After The Fisher King and 12 Monkeys offered a one-two punch of semi-coherent narratives, Gilliam dove headlong into adapting Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, and sometimes it seems like he's yet to emerge from that druggy haze. Even a more straightforward project like The Brothers Grimm feels busy and frantic, while a personal project like Tideland is all grotesque (if sometimes fascinating), child-brained whimsy. Johnny Depp emerged from Fear and Loathing with a detectable change, too, but has used the devilish risk-taking of playing Hunter S. Thompson to enhance and heighten his electric performing style. Gilliam, though, seems concerned primarily with out-Gilliaming himself.
For a while, this appears to be the purpose of The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus; the surprise is not in how utterly Gilliamesque the whole thing is, but how much fun Gilliam makes of himself. The film's Parnassus (Christopher Plummer), the source of his apparent doctorate unremarked upon, is an old man, perhaps even older than he looks, perhaps as much as a thousand years old, who travels around in a low-rent carnival attraction, occasionally making wagers with a devil-like figure (Tom Waits), and trying to look after his kewpie-faced daughter Valentina (Lily Cole). In short, he walks a thin line between wily magician and deranged vagrant, which is to say that Gilliam almost certainly sympathizes with him.
I'm not entirely certain as to the goals of the Parnassus traveling theatre; I guess it's to entice customers through his magic mirror, where they enter fantasy worlds controlled by Parnassus's own consciousness. Because of Parnassus's most recent bet with the devil, though, these journeys become struggles for the participants' souls. Parnassus is assisted by Valentina, as well as young Anton (Andrew Garfield), and mysterious stranger Tony (Heath Ledger), whose charisma and showmanship attract new business to the floundering operation.
Ledger, no stranger to charisma or, after The Dark Knight, showmanship, died during production of this film, leaving behind a charming but half-finished performance. Rather than shutting the movie down, Gilliam corraled Depp, Jude Law, and Colin Farrell to fill in, playing Tony as he appears on the other side of the magic mirror. The effect is a little nonsensical (the film is loose with its rules about who changes shape in the mirror worlds), but basically seamless -- Depp, Law, and Farrell bring out new dimensions in Tony's personality (well, mainly degrees of conniving) and pay tribute to the much-missed Ledger.
The playful trickery fits the mood of the film, which is easy to enjoy for all of its Gilliamesque touches, the tilty fish-eyed close-ups and blithe side jokes -- Verne Troyer, Mini-Me from the Austin Powers films, gets a lot of the best lines as Parnassus's semi-loyal sidekick -- but tougher when it comes to forming a lasting emotional attachment, or analysis of what Gilliam wants to accomplish with his worlds of snake rivers, cardboard forests, and giant floating statues shaped like Christopher Plummer's head.
This is his first passion project made with a modern digital playground, and the abundant effects alternate between oddball wonder and CGI chintz, a new version of the Gilliam aesthetic: elaborate yet ramshackle. In this way, it feels less like the director's unique point of view and more like his update of the Terry Gilliam experience: delightful, inventive, untethered. Still, you've got to hand it to a movie that knows itself well enough to succinctly offer advice for watching it: 'Don't worry if you don't understand it all immediately,' a character says at one point. Imaginarium wears its heart on its sleeve, I think, but good luck finding the sleeve.
Aka The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus.
