When you look back Terry Gilliam’s embattled, Sisyphean career, documented in films like “Lost In La Mancha” or chronicled in stories of the filmmaker taking out an ad in Variety against Universal for holding “Brazil” ransom” and eventually winning that battle, one generally doesn’t think of the mythic comedy “The Fisher King.” Critically acclaimed, universally loved, and nominated for five Academy Awards including a Best Actor nomination for the late Robin Williams (it won Best Supporting Actor for Mercedes Ruehl), “The Fisher King” is generally not the film one thinks about when they think “beleaguered Terry Gilliam movie”.
But it’s interesting to hear its narrative in the context of those that were there at the time looking back on getting the film made. Out on DVD/Blu-Ray this week thanks to the Criterion Collection, the DVD extras paint a lesser-known picture: Terry Gilliam close to being locked in director’s jail after what “Fisher King” screenwriter Richard LaGravenese described as the “traumatic, devastating experience” of making “The Adventures of Baron Munchausen” which went badly over budget.
In fact, “The Fisher King” was Gilliam’s first Hollywood experience and the first film he did not self-generate, a rule he broke for himself. According to the DVD extra interviews, producer Lynda Obst had to fight Tri-Star tooth and nail to hire Gilliam because the same exec had worked with him on ‘Munchausen’ and said “over my dead body” would he land the gig. Eventually, Obst, producer Debra Hill and screenwriter LaGravenese got their man, got their way, and were part of what’s become a classic and magical touchstone in Gilliam’s career.
Set in a fairy tale New York that’s ultra grim and highly stylized, “The Fisher King” centers on a disgraced radio deejay (Jeff Bridges) who finds personal salvation after he is saved from death by a strange vagabond (Robin Williams) who takes him into a dark, extraordinary quest for the Holy Grail. The fantastical movie also features two romantic subplots with Mercedes Ruehl and Amanda Plummer and could arguably be called Gilliam’s most creative and yet crowd-pleasing film despite its lack of his trademark visual effects. “Fisher King” is his most humanist, most soulful film, mostly a four-hander about damaged people with a compassionate worldview. On the eve of the Criterion release, we spoke to Gilliam about the making of “The Fisher King,” working with the late Robin Williams, his butting-heads relationship with Hollywood and much, much more.
“I swore I’d never work in Hollywood and so I did it: I broke all the rules I’d set myself and off we went.”
Gilliam: Where are you calling from?
New York, which is a good segue since its such a quintessential New York movie, though not the in a Woody Allen sense. More in the way you celebrate its dilapidated corners and are eager to explore its steamy and sweaty underbelly.
Is it all sunshiny and happy and sweet and pastel colors now?
Not quite, but it is Starbucks-ified and commodified obviously. Your vision of New York has a lot of character.
The one thing we thought we’d done to make New York modern is the dance in Grand Central Station. They actually do that now: on New Year’s Eve, they have an orchestra playing and people dance like right out of that scene. It started a year after “Fisher King” came out so we must have had some big influence.
Absolutely. That scene is now iconic. “Fisher King” is such a Terry Gilliam Film, but it’s interesting to be reminded that you were hired for the gig and it wasn’t one of your own creations.
Yeah. I was in a depressed mood because I’d made ‘Munchausen’ and the studio basically dumped it. So I thought my film career was finally over and I’m finished. My agent started sending me scripts and they were trying to get me to do the “The Addams Family” [but] they kept delaying sending the script until it was perfect. And it didn’t make a difference, I wasn’t interested. And he sent this other script, an interesting bit of writing. I started reading and I stayed up till—I don’t know what time in the morning it was— I thought this is really great writing. That was Richard LaGravenese’s first ever script. He had written it on spec. I said, “I really like this, I like these characters, I understand what it’s all about.” That was the beginning of it.
But I had to say, “Okay, I’m going to put my head in the lion’s mouth.” Because I swore I’d never work in Hollywood and so I did it: I broke all the rules I’d set myself and off we went.
Considering some of the stories, I’d then imagine this one was of your better Hollywood experiences.
It was great because it was so easy. Sure, there were special effects and stuff for the Red Knight and the horse, but it was basically, four wonderful actors, [and] including Michael Jeter, five. In that sense it was really easy.
And the script! Let me tell you, the script that I read had so many stupid things in it in their attempt to get the film greenlit! They turned it more into a caper, a robbery; stealing the grail on roller skates. There’s all this nonsense in there: “what is this crap?” It just didn’t make any sense. So I got a hold of Richard, I said, “What’s this all about?” He explained to me that these [parts] were some studio notes that they had insisted on. I said, “Let me see your very first script,” which he sent me. And it was great. “We’ll make this one instead!”
