THE BROTHERS GRIMM

Since his 1981 hit Time Bandits, Terry Gilliam has established himself as one of the most iconoclastic and visually inventive directors inside or out of Hollywood. From Brazil to 12 Monkeys to Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas, his films explode with ambitious intelligence and a giddy sense of artistic mayhem. Even cinematic misfires like The Adventures Of Baron Munchausen boast moments of undeniable grace and wit. The director, no matter how much he might miss, aims for targets no one else making movies even attempts.

Unfortunately, Gilliam is also a filmmaker of uncommonly bad luck. His productions are notorious for budget-breaking catastrophes and pie-in-the-sky ambitions (painfully captured in 2002’s documentary Lost In La Mancha). It is no surprise then that his relationship with the studio system is less than cozy.

In what must have been a fig leaf offering to Hollywood, the former Monty Python animator’s first film in seven years is the most obvious and nakedly commercial film of his career. Influenced more by Scooby Doo than the true Brothers Grimm, Ehren Kruger’s (The Ring, Scream 3) frantic and overly schematic script misses numerous opportunities for greatness and delivers a story that seems calculated to be a Hollywood hit.

{But even when he’s playing nice, Gilliam can’t seem to cut a break. Struggles over Harvey Weinstein’s tampering with everything from casting decisions (the outstanding Samantha Morton was jettisoned in favor of Lena Heady) to make up choices plagued the production’s history.}

The Brothers Grimm re-imagines the 18th-century storytelling scholars as con men who travel around the countryside posing as supernatural exterminators. Along with a pair of bumbling henchmen, Jake (Heath Ledger) and Will (Matt Damon) Grimm bilk superstitious townsfolk by ‘vanquishing’ marauding trolls and witches.

Jake is the nebbishy dreamer who believes in fantastic folktales while brother Will is a dogged pragmatist and flamboyant ham. With their divergent beliefs, the brothers bicker and feud in a classic display of sibling love/hate.

When a Napoleonic General (Gilliam stalwart Jonathan Pryce) captures the hucksters, he forces them to investigate the strange reports from a remote village; young maidens have gone missing in the nearby woods. Convinced they are up against rival hoaxers, the brothers recruit a local huntress (Heady) and go in search of the missing girls. Once inside the menacing forest they encounter lurking wolves, an evil sorceress locked in an immense tower and mystical foes from their darkest imagination.

Alternately bombastic and whimsical, The Brothers Grimm doesn’t have much in the way of subtlety. {For its first half-hour, it struggles to find its footing, botching comic moments and squandering opportunities to develop its protagonists.} Even more frustrating is the narrative’s complete lack of subtext. Shockingly, Kruger has nothing to say about fairy tales, true love or, even, the brothers’ relationship. He doesn’t so much explore the Grimm fables as name-drop them. {Kruger’s slavish devotion to commercial screenplay mechanics leaves Gilliam, who thrives on subtext, very little to work with.}

Luckily, the filmmaker recognizes these shortcomings and uses the film as a canvass for his unbridled aesthetics. With flourishes inspired by the lavish, black-and-white illustrations of fairytale books, Gilliam fills the ham-fisted story with breathtaking images. The sets and cinematography are layered with texture and atmosphere. The costumes and props dazzle with otherworldly deformity. The film has a dark and surreal energy that evokes the nightmares of childhood.

Brothers Grimm is also Gilliam’s first foray into CG effects and while occasionally shoddy, they bear his strikingly original influence. Walking trees, an evil mud man, a horse that swallows children, and best of all, a witch (Monica Belluci) that reverses age from 500 to 25 are all rendered with memorable panache.

The cast, for the most part, does an admirable job. Damon wrestles with his under developed character (and accent) but eventually finds the right comic tone for Will’s hammy bravado. Ledger’s amiably bookish portrayal of brother Jacob is both charming and effectively heroic. Heady who plays the romantic lead is, unfortunately, a beautiful bore, generating few sparks with her male costars. Jonathan Pryce is reliably preening and arrogant as the bureaucratic General Delatombe and Peter Stomare chews the scenery with freakish abandon as Cavaldi, an inept and ambivalent henchman.

With its grotesque caricatures, sumptuous visuals and unrepentantly lowbrow gags the film often threatens to careen into utter cartoonishness. Still, Gilliam’s enormous talents are on full display, proving once again that he is one of the most interesting and unappreciated filmmakers alive today.