The Fisher King: Gilliam's Most Operatic Film

 

(Updated from 9 August 2023)

It had been at least 20 years since I watched this, but Criterion Channel tonight reminded me it's leaving so . . . The Fisher King it was. 

I remember attending its DC premiere, and, despite hearing mostly negative reviews and not much praise, just how much I loved it.  But the truth was, I couldn't remember why I'd loved it so.  While certain elements came back immediately, I was rather surprised at just how much I'd forgotten. As I watched and smiled, I began remembering just how much - and why I I loved this film so many critics had a field day tearing apart. 

Roger Ebert felt director Terry Gilliam was "too indulgent" with a) the numerous angles the story took; and b) Robin Willliams' performance. That was the real stickler for him, I think.  He emphasized how he believed Williams would do well to "steer clear of parts created for his particular style," and that he is an actor that needs a strong director who will "reign him in."  Pishaw!  

Two separate NY Times reviews (remember when that was a thing?) detailed its perceived failures.  Caryn James decried it as "overdone and mawkish . . . from the touchy-feely school of movie making . . . big and messy." Meanwhile, Janet Maslin at least wanted to like the film and had some positive things to say, but it all derailed for her as she felt Gilliam "sustain(ed) a funhouse atmosphere at the expense of dramatic development. What emerges, in the end, are a clever premise that has been allowed to go awry . . . an unholy mess . . further heightened by the throwing in of the Holy Grail . . . it's narrative confused and cluttered  . . . by its final scenes its shapelessness has become exhausting." Wow. Disagree. A lot.

Gilliam worked with a splendid cast: Jeff Bridges as the broken radio shock jock Jack; Robin Williams as God's Janitor, Parry; Mercedes Ruhl (in a glorious performace) as Jack's tough partner, Anne, and Amanda Plummer as the awkward loner, Lydia.  Each injects a glorious complexity into his or her character, as they're put through their own individual emotional wringers. For my part, the pairing of Bridges and Williams was an inspired one, their many scenes together an absolutely joyous thing to behold.  While I have always enjoyed Mr. Bridges, the emotional range he brings to Jack results in what remains one of his career's finest and most deeply felt performaces.

While there are a few things I think may have benefited from a stronger editorial hand (the Chinese restaurant scene could have been half as long and still made its point), there really isn't much I would change or shorten.

Gilliam's blend of comedy and pathos, reality and fantasy, hopelessness and redemption felt to me all of a piece in Richard LaGravenese's beautiful, often poetic screenplay. Some of the critics liked various of those elements, but most it seemed felt it was too much  - that certain things (e.g., the relevance or irrelevance of the Holy Grail) were unessential elements and bogged the story down. They're wrong.  They didn't.

One of the film's crowning touches is the over-the-top performance of Michael Jeter as Homeless Cabaret Singer. His several scenes, particuarly his drag performance of Everything's Coming Up Lydia, as he channels his inner Ethel Merman is not to be missed. I'd go so far as to call him adorable - but not in the cloying way you might think . . . or fear.  Jeter's performance adds yet another level of pathos and brings a strong reminder of some of the really tough parts of the 80's and early 90's:  homelessness, AIDS, and mental illness. It's a short performance but, oh my, is it a powerful one.

Cinematographer Roger Pratt and production designer Mel Bourne, give the New York locations, especially the East River bank, Central Park and Parry's abode, a feeling of timelessness . . . both modern and medieval. There are scenes of magic that just seem to happen, such as the passengers in a jam packed Grand Central Station breaking into a grand waltz. . . . or the gentle beauty of Parry's narration of the titular Fisher King as Jack watches, listening to the tale and its teller absolutely rapt in awe. Countless bits of detail, all amazing touches - such as these fill and fuel the beauty of this movie.

In discussing the film with a fellow opera and movie fanatic, she brought up what she believed was a reason so many film critics panned The Fisher King:  "One needs an operatic sensibility to appreciate this kind of movie."  That was IT!  Gilliam's film was sort of a filmic/visual opera, so it made perfect sense why they didn't adore it as we had.  It also made sense learning how after this, Gilliam went on to produce and direct opera, notably two grandious Berlioz spectacles:   Benvenuto Cellini and Damnation du Faust, which appeared at houses in London, Spain, Holland, Germany, Rome, and Palermo.

So, okay, The Fisher King is not a movie for everyone.  That's just fine by me.