The Fisher King

Anyone familiar with the work of Terry Gilliam, I’m sure will be aware of his distinctive ability to splice and integrate genres and themes within his films. In 1985’s ‘Brazil’ we see drama, satire and romance fused with fantasy and sci-fi, while 2006’s genre defying ‘Tideland’, my personal Gilliam favourite, combines elements of dream-like surrealism with gritty drama. With ‘The Fisher King’ (1991) we see a slightly more conventional platform for Gilliam’s unique vision. Set in New York, ‘The Fisher King’ could be described as part drama, part comedy and part romance, primarily following the relationship between a suicidal DJ named Jack (Jeff Bridges) and a psychologically deranged homeless man called Parry (Robin Williams), as they embark on a quest for personal redemption and romance.

For a number of reasons, I really enjoyed ‘The Fisher King’. To begin with, the direction is as reliably inventive and visually resplendent as one would expect from Gilliam. In one especially notable scene, we see a bustling subway station magically transformed into a majestic ballroom, the passengers passing through the station also being subject to this transformation, now gracefully dancing with, and amongst one another. This transition takes place as the homeless Parry follows Lydia (Amanda Plummer), the woman with whom he has fallen deeply in love with over the course of seeing her pass through the station every day. Gilliam’s masterful direction in whimsically altering the physical surroundings of the character as a means to represent their state of mind is a common trait in his work, and is as ambitious and awe-inspiring as ever.

The cast of ‘The Fisher King’ are equally impressive in their performances, with Jeff Bridges turning in a typically solid, perfectly measured portrayal of Jack Lucas. However, one of the strongest and most surprising aspects of the film is the superb performance from Robin Williams as Parry. For me Williams has always been a source of massive irritation. A performer whose sheer presence can be enough to ruin a scene, for fear of a typically ‘wacky’ outburst, usually consisting of him shouting lots and leaping around like an over-excited child. An insufferably drawn out and familiar routine, I think you’ll agree. Yet here he manages to keep the balance just right, maintaining the manic edge of the character whilst providing a subtle aura of shyness and fragility that is at times both deeply moving and heart-warming. The moment that he finally professes his love for Lydia almost had me in tears, such was the beauty of the performances in the scene from Williams and Plummer.

In many ways ‘The Fisher King’ could be seen as Gilliam’s most ambitious film. Though many may argue otherwise, that the likes of ‘Brazil’ and ‘Tideland’ are far more visually experimental and deal with seemingly more difficult subject matter, it is for this very reason that I believe the opposite. For Terry Gilliam to release a ‘difficult’ or ‘surreal’ film is generally a to be expected, whereas to produce a mainstream film that is at times funny, heart-warming, tragic and romantic, is in my view, a somewhat more difficult challenge. Particularly, as it retains all the classic Gilliam hallmarks of experimentalism and creative integrity. Although it doesn’t quite take the crown of Gilliam’s best from ‘Tideland’, it’s certainly a close runner-up.