From being the “other” member of the Monty Python troupe largely tasked with playing grotesque bit parts and interspersing sketches with anarchic animated segments, Terry Gilliam graduated to feature film direction and carved out his own unique path in both the British and Hollywood film industries. Gilliam never compromises on his vision and has paid for it multiple times over his career, some projects taking years to get off the ground or eventually arriving compromised in one way or another. 

In The Film Magazine’s latest Ranked list of a director’s entire body of work, we are looking at the mischievous animator, satirist and once Python who is sometimes prone to get completely lost in his own imagination. These are all 13 Terry Gilliam directed features ranked. 

Follow @thefilmagazine on X (Twitter).

13. The Brothers Grimm (2005)

Conman brothers (Heath Ledger and Matt Damon) arrive in a town under the shadow of a terrible curse and must become reluctant heroes.

Adapting the lives of the famous German author siblings into a story not that far removed from their own macabre fairy tale-spinning sensibilities, The Brothers Grimm sounded like a fascinating prospect on the page at least.

The final film is fine, but it has a tone problem and takes too much time to settle on what it is trying to be. Even the combined charm of Ledger and Damon as the titular siblings can’t save it from being a bit muddy and samey.

Recommended for you: 10 Best Matt Damon Performances

12. The Zero Theorem (2013)

In a dystopian future, a reclusive programmer (Christoph Waltz) is ordered by his shadowy overlords to prove that life, the universe and everything is meaningless.

Terry Gilliam’s long-awaited return to steampunk science fiction 18 years after Twelve Monkeys and 28 years after Brazil was probably never going to meet sky-high expectations.

This definitely has the right look and feel to make it of a piece with Gilliam’s 80s and 90s classics but, despite the best efforts of a thoroughly weird Waltz leading an ensemble of entertaining character actors, this leaves you feeling oddly cold and disconnected.

Following various unfulfilling small-screen animation gigs, Gilliam eventually got his start directing features along with Terry Jones on 1975’s Monty Python and the Holy Grail, where he was largely responsible for the film’s atmospheric look and, to paraphrase one of his fellow Pythons, “making it look like a real movie”.

For four and a half decades, Terry Gilliam has maintained his highly distinctive aesthetic with retrofuturist elements for his science fiction, classical art influences for his fantasy, and phantasmagorical asides for everything else, his tonal style skewing towards the darkly comic and his go-to themes being anti-authoritarian. His boundless ambition, and habit of packing his films with more interesting ideas than can be comfortably contained in any given screen, is the reason his films are always interesting but many don’t quite stick the landing.

Gilliam’s projects have often not gone smoothly, from the production nightmare that was Baron Munchausen causing unforgivable stress, injury and trauma to several of its cast and crew, to Heath Ledger passing away midway through filming The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus, to The Man Who Killed Don Quixote infamously taking a full thirty years to actually make.

Of his 13 feature films to date, where should you start this mad odyssey? This is one recommended route into a unique artistic mind, probably accompanied by a rude animated guide (you’ll have to imagine that part). This is Where to Start with Terry Gilliam.

1. Brazil (1985)

Brazil (1985): A Cut Above the Rest

The tone is set by the first thing we see in Brazil, a TV ad with a man telling us “I want to talk to you about ducts”. 

Terry Gilliam’s films are never lacking in imagination, but he tends to have two speed settings: surrealist comedy and pitch-black dystopia. 12 Monkeys, The Zero Theorem and most prominently this film (just one of many informal trilogies in his career) sit firmly in the latter camp.

We follow Sam Lowry (Jonathan Pryce) a drone in a nightmarish fascist bureaucracy who unexpectedly receives a promotion to the mysterious Information Retrieval Department. There, he unintentionally attracts the attention of sinister government agents as he searches for a beautiful woman he sees in his dreams every night.

Brazil blurs boundaries of reality from the start, our introduction to our protagonist presenting him soaring through the clouds looking like David Bowie dressed as a warrior angel. From then on it’s up for debate how much of Sam’s story actually occurs and what is just his own mind’s defence mechanism against acknowledging the horrible things that are happening to him.

Gilliam’s influences, like Fritz Lang’s Metropolis and George Orwell’s ‘1984’, are clear, but unusually for a dystopian sci-fi (in addition to the fact that it’s set at Christmas) this isn’t so much about actually overthrowing the tyrannical rulers as it is about the liberation of escaping them through your dreams. You have to think there’s a real-world parallel with Gilliam’s artistic hurdles and battles with studio executives here.

The system is awful, but there’s little chance of overcoming it even with such people like Robert DeNiro’s heating repair man-turned revolutionary Harry Tuttle (who may or may not be real). This is a world where a misfiled form can be a death sentence and the families of political prisoners are forced to cover the costs of their own interrogation, or “information retrieval”, with a payment plan. Brazil may be more comic than most movie dystopias, but it’s more bleak and hopeless in many ways as well. 

Here Gilliam somehow even managed to make Michael Palin, famously the nicest of the Pythons, absolutely terrifying as an affable torturer, and there’s plenty of pitch-black, bordering on morbid humour amongst the satirically exaggerated social commentary and the duct-laden Art Deco mise-en-scéne.

2. The Adventures of Baron Munchausen (1988)

The Adventures of Baron Munchausen is Gilliam at his absolute battiest, his imagination firing on all cylinders. This shares a lot of the same DNA as Time Bandits, both being temporal-hopping road trips loosely linking fantasy vignettes starring character actors and comedians (here including Eric Idle, Oliver Reed and Robin Williams).

In Gilliam’s version of the frequently-adapted tall tale, the titular adventurer (John Neville) tells his remarkable, likely made-up story in a tumbledown theatre as the years roll back around him, reality responding to his colourful words as he recounts many fantastic adventures with companions of extraordinary skill. 

A lot of Gilliam’s scripts work on a dream logic, and Munchausen makes for an inexplicably detailed and trippy dream. The story, while it can certainly be enchanting in its way, is episodic by nature and does go on a bit like any long and rambling story told by a grandparent.

Such imaginative sights presented to us include a Georges Méliès-esque trip to the moon to meet its disembodied floating head king (Williams), a visit to Vulcan (Reed) and Venus (Uma Thurman), and an epic battle against the Ottoman Empire.

You can tell it had a troubled production, because the strain of the performers and the joins between story segments all too often show, but that doesn’t make it any less fascinating to experience. The admittedly impressive battle scene that serves as the film’s finale wasn’t the only reason, but it was the the primary cause of the film going disastrously over schedule and at least $10 million over budget. 

Eric Idle pretty much summed up the experience for audiences vs participants in the project: “You don’t ever want to be in them. Go and see them by all means – but to be in them, fucking madness!”

Even so, it’s just so beautiful to look at, its Oscar-nominated production design (from frequent Martin Scorsese collaborator Dante Ferretti), the vivid worlds imagined, the sheer scale, the still impressive effects, and Gilliam’s trademark sideshow designs, helping to make every frame exquisite.

3. The Fisher King (1991)

The Fisher King is Terry Gilliam’s most thematically complex and emotionally compelling film, and probably his most complete-feeling one as well; a modern Arthurian legend with surprises aplenty.

Acerbic but charming former late night DJ Jack Lucas (Jeff Bridges, basically playing Howard Stern) becomes increasingly fascinated by the apparently mentally ill homeless man Parry (Robin Williams) and the fairy tale quest he is undertaking.

For the first twenty minutes of the film, the ex-Python’s normal exuberant style is pretty dialled back, going for a grounded and gritty New York drama. But, pretty much perfectly in time with the first appearance of Robin Williams, his Gilliam-ness comes to the fore and the fantastical begins to seep through. 

The director would not see his version of “Don Quixote” come to fruition for decades, so in the meantime he busied himself with a contemporary analogue that replaced Cervantes’ knight errant with a tenuous grip on reality with a modern man seriously down on his luck and an undiagnosed personality disorder.

Gilliam’s film worlds are usually more overtly theatrical, fantastical and over-the-top, but this feels like a real-world story seen through a magical realist lens. We genuinely feel for Parry and his trauma, and also want to see Jack leave his worst habits behind, both men helping each other become more complete as people.

That said, the individual images of a flaming red knight charging through a New York park in the dead of night, and the staggering achievement that is the meticulously choreographed and hopelessly romantic waltz around Grand Central Station (amazingly filmed over a single night), are enough reason to recommend the film almost by themselves.

Recommended for you: Where to Start with Paul Verhoeven

Terry Gilliam has left much behind since his days as the “other” Python, but since moving behind the camera and unlocking the dark, mischievous recesses of his mind, he has crafted two dozen undoubtedly flawed but undeniably unforgettable films. If you’re intrigued after watching all of the above and want to delve further, it’s an adventure worth pursuing; you’re bound to be entertainingly beguiled at the very least.

Whether you think so or not, the action classic starring Bruce Willis and the late, great Alan Rickman proves that one can set a movie at the most magical time of year without packing it full of seasonal tropes. After all, Christmas isn’t fun for everyone. It can be a dark, gritty, dangerous time, especially if you’re a downtrodden bureaucrat, an alcoholic cop, or a kid who has just been gifted an apparently harmless and adorable mogwai.

In this Movie List, we here at The Film Magazine have scoured the annals of film history to put together this selection of 10 Excellent Non-Christmas Films Set at Christmas. Ten films we’re sure will add a different flavour to your holiday watch lists.

Follow @thefilmagazine on Twitter.

1. In Bruges (2008)

10 Best In Bruges Moments

Martin McDonagh’s thrilling feature debut transports us to Bruges, the Belgian town that’s “like a fairy tale”, as Ralph Fiennes’ cockney villain constantly reminds us.

The plot, twisting like the canals of Bruges itself, features comedy, betrayal, love, blood, and guts, whilst Christmas lights just happen to gleam all around.

If you want to feel a little seasonal without being beaten over the head with Christmas spirit, this Irish dark comedy starring Colin Farrell and Brendan Gleeson may be exactly what you need.

2. Brazil (1985)

Terry Gilliam’s dystopian epic shows us what those shopping-mall Santas can be like off-duty. Much like the Christmas industry, every kind face has a nasty one beneath.

Very little is nice about Brazil, which tells the story of Sam Lowry (Jonathan Pryce) seeking love and freedom in a Kafkaesque nightmare. Cinematically beautiful and ultimately terrifying, Gilliam’s vision of the future mirrors much of today’s world. We see that, behind the shiny consumerism, there are systems upon systems upon systems of red tape, corrupt officials, and crushed dreams.

Recommended for you: Katie Doyle’s ‘Movies I Had a Religious/Spiritual Experience with’ Part 3 (featuring Brazil & In Bruges)

One such an answer that is often the cause of grievance and controversy is John McTiernan’s Die Hard (1988). For those who adore the season’s staples such as White Christmas and It’s A Wonderful Life, and modern favourites such as Elf and Love Actually, the idea that a film about a showdown between a single NYPD officer and a group of vicious terrorists is even considered a Christmas film is, frankly, disgusting.

Well, sorry haters, but it turns out that Die Hard is actually part of a long tradition of non-conventional Christmas flicks – we have an extensive catalogue of Christmas Horrors for example, from Black Christmas in 1974 to Krampus in 2015. Christmas even makes its appearances in the most unlikely of plots: Terry Gilliam’s masterpiece Brazil, an Orwellian black comedy, is a prime example, as is the legendary crime thriller The French Connection. However, neither of these examples are considered Christmas movies (not even in the alternative or ironic sense), and rightly so. Christmas isn’t the focus of these films and is in fact used to highlight the darkness and evil of the stories it’s used in. That’s not very festive at all!

How Can a film Be Considered a True Christmas Movie Beyond the Mere Inclusion of the Holiday?

If we ignore the blatant capitalist message behind nearly every mainstream Yuletide film, we should consider the real message behind the original Christmas Story – The Nativity of course.

Pushing past the shepherds, kings and angels, Christmas is essentially the tale of light shining in the darkness, living in the hope of reconciliation and redemption. These are therefore the essential themes of any real Christmas film. Natalie Hayes of BBC Culture, in her article “The Magic Formula that Makes the Perfect Christmas Film”, noted that for a film to be considered a true Christmas movie, it must include the following elements: desire, a touch of magic, the value of family, and of course a dose of trial and tribulation for our heroes to overcome.

As hollow as some of these films seem to be to the lovers of a more Traditional Noel, the likes of Jingle All the Way do in fact meet these requirements, and with Die Hard being one of the most exceptional and beloved action movies of all time, it seems a very reasonable choice as a favourite Christmas film too. But what has come to my notice is the criminal overlooking of another alternative festive watch, one with striking similarities to Die Hard, released only a year prior: Lethal Weapon.

Like Die Hard, Richard Donner’s film meets the pre-requisites of a Christmas Classic and is again one of the most popular action movies from the 80s, likewise spawning an iconic franchise. Have we been duped all along with putting our money behind the inferior flick, or is Die Hard truly the superior of the pair? On the basis of which film boasts the truest Christmas Spirit, let us experience the most exciting of movie battles… Die Hard vs Lethal Weapon.

Desire

Is there an element of desire in these films? A want for something unattainable?

This is the first of the many uncanny similarities between Lethal Weapon and Die Hard, as both display a desire for a return to normality.

In Die Hard, John McClane (Bruce Willis) is flying to L.A from New York to see his wife Holly Gennaro (Bonnie Bedelia) on Christmas Eve, who works at the Nakatomi Plaza which is throwing a party. It becomes apparent that this is the first time John and Holly have seen each other in over six months and that they are more or less separated (especially as Holly is now going by her maiden name). It is revealed that Holly’s move to L.A. for a once in a lifetime promotion became a point of contention in their relationship – we don’t know exactly why, but it’s easy enough to make some assumptions: back in 1988, finding out that your wife is making more money than you would be an enormous shake up in the family dynamic, possibly too much for some men to handle. It is clear though, that although they are estranged, their marriage isn’t finished – Holly and John obviously still have feelings for one another, but it’s mixed in with a great deal of hurt, stopping them from seeing eye to eye. Thus we have the desire element: John wants a return to normality, the re-establishment of his traditional family set up (very nuclear, with the man being the breadwinner and all), but more importantly he desires to be a part of his family’s lives again.

Lethal Weapon has a more convergent plot than Die Hard.

It begins with the daily life of two LAPD police detectives – Roger Murtaugh (Danny Glover), a fairly buttoned-down distinguished officer who enjoys the comforts of marital and familial bliss (and is learning to try to age gracefully), and Martin Riggs (Mel Gibson), a seemingly unattached man who is a total loose cannon on the job, wreaking havoc in his wake. The plot gleefully puts this odd couple together. It is Riggs who is the festive focal point of the movie as it his character that embodies the required desire element. Riggs’ careless and dangerous behaviour at work is suspected to be caused by suicidal tendencies after recently losing his wife in a car accident. There are occasions where it seems Riggs indeed wants to end his life, but this is actually more the desire to be reunited with his wife – the desire to be in a loving relationship again, the desire to have purpose.

It seems to be contradictory to the spirit of Christmas to have the film focus on the likes of depression and suicide, let alone in a film with probably the most insensitive approach to these topics, but that would be ignoring the fact that one of the most popular Christmas movies of all time, It’s A Wonderful Life, is about the divine intervention of an Angel working to stop a man from taking his own life on Christmas Eve. Die Hard is also depicting a common theme in Christmas fare, which is the impending breakdown of the family unit seen in the likes of The Preacher’s Wife and The Santa Clause. Technically both films are winning Brownie Points on that front, but the desire element is far more visceral in the case of Lethal Weapon: a shot of a teary-eyed Riggs shakily placing the end of the gun in his mouth after looking at the wedding photos of his dead wife is truly impactful.

Magic

The magic we could see in the likes of Die Hard and Lethal Weapon is not going to be in the traditional vein: no angels, no reindeer, no pixie dust, and very sadly no Santa Claus! That does not mean, however, that the magic they do have is not completely spine-tingling.

At first glance, the magic in Lethal Weapon is rather elusive, but it becomes apparent that the touch of Magic is indeed Martin Riggs, or really more Martin Riggs’ unorthodox policing methods:

“You’re not trying to draw a psycho pension! You really are crazy!”

In the real world, Riggs’ behaviour is not the kind to praise or laud, but Riggs’ apparent death wish makes him an almost unstoppable crime-fighting force – a lethal weapon. From deescalating a possible shootout by scaring the life out of a perpetrator, and saving a potential jumper’s life by throwing himself off the building whilst cuffed to them, it can be said Riggs gets the job done (in the most thoroughly entertaining way possible). However, his magical powers aren’t fully activated until he and Murtaugh are captured by the movie’s villainous drug barons – is it the electric shock torture or the power of new found friendship with Roger Murtaugh? Either way, Riggs is propelled into overcoming his captors and killing every bad guy that stands in his way, all in the name of rescuing his new partner. By the time we reach the climax, he is brutalised and half-drowned, yet he still manages to subdue the film’s Big Bad, Joshua (Gary Busey), by the power of his thighs alone. Magic.

With all that said, John McClane smirks and replies with a “Hold my beer.”

Die Hard is a more plot-driven story which lends itself to even more glorious action movie magic. It is made clear from the very beginning that McClane possesses the power of snarkiness, but the storming of Nakatomi Plaza by Hans Gruber’s (Alan Rickman’s) team of terrorists/thieves, catches McClane with his pants down (or rather with his shoes and socks off), leaving him to watch helplessly as the revellers of the office party are rounded up as hostages and Holly’s boss Mr Takagi (James Shigeta) is murdered. Luckily a present from Santa Claus re-establishes his cocky self-assuredness:

“Now I have a machine gun. Ho, ho, ho.”

In the 2 hour run-time, we witness McClane relentlessly wiggle his way out of tight squeezes using the meagre resources at his disposal (which he usually attains by annihilating some hapless bad guy), whether its irritating Gruber with smart-ass comments through a stolen walkie-talkie or tossing the body of a man out of the window in an attempt to attract help from the outside. It is once McClane manages to get the attention of the LAPD (the corpse-tossing worked a treat) that the real magic begins, which is the revelation that McClane is better than everyone else alive, including you – ironic given that he spent the first half hour desperately crying out for help.

Recommended for you: I’m a 90s Kid and I Watched Die Hard for the First Time This Year

John McClane resolves the terrorist siege single-handedly despite the presence of the LAPD, SWAT and the FBI; in fact McClane saves these apparent bozos from the machinations of the terrorists several times (whilst being mistaken as some sort of psycho killer to boot). Such a magical moment includes McClane blowing up a whole floor of terrorists (without miraculously harming any of the hostages), thus stopping their rocket launcher onslaught against the unsuspecting SWAT teams attempting to storm the plaza. Another noteworthy moment is when he rescues all the hostages from certain death seconds before some idiotic FBI agents unwittingly blow up a helipad they were gathered on (and as if saving countless lives isn’t enough, he narrowly escapes this chaos by leaping off the building with only a fire hose to save him from gravity).

It can’t be denied that the police politics of this 80s classic would be unnerving to modern eyes with its idolisation of McClane’s almost vigilante brand of justice, but with a healthy dose of self-awareness Die Hard is the ultimate power fantasy; one that is guaranteed to put a smile on your face. The exact kind of magic that you would need and want at Christmas.

As a basic siege film, the physical dangers faced by John McClane in Die Hard are of a much greater intensity than that of the leading duo in Lethal Weapon: the action is non-stop and quick paced, and far more shocking and gory. However, whilst Die Hard is driven by its plot, Lethal Weapon is more character focused, and as a consequence the psychological hurdles presented in Lethal Weapon are much more immense than those seen in Die Hard, despite the huge amount of peril Holly and John McClane face.

The Value of Family

It is now time to consider how much family is valued in these films; starting with Die Hard…

Is this film not just a metaphor for marriage and the active battle that is maintaining such a relationship?

It has to be confessed that it’s not exactly hard to be initially disappointed by John when we first meet him. It appears he has let his fragile masculinity get in the way of his marriage as he struggles to cope with his wife’s flourishing career. But my goodness is this an incredible attempt at reconciliation; the man walks over broken glass barefoot for Christ’s sake!

As we all know, big grand gestures can often be empty and meaningless; it is changed behaviour that is the real apology. So what a brilliant way to finish off this metaphor with Hans Gruber being defeated by John and Holly working together; transforming their marriage into a partnership – a union of absolute equals. It earns their riding off into the sunset, entangled in each other’s arms, and so gives us that desired cosy Christmas feeling – excellent!

Lethal Weapon, by comparison, has no such romantic metaphor; it instead depicts the very real devastation caused by unimaginable loss.

Martin Riggs is a man who is constantly putting himself and others in danger through his reckless behaviour, as he is now without purpose. He does state that it is “the job” that has so far prevented him from eating one of his own bullets, but the way he achieves results still points to a blatant death wish.

It’s when the initially dubious Murtaugh begins to let his guard down and allows Riggs into his inner sanctum, inviting him into his family home, that we see a transformation in Riggs. For you see, the central criminal scandal of Lethal Weapon – ex Vietnam War Special Forces officers turned drug baron mercenaries – most deeply affects Murtaugh; he is the most entangled and has the most to lose from this situation. By actually giving Riggs a chance (whose life literally hangs in the balance if he can’t find a working partnership), Riggs no longer lives dangerously for the sake of trying to feel alive whilst consumed with grief, he instead directs all of his ferocity towards protecting Murtaugh and his interests; this deep sense of caring spreads to the wider community surrounding him, seen when he is willing to grapple in the mud with Joshua after he murdered his fellow officers.

Lethal Weapon, in the contest of greatest redemption arc, takes the victory: Riggs is quite literally pulled from the jaws of death by the power of found family through his partnership with Murtaugh – they even share Christmas dinner. This transformation from death to life proves that Lethal Weapon values family the greatest.

True Christmas films are affairs of great emotion, our heroes often go through hell to then be redeemed with the happiest of endings. This is true for both Die Hard and Lethal Weapon, but it is proven that Lethal Weapon boasts the most intense and emotionally driven Christmas tale of hope.

All you Die Hard fans may have to reconsider your all-time favourite Christmas film, but if you guys don’t change your mind, there is nothing but respect for you: Die Hard is pretty kickass.

Recommended for you: 10 Excellent Non-Christmas Films Set at Christmas

Time Bandits (1981)
Director: Terry Gilliam
Screenwriters: Terry Gilliam, Michael Palin
Starring: Craig Warnock, David Rappaport, Kenny Baker, Michael Palin, John Cleese, Sean Connery, Ian Holm

US-born filmmaker Terry Gilliam has had a widely varied career and has proven himself over the course of five decades to be one of the most individualistic directors working in the industry (albeit often frustratingly for producers, studios and fans). Following his efforts as a member of Monty Python in the late 60s and throughout the 70s, Gilliam became a truly notable director in his own right during the 1980s. One of his earliest efforts away from the Pythons is 1981’s Time Bandits, a more light-hearted film than those he would later develop a reputation for making with Brazil and Twelve Monkeys, a comedy-adventure that seems like something of an oddball in the director’s canon of work but is a blast nonetheless.

Gilliam himself has referred to Bandits as the first in his Trilogy of Imagination – that being a series of films about “the ages of man” also including Brazil (1985) and The Adventures of Baron Munchausen (1988) – and the film has amassed something of a cult following over the past four decades, a fact apparent from its 5-star reviews in Empire Magazine and The Guardian, as well as the imminent adaptation of its material into a television series under the guidance of Jojo Rabbit and Thor: Ragnarok screenwriter-director Taika Waititi.

The 1981 film focuses on imaginative 11 year-old Kevin (Craig Warnock) who lives an unhappy life distant from his parents and is roped into a series of adventures by an assortment of time-travelling dwarves who have stolen a mysterious map. Gilliam invites us along for a ride that includes encounters with historical figures Napoleon Bonaparte and Robin Hood (among others), and treats us to a wide assortment of guest appearances and cameos that are designed to put a smile on your face – the most notable of which is probably that of fellow Python alum and co-Bandits-screenwriter Michael Palin, who appears in a supporting role just as zany and whimsical as one might expect, even boasting a God-like voice-over reminiscent of God’s appearance in Monty Python and the Holy Grail.

The casting in Gilliam’s films is rarely anything but exceptional, and in Time Bandits it is a true highlight. Joining Palin is the late Ian Holm who is given a chance to flex his comedic muscles in a brief but nevertheless hilarious turn as Napoleon, and there’s a post-Bond appearance from Sean Connery who makes the most of his role as Agamemnon with whom Kevin forms an immediate bond. There’s even a cameo for another Python, John Cleese, and the briefest of screen time for Peter Vaughan (‘Porridge’; ‘Game of Thrones’) and a young Jim Broadbent (Little Voice).

There are perhaps some pacing issues at points and our crew of misfits do seem to get themselves into an assortment of similar scrapes throughout, but the sheer variety of rogues and creatures encountered along the way makes up for this in the most part, fun and imagination being the victors of the day in this early 80s romp.

Time Bandits is arguably one of Gilliam’s more accessible vehicles and certainly not a bad place to dive into his repertoire. The likes of Brazil and 12 Monkeys are far more adult orientated and boast significantly darker themes, whereas this entry is a lot more traditionally Pythonesque, it being clear to see how much fun is being had by all, Gilliam honing his craft alongside a number of impressively cast actors in roles we wouldn’t usually associate them with.

While perhaps not one of his most well known efforts, Time Bandits proves a fun-filled adventure with a great cast, one that provided an opportunity for Terry Gilliam to break away from the confines of his previous success with Monty Python. It is an inventive time travel film, something that Gilliam would of course return to with great success later in his career, and in retrospect can act as a showcase to the variety on offer in his work as a filmmaker, its significantly lighter tone holding up remarkably well even 40 years later.

19/24

Written by Christopher Connor

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Please prepare for some heavy theological discussion.

Brazil (1985)

So far, all the movies that I have discussed as part of this series have all led to somewhat joyful experiences. Each of them have, in some way, led me to reflect upon all that is good in this world; the awesomeness of creation, the mystery of what it means to be human and our inherent goodness. However, in almost all religions, there is the recognition of evil in this world that poses a real threat of infecting and consuming the hearts of people, and it is also believed that it is very easy to succumb to this path unless we remain vigilant.

It has often been the films that focus on the darker parts of the human condition that I have found to have an incredible transforming power. One such movie is Brazil, directed by Terry Gilliam. In my religious series, this is the film which has provoked the most visceral reaction from me upon viewing it.

On one dreary, overcast, miserable day, a man sits alone on some squalid English beach determined to enjoy himself as the instantly recognisable notes of “Aquarela do Brasil” float from his radio. This was Terry Gilliam’s inspiration for the name of this movie, set “Somewhere in the 20^th century”.

In a 2015 article – Brazil (1985): A Cut Above the Rest – I tagged this film as a dystopian comedy. I realise it may seem a bit much to label a comedy as being a profound spiritual experience, but bear with me as I believe the laughter really does lend itself to the powerful message of the film, and uses such to set itself apart from its contemporaries.

In the movie, the hero is mild-mannered clerk Sam Lowry who lives in some grey concrete cesspit straight out of a George Orwell novel; a world of soulless occupations, small-minded bureaucracy, and never ending “terrorist attacks”. Oh gosh, that sounds rather familiar, doesn’t it? Well that’s why this film is such a killer. Apart from the likes of 1984, Brave New World and The Hunger Games which conjure up improbable worst case scenarios, Brazil is simply a reflection of real life. The farcical routines that Sam Lowry finds himself in enforces its realism, as it can’t help but remind you of all those ridiculous situations that only to happen to us on the worst days of our lives – with which significant distance helps you to eventually learn to laugh at over time. Through our laughter at the slapstick and vitriolic wit, we connect to Sam and see ourselves in this every man, but this empathy ends up being a bitter pill to swallow as it can’t help but to make us have a hard and unflattering look at our own lives.

The story’s crux is based on an injustice served to a character without a single line, Mr Buttle. A squashed bug in a printer leads to an administrative error in which the nobody cobbler is mistaken for heating engineer come suspected terrorist, Tuttle. A simple and pleasant family evening, with all the children excited for Christmas, becomes a Gestapo-like nightmare with poor daddy cuffed, clamped and spirited away to unspeakable torture which eventually kills him. They were using Tuttle’s file so how were they to know that Buttle had a heart defect? And you see, because you have to pay for your own information extraction, the ministry is left with the dreadful pickle of refunding the dead man for his trouble over this little misunderstanding. True to all real bureaucracies, the little embarrassing issue of the receipt of compensation is simply passed from department to department, no one willing to deal with it. This is where Sam, the talented clerk with his savvy touch in committing minor fraud, comes in.

Now, in my previous work I have identified Sam Lowry as the hero of Brazil, with the ruling ministries of his world as the villain of the piece. The Ministry of Information with all its pawns and faces such as Deputy Minister, Mr Helpman, and callous torturer Jack Lint, embody the evil recognisable in the contemporary systems of power in the 20^th and 21^st centuries. Recognisable evil that spans from the more menacing aspects of the Nazi regime and Stalinist Russia in which any non-conformists are locked up and destroyed, to the more incompetent like the abundance of obsolete departments overlapping each other, leading to daily drudgery for the poorest in society. Funnily enough the super-rich and powerful do alright, which is again spookily familiar, but something I’ve overlooked up until very recently is that Lowry himself is also a complacent little cog in this horrible government. He has found his own happy little niche of mediocrity which gives him the perfect protection of insignificance. He sits disinterested in the face of devastating terrorist attacks, intent on finishing his lunch instead, and stands in embarrassment as a recently widowed woman falls into a ghastly breakdown over the fate of her husband’s body. He’s a bit of a pathetic prick really.

It is evident that Sam’s aspiration transcends this Orwellian-Gilliamian nightmare through his desires of heroism and companionship. But to be harsh, everyone has dreams like this, and it doesn’t make Sam any more virtuous than his neighbour. Unless you do anything about these internal musings, they don’t define you as a person. In all brutal honesty, it is what you do in life that actually counts. These are thoughts that have come from my own self-reflection. Like Sam, I spend a good portion of my own free time indulging in dreams and fantasies, and I have felt frustrated that I have gotten nowhere in these fanciful aspirations. I know this is because I am wasting my time ruminating rather than doing anything about it, and with this jarring reflection to my own life, I have only recently come to understand part of my visceral reaction to this movie. It seems Sam’s transformation must have always given me a trickle of hope.

During Sam’s trip to get rid of the ministry’s embarrassing accounting anomaly, the impossible happens and he stumbles upon the literal woman on his dreams. This personification of Lowry’s fantasy is the poor, hardy truck driver Jill, who has been trying to help her downstairs neighbour Mrs Buttle get justice for her missing husband. Sam knows immediately he has to get close to Jill. Yes, it is for his own selfish purposes at first, but his mission brings him out of his shell, becoming the brave figure of his own imagination. Jill’s fierce sense of justice pricks Sam’s own conscience as he sees beyond his own life and becomes aware of the suffering around him. Corny as it is, it is love that turns Sam into a hero – desperate to save Jill’s life, he puts himself in unspeakable danger without a thought, taking on the very despicable workings of the ministry itself. Sam truly lives in the way I want to live: fearless in the face of evil for the sake of love.

Admittedly, this would all be meaningless schmaltz if it were not for possibly the most powerful ending I have ever seen in cinema. The first selfless actions of Sam Lowry’s life don’t go unnoticed, and he too is captured like Buttle and bundled away to excruciatingly painful and expensive torture, provided by his old chum Jack. For a moment we think love prevails via a Robert De Niro shaped Deus Ex Machina, but alas, it is but his mind providing one last reverie as it finally snaps under Jack’s deft handiwork. I remember watching the credits roll to Sam’s murmurs of “Aquarela do Brasil” in a state of shock. How could they!? I finally understood. Unlike Universal’s inferior edit, Love Does not Conquer All, but being able to recognise the evil of the movie in my own life, it is much better to live briefly fighting for the sake of love and humanity than to face a lifetime of misery by allowing my soul become consumed by the system which, to quote Charlie Chaplin, “makes men torture and imprison innocent people”.

In Bruges (2008)

Well, look here, Ralph Fiennes has managed to make a third appearance in this religious series; how odd. I don’t even know where to start with this though, and I feel like I’m going to do the movie a massive injustice but here I go anyway. A film of teeth clashing contradictions being the most irreverently offensive examination of morality committed to cinema; the funniest tragedy and the most tragic comedy I have ever seen. The debut feature length flick of writer/director Martin McDonagh heralded the start of an auspicious career in Hollywood, resulting in one of this year’s most highly acclaimed Oscar nominees, Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri. Amazing his turn in America has been with the likes of the brilliant Seven Psychopaths, his more modest and decidedly Irish/British outing holds a very special place in my heart and those of many of my generation.

Perpetually bored yet deeply troubled townie hitman Ray (Farrell) is aghast when he and his partner Ken (Gleeson) are sent by their mob boss Harry (Fiennes) to Bruges – a sleepy but enchanting little town in Belgium – after a job gone wrong. A thoroughly modern gentleman, Ray is not content in seeing the many beautiful sights of Bruges, and instead wreaks havoc upon locals and tourists alike by the means of cocaine, midgets, botched muggings and vengeance in the name of John Lennon. Now I don’t know if any of you saw the trailer when it was first out, but it looked like a riotous action movie with sprinklings of dark humour – a kind of European buddy movie. However, upon watching it I was shocked to instead find a deeply moving and personal piece on man’s pain and guilt, for you see the infamous botched job isn’t just a case of a hitman getting sloppy: Ray has accidentally murdered a little boy.

I am still in such disbelief that this was McDonagh’s first feature length film as it is a work of pure genius on many levels but most evidently in his meticulous orchestration. The first 15 to 20 minutes cover Ken’s and Ray’s impromptu arrival in Bruges, comprising of stunning scenery filled with cutting remarks and insults between the pair (and the occasional unfortunate bystander) which leave you doing ugly snorts of laughter.

“Maybe if I grew up on a farm and was r*traded…”

“You’s a bunch of f*ckin’ elephants!”

“One gay beer for my gay friend…”

Brendan Gleeson’s and Colin Farrell’s remarkably believable performances during these squabbles produces comedy gold. The more mature Ken’s increasingly futile attempts to enjoy culture perfectly matches with Ray’s ignorant resistance to the place, his summing up of history as “…a load of stuff that’s already happened” being the perfect soundbite of his contradicting opinion. The pinnacle of this is Ken’s barely restrained furious exasperation at Ray’s reaction to the chance touching a vial of Christ’s blood as a chore:

“Do you have to?! Of course you don’t have to! It’s Jesus’ f*cking blood, isn’t it! Of course you don’t f*cking have to! OF COURSE YOU DON’T F*CKING HAVE TO!”

It is quite impossible to not love the both of them, as it is hard to see Ken and Ray as made-up people, the genuine laughter summoned by Mcdonagh’s witty script forges a true affection for these characters. So, the reveal of the murder of the little boy awaiting confession in his local Catholic church literally wrenches the air from your body. It was the first time in my life I felt genuine ambivalence – I had spent about 20 minutes laughing my arse off beforehand and now I wanted to cry and throw up.

Along with putting his audience through excruciating emotional athletics, McDonagh seems intent on smashing up cinematic conventions (which he does in a very Meta manner in his next film Seven Psychopaths). Hitmen in Hollywood are cold-blooded, ruthless brutes, detached and lacking any links with humanity. It is also not a Tinsel town norm to show a kid getting blown away by an assassin. However, these deviations from established movie-making norms is not just for the sake of it or to be an “edgy individual”, it is to help McDonagh underline his point; a message so important to him he has been compelled to make a movie about it. With the barest look at the surface, you could say that Ken and Ray are not good people: they kill people for money. However, if you dig even further, you see that they are still both quite terrible. Murdered lollipop men, women punched in the face, drugs stolen, and rude things said to Americans all stand against their character. Taking the comedy aside, the business and world they live in is undeniably a dark path. In a religious sense they have sinned, murdered, broken a commandment – acts which can be held against them on the day of judgement, the idea of which looms over the both of them: heaven, hell or the “inbetweeny one”, purgatory.

Still, within a religious sense – specifically Catholicism with which there are obvious nods to in the film – to label Ken and Ray as irredeemably evil would be completely untrue. Ken’s genuine enjoyment of Bruges shows an appreciation for the beautiful things in life, and it proves that this love of life goes beyond the superficial delights of the senses and into a deep reverence for life itself. His disgust at Jimmy’s racism (the aforementioned dwarf) during his coke-fuelled rants, shows the pain of a man who had tried to be good, as it is revealed Ken’s wife who was black was murdered by a white man. In good conscience, he cannot let casual offences slide – easy to slip-in racism is what killed his wife. Furthermore, the friendship, respect and honour he feels for Harry, whom he has indebted his life to, cannot be argued with when you can plainly see it in Ken’s pain at his admittance of his own betrayal to Harry. Yet even the power of this enormous betrayal does not damn him as it is an act of mercy, one of the rarest yet sweetest virtues, mercy for a man who needs it the most: Ray. Yes, offensively boorish, terrifyingly violent, child-murdering Ray. Yes, Ray who physically cannot stop weeping over what he has done, who can’t stop thinking of what ifs, Ray who is close to taking his own life as he can’t live with what he has done.

In Bruges is essentially a story of mercy and humanity’s desperate need for it, and through the art of humour it succeeds in convincing us to be kinder people, to use the choices we are given to harvest goodness out of a terrible situation. Now I am going to let you into a little secret: throughout my spiritual series, many of the conclusions I have made about the movies featured aren’t usually my immediate thoughts after seeing them, but what they all do have in common is that they are all incredibly beautifully made films that have all succeeded to produce a visceral reaction in myself of awe, shock or elation. As these emotions calm I usually know that I want to be a better person; it’s only when I actually sit down to discuss (or write about) why I like these movies that I actually discern the subtle messages left within. In Bruges in this case is very special to me as it taps into what I have learned about faith through Catholicism, which Martin McDonagh experienced too (although he has departed from the faith over the years).

The movie’s Confessional scene is the most important in the movie in terms of its message. The Sacrament of Reconciliation as it is known, is one of the most feared acts for those brought up Catholic – brought into a small space, thankfully usually hidden from the priest, you proceed to confess all your failings as a person; the ones which you are truly sorry for, so that you can then be absolved from these transgressions, usually by doing a penance. Despite it being the most hated sacrament, it is one of the most beautiful – it makes you a part of God’s inconceivable plan in creation, it reveals the mystery of what is to be human; that you are a precious treasure, irreplaceable in God’s eyes. God made man in the image of himself – humans have knowledge of good and evil Q.E.D. But God loving his creation gave us free will, so that if we loved him in return, it would be through our own choice and would be a pure unadulterated love. However, the choice to sin is often seductive and we choose to hurt other people, for example by hiring people to kill for money. Because of free will, we would have to pay the consequences for these bad choices – in the ancient Jewish faith in which temple in Jerusalem was an extremely important part, atonement was searched for from God via burnt offerings of sacrificed animals. However, according to Christian doctrine, these sacrifices were simply not enough to make up for the terrible things humans have done to each other, and God knew that the price was our own lives. But as he loved us, he couldn’t abandon us to this fate and took it upon himself to become a human. Jesus Christ was the perfect sacrificial victim for he was a man completely without sin, so through dying and then rising from the dead, doctrine dictates he released us from the burden of our sins. He forgave us for everything we did, even when it meant his own body would be broken and blood spilt. The act of Confession gives a Catholic the chance to experience this forgiveness as our sins are literally absolved and we are given a fresh slate, the opportunity to start anew. It is the opportunity to go relive the moment marked by our Baptism – release from our chains of sin.

Words can’t describe Ray’s understanding of the evil he has committed through his own free will. He is all too aware that the decisions he has made in life have robbed a little boy of his own. He knows he must pay and at one point he believes the price is his own life. But Ray falls a victim to mercy. Ken knows he can change and can still do good in this world. Chloe, the local he meets, offers mercy in the form of affection that could become love, even though she knows he might not deserve it. It is after these small acts of mercy that Ray transforms and becomes a source of goodness in Bruges, stopping innocents from being caught in a gun fight and even trying to save Harry in the aftermath of Harry attempting to murder him. Ray begins to realise he can be saved and feels the want to live again. But true to Catholic tradition, penance is served. Purgatory is not necessarily the middle place – it is a place of waiting, to carry out penance to finally make you fit for heaven. He mistakes Bruges for hell, but it is purgatory, a place of testing. Ray shows mercy and thus he will be saved.

[Author’s note – In Bruges offers a rich source for theological discussion and there are several things I have had to skip over or else this would be probably be a million words long.]

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1. Jake Sully and Neytiri – Avatar

James Cameron’s Na’vi first filled our screens in 2009 and, courtesy of their their striped, blue skin, have been kind of hard to forget. With such a unique costume, you’ll definitely stand out in a crowd! There are 4 more films set to arrive in the next 7-8 years, too. But please spare a thought for those who will have to clean your blue body paint off every surface for weeks to come! (Trust me, I speak from experience…)

2. Mrs. Lovett and Sweeney Todd – Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street

How can you go wrong with these outfits? Tim Burton’s gothic take on the theatrical duo, set in Victorian London, is complete with gory side-effects and people pie. Todd is clad in the classic white shirt, waistcoat and notable hairstyle (bloodstains optional) but Helena Bonham Carter steals the show with her range of corsets, lace and full length skirts. A perfect idea for a couple’s costume, you’ll be sure to make a fabulously grizzly impression.

3. Holly Golightly – Breakfast at Tiffany’s

In one of the most iconic looks in film, Audrey Hepburn dazzles in this simple yet elegant, lengthy, black dress. Adorned with long black gloves, pearls, and of course a tiara, Hepburn’s look has become a timeless classic and would definitely be a graceful addition to any costume party.

4. Jack Skellington and Sally – The Nightmare Before Christmas

Another Tim Burton movie to feature on this list, and perhaps one for the more adventurous makeup artists out there. Both creepy and quirky, Jack and Sally have great costumes which aren’t too commonly seen around town on your average Halloween. And bonus? You could probably recycle the costumes and wear them at Christmas, too.

5. Cecilia Tallis – Atonement

Another elegant addition, the green dress Kiera Knightley rocked in the 2007 movie ‘Atonement’ was voted ‘Best Costume of All Time’ by Sky Movies and readers of ‘In Style’, so it’s not a surprise that it’s an excellent choice for any costume event. Slightly deviating from the classic style of the 1930’s, this bold colour choice, not often seen in films, has made its mark and definitely sticks in our memories.

6. Sam Lowry – Brazil

Perhaps less commonly known than some of the other films present on this list, this is one movie costume that, once you’ve seen it, it’s hard to forget. The lead character sports some fetching silver armour and a pair of wings in a daydream, and it’s perfect for surprising a film fan or two no matter where you may be heading this Halloween. Perhaps not the easiest costume for us to undertake ourselves this year, but armed with some feathers and a roll of tinfoil, what could possibly go wrong?!

7. Marie Antoinette – Marie Antoinette

With an enhanced take on the Rococo style, ‘Marie Antoinette’ is not short on amazing costumes. This film is an explosion of pastels, ruffles, bows, ribbons and big hair! There’s a dedication to complex costumes and it certainly paid off, with the film winning an Oscar for ‘Best Achievement in Costume Design’ in 2007. Perhaps this won’t be so easy to replicate, but if you can get somewhere close, you’re bound to impress.

8. Literally ANYTHING out of The Lord of The Rings – The Lord of The Rings Trilogy

Whether you’re a Dwarf, an Elf or a hairy-footed Hobbit, this trilogy has something for everyone! With ‘The Fellowship of the Ring’ being nominated, and ‘The Return of the King’ winning an Oscar for its great costume design, it’s no surprise it’s a great go-to for any costume event. From Galadriel’s gowns to Elrond’s armour, from the Witch King to Aragorn, these movies demonstrate excellent detail and unique costumes, So, whether you pick one for yourself or make it a group theme, how could you possibly go wrong?

9. The Mad Hatter – Alice in Wonderland

Johnny Depp’s Mad Hatter costume is an explosion of colour, fabric and detail. This quirky interpretation definitely leaves an impression and shows an attention to detail, from his ever-changing cotton socks, to the price tag in his hat, to the Hatter’s pin cushion ring. A fun costume to undertake, a trip to a local charity shop might be the best way to tackle this mix of materials.

10. Anna Valerious – Van Helsing

Based originally on the book by Bram Stoker, these characters are definitely more in line with the traditional Halloween costumes that we know and love. This gothic fantasy is filled with great costumes but Kate Beckinsale’s character definitely stands out. With a more refined look than that of Dracula’s brides, Anna shows us that a leading female can look amazing and dress practically all at once! With a loose blouse, corset and stylish jacket, Anna is the perfect choice to inspire us this Halloween.

Inspired? Let us know in the comments!

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“BRAAAAZIIIIIIIIL,

Where hearts were entertaining June

We stood beneath an amber moon

And softly murmured “someday soon”

We kissed and clung together.

This is the theme of Terry Gilliam’s 1985 feature film which is named after the song – Brazil. I am extremely happy to be finally writing about this movie as it is one of my absolute favourites and I hope I can do it justice.

Okay, so why do I have my knickers in a twist over this film? Why do I think it is so great? Well, I’ll start off with a brief outline of the plot: The movie is set “somewhere in the 20^th century” (a.k.a the present), in a totalitarian bureaucratic state that has been waging a campaign against guerrillas for 13 years. An arrest warrant is made for one of the supposed Terrorists, Mr A. Tuttle (Robert De Niro), but through unfortunate circumstances and human error, it is a Mr Buttle that is in fact arrested and is unintentionally killed during “Information Retrieval” as a result.  It is Sam Lowry (Jonathan Pryce), a middling level clerk that is dragged into the whole ghastly matter so that he can rectify an accounting error; for you see, in this world, when you’re under arrest you are actually charged for the time, energy and resources spent on your… uhm… “information retrieval”… and as Mr Buttle was wrongly arrested he is due some compensation, but being dead can’t claim it.

Sam is seemingly content in his insignificant job – it is plain to see that he is good at it – and he enjoys not being noticed (which you can’t blame him for as it seems the world he lives in is frighteningly Orwellian). However, it is shown that Sam’s aspirations are far more than his little government job or the aspirations offered by his contemporaries and peers: Sam indulges in the most fantastical dreams in which he is a superhuman flying through beautiful lush landscapes and is in love with a beautiful mystery woman. It is during his investigations into the Tuttle/Buttle matter that he meets Jill Layton (Kim Greist), a neighbour of The Buttles who witnessed the arrest and is earnestly searching for answers and justice but is being smothered by red tape. To Sam’s absolute astonishment, she is the double of Sam’s dream-girl. Sam is besotted and thus climbs further up the political ladder so he can find out who the actual dream girl is; unbeknownst of the terrible consequences of the chaos he leaves in his wake, especially as the government suspects Jill of being an accomplice of Tuttle.

From the plot you would have guessed that this is some dystopian tale. Today, it’s the bread and butter of Hollywood drama with the likes of “The Hunger Games”, “Maze Runner” and “Insurgent/Divergent” being heavily aimed at a teenage audience; and it has been a popular film genre throughout the history of cinema with the likes of “Metropolis” (1927), “Bladerunner” (1982) and “Planet of the Apes” (1968). Most aforementioned movies are critically acclaimed and very popular, so while there is nothing wrong with the actual craft of these movies I still believe Brazil is a cut above the rest as far as dystopian nightmares go. And why do I think this? Because unlike the other hyper-futuristic flicks with bizarre and fantastical circumstances, Brazil is rooted in real evils that the audience can identify with. It’s like how, in Harry Potter, Voldemort is undeniably an evil and frightening character, but I’d bet you anything that you didn’t hate him nearly as much as you did Professor Umbridge – I wanted to rip her eyes out.  This is because it’s very unlikely that your life and world is gonna be threatened by a megalomaniac wizard, but ww have all experienced that sadistic teacher or boss who is a stickler for the rules, and in small ways makes your life absolute hell. Brazil is not a dystopian future, Brazil is a reflection of our lives now, and portrays evil that we know sits beside us in our own little lives, and that’s why it is so frightening. Not only this, but you’ll also find yourself laughing all the way, probably because Gilliam realised you would have otherwise just cried instead.

The small frustrations and errors that pile up throughout the film are presented via comedy, letting the audience relate to the character and circumstances, creating empathy. As I explained above, Brazil is full of recognisable evils and the fictional government has characteristics similar to real-life regimes: in the movie there are an unnecessary amount of government departments as there was in the Nazi regime, which in similar fashion to the movie suffered from horrendous miscommunication leading to an abundance of cock-ups. Also insufficient funding to essential government services such as emergency helplines (so that they only operate during the day) is a real aspect of many people’s lives due to the economic slump of the last decade. It’s all just too real. Great comedy moments that bewail the annoyances of modern life is how all the technology shown in the movie doesn’t even work and just makes life more complicated, like oh my goodness the bloody phone, just watch it and you’ll know what I mean – it’s horrible. This is actually an important theme of the movie for although the government is vigilant in bureaucratic duties, they still can’t run things properly…

Every aspect of life within the movie is clogged up by ridiculous amounts of paperwork, something we have all suffered from in modern-life: people that had previously harboured great passions for their careers are driven mad by the never-ending forms to be filled out and are either forced into guerrilla lifestyles to be free of such trivialities, or just end up having nervous fits at so much of the mention of a “27B-6”. The anger is oh-so tangible in Jill’s plight to report the wrongful arrest of Buttle as she is yo-yoed in different departments filling in form upon form into a dead-end. You find yourself watching with tight fists and white knuckles. What boils the blood further is the laissez faire working attitudes of those around Sam, especially that of his long-life friend Jack Lint (Michael Palin) who is high up in the surreptitious Ministry of Information Retrieval, who use questionable methods to extract information: such horrifying sights include the transcript notes made by his secretary during a retrieval: “AHHHHHH, GOD PLEEEEASE NO STOOOP!”, and when he finishes a job and greets Sam whilst wearing a blood-soaked apron. His callousness towards the “errors” he may have contributed to and his “just doing his job” attitude, even when it’s a friend that’s strapped to the chair, is simply chilling and I don’t even want to go deep into what parallels could be drawn from the film to real-life. In Gilliam’s universe, the cherry on the cake is that you’re charged for your own torture.

Johnathan Pryce gives an effective comedic performance as Sam Lowry, a simply ordinary man. He gains several belly-laughs in his many slapstick or total goof moments and he lets you indulge in a laugh or two at his pathetic frightened mouse routines. He also stirs up sympathy as he reacts in many situations as we would, and we are just as terrified as he is in some parts of the movie. His timidity throughout the film also makes his brave moments that much better, and makes Sam shine, even if it is just because he looks terribly silly. Palin is at his slimiest as Jack: all smiles as he plays the pawn in the wicked machinations of the Ministry of Information Retrieval, and completely spineless against his boss as well – ew. It is very rare that I don’t like a character portrayed by Michael Palin, very rare indeed. Robert De Niro really makes up for his small screen-time in the film as he gives the coolest performance of a Heating Engineer possible, oozing charisma. You can’t help but smile when he appears in a scene. He portrays freedom in this boxed up world and whilst being his own man, he’ll risk his neck for a friend. The rest of the cast are brilliant, effortlessly conjuring the stuffy and uptight atmosphere of the movie. However, I want to give special mention to Sheila Reid as Veronica Buttle, Mr Buttle’s grieved wife – I am forever going to be haunted by her cries of “WHAT DID YOU DO WITH HIS BODY?!”… Thanks Sheila.

I cannot talk about a Terry Gilliam movie without mentioning the production design, for Brazil would not have been possible without his vast, wild imagination and the team that supported him in achieving it. Sam’s world is indeed very Orwellian, with grey grim flat blocks that radiate misery and boredom, while his dream world is made up of images of a picturesque English countryside. Also, Sam’s appearance in the dream sequences despite looking like a new romantic 80s band member, is the product of human fantasy as he flies through the skies with beautiful white wings… lovely. However, the true art of the production design is in the gloomy waking world of Sam; as a whole it has an incredibly suffocating and oppressive feeling. My favourite details are in the restaurant sequence in a Ritz-type Hotel in which old fashioned screens are used to cover up the fire-fighting of the establishment after it’s been bombed (Gilliam was inspired by the IRA bombing that occurred when he lived in London); and the design of the technology – it is neither sleek hyper-futuristic or steam-punk but just shitty and plastic. A truly shocking detail of the production design is when the characters are “invited” to information retrieval. They are locked into a full body straight jacket that covers the entire head, with their neck clamped on to a pole, so that they can be simply hung up tidily during transportation, just like animal carcasses in an abattoir.

Gilliam has created a really funny film punctuated with a lot of darkness, and I would claim that it is an accurate reflection of the world today – it must truly be bad times for me to not be surprised if governments started charging prisoners for torture, but in all honesty it seems like a reality that’s just around the corner. It is both a dream and a nightmare, and is totally awesome. Brazil has a great cast, fantastic production design, is free of most modern CGI, and is simply pure craftsmanship. This is one of my favourite movies of all time and I would recommend it to everyone. However, make sure you watch the director’s cut version: Gilliam had many conflicts with Universal, who chopped up the movie to create the “Love Conquers All” cut which is simply a mutilation of a work of art; in contrast Gilliam’s ending is a punch to the gut, leaving the audience satisfied from an intense viewing experience. To not watch the full Director’s cut is truly a crying shame in this case.

To conclude, I think that amongst all of the teen films, we need more dystopian movies like this. Yes, the material in “The Hunger Games” and “Maze Runner” is shocking and emotive, and can make some great philosophical points, but Brazil is far more relatable and realistic. Sam is only a hero in his dreams and is not infallible to the horrors around him. Not only does the movie bring the faults of our world to our attention, it at least lets us laugh as we’re there, and satire always leaves a longer-lasting feeling than drama in my opinion.