An Accidental Studio: An essential amusement

An Accidental Studio (2019) • View trailer 

Four stars. Rated TV-PG, for no particular reason

By Derrick Bang

The British film industry was in dire straits in the early 1980s.

 

From the late 1950s through the 1970s, between 90 and 120 films had been made each year; the average Briton watched 11 per year. Only 23 films were made in 1982, and average attendance was down to 0.4.

 

Former Beatle George Harrison, center, makes a fleeting appearance in
Monty Python's Life of Brian, officially billed as "Mr. Papadopolous."

The primary culprit: corporate consolidation. The industry was controlled by just two major studios — Rank and EMI — both of which green-lit only “safe” projects. Today’s multiplicity of indie studios and production companies hadn’t yet arrived.

 

“Rank and EMI famously said no,” recalls film journalist Terry Ilott, “to almost everything that was interesting.”

 

Rescue arrived from a completely unexpected direction. Indeed, said resurrection had begun a few years earlier.

 

Bill Jones, Kim Leggatt and Ben Timlett explore the 11-year reign of George Harrison’s HandMade Films in An Accidental Studio — available via Amazon and other streaming services — a thoroughly engaging documentary that charts this brief Renaissance in British cinema. The former Beatle became a hero in his native land, lauded for having “saved” the British film industry.

 

The saga is depicted via contemporary talking heads and archival interviews with scores of the major filmmakers and stars involved: Michael Caine, Richard E. Grant, Bob Hoskins, Neil Jordan, Cathy Tyson, Brenda Vaccaro and the entire Monty Python troupe, among many others. There’s also considerable footage of Harrison, revealing him as the most quietly relaxed mogul the industry ever produced.

 

(If this documentary kindles your curiosity, you’ll also want to read Robert Sellers’ equally delightful 2013 book, Very Naughty Boys: The Amazing True Story of HandMade Films.)

 

HandMade’s origin was as cheeky as its first project. Harrison had gotten to know Michael Palin, Terry Gilliam and the other Pythons; he considered them good friends. Following the success of 1975’s Monty Python and the Holy Grail, the gang secured a deal with EMI to make their next project, Monty Python’s Life of Brian. With locations scouted and pre-production underway, EMI severed the arrangement just as filming was about to begin.

 

(As the Pythons collectively recall, EMI’s chairman, Bernard Delfont, “finally read the script.” And was appalled.)

The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus: Warped reflections

The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus (2009) • View trailer for The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus
3.5 stars (out of five). Rating: PG-13, for violent images, sensuality and profanity
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 1.15.10
Buy DVD: The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus • Buy Blu-Ray: The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus [Blu-ray]


Terry Gilliam's imagination is both wildly, feverishly creative and oddly grungy; one gets the impression that he views dreams and nightmares as cluttered landscapes cobbled together by people who can't be bothered to tidy up their homes, let alone put any order to their deeply buried fantasies and fears.

This somewhat messy view of humanity goes all the way back to Gilliam's days with Monty Python, when (for example) he had much to do with the filthy, muck-infested depiction of medieval England in 1975's Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Ironically, the film has since been praised for the historical verisimilitude of its setting: far more realistic than the freshly scrubbed and impeccably garbed knights and ladies of so many Hollywood costume dramas.

Although Parnassus (Christopher Plummer, left) is inclined to reflect sadly on
the mess he has made of his life, an oddly solicitous Mr. Nick (Tom Waits)
rather charitably points out that things aren't that bad ... and besides, there's
always another wager to make.

Gilliam continued to focus on mankind's scruffier elements in his best big-screen fantasies, from the bedraggled heroes of Time Bandits and The Adventures of Baron Munchausen, to the street people of his inner-city masterpiece, The Fisher King.

The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus is no different. We can readily believe that the ageless Parnassus, long ago granted immortality, truly has traveled the world for centuries with the same dilapidated, horse-drawn carriage-cum-circus: a deceptively rickety affair that possesses a much larger interior than its weather-worn exterior would suggest.

Once upon a time, perhaps back in the 18th century, Parnassus and his traveling troupe would have dazzled average passers-by with a blend of juggling, acrobatics, sly subterfuge and a truly magic mirror that serves as a gateway to the more embarrassing — or nastier — parts of the human soul. But the good doctor hasn't updated his schtick since then, and the smirking, condescending denizens of our 21st century lack the childlike sense of wonder that would have left their ancestors rapt whenever Parnassus' wagon rolled into town. More's the pity, because the traveling show's true nature remains just as pressing in this modern age.

Countless generations ago, Parnassus (Christopher Plummer) bargained with the Devil, dubbed Mr. Nick (Tom Waits), for the gift of immortality. The Devil cheerfully granted this wish, because Parnassus hadn't anticipated the agony of eternal life, and of watching, over and over, as people he knew and loved grew old and left him.

We also eventually realize, thanks to the delightful subtlety of Waits' performance, that Mr. Nick sensed a kindred spirit in Parnassus all those years back: a worthy opponent for an endless celestial competition over the very nature of man.