/director, Fritz Lang or Tod Browning for example, might have done with this story and these characters, but without the digital effects- -the story might have benefited from leaving the hallucinogenic details more to the imagination of the viewer than brow-beating us with a pixel- barrage of details. The real horror of what Dr. P is doing is masked by the almost Dr. Seussian silliness of the visual effects (dancing policemen??): Dr. P is luring souls to eternal damnation in an attempt to free his daughter from a wager he made centuries ago. Dr. P is, in essence, trading in human souls. Dr. P himself is immortal, but his daughter is not, and time is running out for her; the horror of her situation, and the evil Dr. P is willing to perpetrate to undo the effects of his own damnable wager, could certainly have been ratcheted up by more subtle means than Gilliam employs here.

The reality scenes sometimes interweave with the fantastical ones in schizophrenic confusion, indicating, so I suppose, Dr. P's own tenuous grasp on reality. The schizophrenic quality of the film is enhanced by the fact that several different actors play the part of one of the main characters, Tony. I ask myself whether any producer/director would have chosen this as his preferred mechanism to unfold this story, and the answer I come up with is, "no". It is a trick which doesn't quite work for this story; though it did work for "I'm Not There" (no one could play Bob Dylan). The film just barely manages to make the trick plausible by implying that the differences in the character's appearance are due to the perspectives of the different people who perceive that character within the Imaginarium. OK, it was made necessary by the death of the actor in the middle of production, otherwise the film would not have gone public; I can see that Gilliam made the best of terribly unfortunate circumstances. But it is still a dubious trick.

The casting is excellent: Plummer is entirely convincing as the world- weary Faustian character, Miss Cole acquits herself well as the girl clueless as to her own impending doom, and Waits is superb as the devil. If I hadn't seen any other film with Heath Ledger in it, I would not have thought him an especially gifted actor based solely on this performance; maybe if he had completed the film, it would have shown his true abilities.

6/10

It is impossible to write about this entry into Terry Gilliam's oeuvre without acknowledging the tragic death of Heath Ledger. Cast as the film's inciting character, Heath Ledger's untimely death spawned and air of sadness that blankets the film, especially considering the tragic nature of his character.

Of course, as they say, the show must go on, so "The Imaginarium" did as well. in an outpouring of cinematic industry kinship, Johnny Depp ("Fear and Loathing"), Colin Farrell ("In Bruges"), Jude Law ("A.I.") stepped in to play Heath Ledger's character, Tony's, alter ego when he is in the mirror world. What this film would have looked like had Ledger not departed can never be known. How much film had to be scrapped, how many scenes were restructured, what funding fell through as a result, I do not know.

For these reasons, the film, in all of its imperfection, seems to get a pass from me, as I find myself wondering how a film production would recover from such a blow. The only even somewhat similar circumstances I can think of off the top of my head is Brandon Lee's death during the filming of "The Crow," and the massive reshoot efforts undertaken to remove Kevin Spacey from the film "All the Money in the World," coincidentally played by Christopher Plummer ("The New World") who co starred with Ledger ("A Knight's Tale") in "Imaginarium."

So those are my caveats for a film plagued by problems. I watch this film with a wave of sad forgiveness and dream of its original intentions.

It would have been hard not to like this movie, since I had early previews from friends that it is boring and pointless, so my expectations were really down. I did watch it, nonetheless, and I am glad I did. If you ever watched Tideland, you know Terry Gilliam is capable of works of terrible beauty, often concocted from the ugliest bits life can provide; such is this film.

This is Heath Ledger's last film, he died during filming it, but his character is not the main one, just the extra ingredient needed to take all the important ones out of their equilibrium state. Because of this tragedic death, other actors came to fill up the role, such as Johnny Depp, Jude Law and Colin Farrell.

And still, the important character, the Faust that can't keep himself from betting with a mischievous devil that isn't even very unfriendly, is Christopher Plummer's, who played marvelously at his age of 81. I loved the way the devil was toying with him, addicted to playing games that he didn't want to win in the end so that he keeps playing. The visuals were great, the atmosphere both miraculous and brooding, but rarely in the same time. And Lily Cole was cute and sexy as hell.

Bottom line: a weird film that you need to think about to get at his many hidden meanings, with beautiful imaginative imagery and great actors. What is not to like?