Paul Risker continues his Terry Gilliam retrospective…
Described by David Cronenberg as a “poetic horror film”, Terry Gilliam prefers to think of Tideland as Alice in Wonderland meets Psycho. The choice of words of both directors indicates that Tideland will sit as one of Gilliam’s more divisive films, offering the viewer an authentic Gilliamesque trip into imagination and madness. Or to pay heed to Jonathan Rosenbaum’s ominous warning, “Enter this diseased Lewis Carroll universe at your own risk.”
In order to discuss Tideland there is the need to refer back to The Brothers Grimm. Once again Gilliam had found himself in conflict with the film hierarchy, this time Miramax’s Weinstein brothers, Harvey and Bob.
Following prolonged creative differences, Gilliam prepped Tideland in less than two months, during a break from Brothers Grimm, in part hoping the commencement of his tenth film would bring to an end the creative differences between himself and the Weinstein’s over the final cut. Following Gilliam’s attempts to work within the system, Tideland represents a return to low budget filmmaking.
Tideland is the antithesis of Brothers Grimm, returning the fairy-tale to its dark roots, though as aforementioned in previous parts of this retrospective, the dark shadows of fairy tales have long been a part of the Gilliamesque. Only in Mitch Cullin’s novel of the same name, Gilliam found an opportunity to commit to the screen his own dark fairy tale, imbuing it with horror, the young girl ignorant to her father’s decomposing corpse, whilst she sinks into the depths of her imagination aided by dismembered Barbie doll heads she places on her fingers.
Whether Tideland is Alice meets Psycho I do not know, but it is certainly Gilliam’s reimagining of Alice’s fantastical and horror laden adventures down the rabbit hole, or a spiralling trip deep into her psyche, of which each doll’s head is representative of a different aspect. In fact Tideland may be a combination of fairy tale and psychological horror.
Interestingly it was only his second film to deal with a child’s perspective – the only other film his time travel adventure Time Bandits. Considering Gilliam’s interest in imagination and madness, one could almost expect his cinema to be heavily tailored to the perspective of adolescence, but his tenth film would be only his second to adopt such a perspective. If Bergman was and remains the cinematic master of dream sequences, then Gilliam is one of the masters of madness and imagination, though where reality and fiction meet one is never too sure.
Fisher King and Twelve Monkeys afforded Gilliam success at the box office, both films a demonstration of his willingness to break his own rules. Delivering these films on time and on budget met with financial success, one would think it would change the view of Gilliam as a reckless director. Not so.
In his documentary included on the Tideland two disc DVD release, Vincenzo Natali asks the question of whether Gilliam is unbondable, and the answer does not dismiss this as an absurd question. One of the film’s producers tells Natali that all the pieces had been put into place to make the film viable, though she offered her support for Terry, convinced that he would prove the doubters wrong.
Seventeen years after the Munchausen disaster, the spectre of that nightmare continues to haunt him, almost certainly unfairly with the financial successes of Fisher King and Twelve Monkeys, yet the troubles encountered with the company producing Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, and Gilliam’s disagreements with the Writers Guild of America (WGA) over Fear and Loathing played up the image of Gilliam the troublemaker. But then did Hollywood ever have any serious intention of forgiving or forgetting Gilliam’s rebellious attitude towards American filmmaking? Most likely not, and it was inevitable Gilliam would return to low budget filmmaking or the fringes of the system, from where he would continue to give us tales of madness and imagination. Tideland represents a sort of return for Gilliam to his roots.
Film number ten is Gilliam’s response to the beliefs about children as victims, countering such sentiments with a tale of adolescent strength. The dark readings into the film, such as aspects of paedophilia Gilliam believes derives from the influence of media outlets and the circulation of information. Perhaps this explains the polarising dislike some felt towards the film, notably Rosenbaums description of the film as “Extremely unpleasant.”
Even fellow Python Michael Palin had no idea whether it was a masterpiece or whether it was Gilliam’s worst film.
Tideland sits as a divisive film, and whilst film is a business, aimed at grossing profits on investments, Gilliam’s films should shock and divide opinion. Inevitably this is counterproductive to appealing to a broad audience to secure the grosses at the box office and uphold the business model.
Gilliam has little interest in being derivative, instead keen to push the boundaries to conceive something original, and is lack of interest in the business side means that art comes before profit, the exploration and conflict with ideas to conceive something original comes before business, and the day Gilliam appeals to a broad audience is the day we should start to worry.
Gilliam is a divisive and individual filmmaker who in hindsight like Welles before him will demonise further the movie hierarchy.
Paul Risker is co-editor in chief of Wages of Film, freelance writer and contributor to Flickering Myth and Scream The Horror Magazine.
