In Theaters: The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus

Unlikely, perhaps, because Heath Ledger's death underwrites so much of the pathos of what is really a film about Gilliam himself. Parnassus, a sort of philosopher-mystic who won a life-extending bet with the devil (played with ravenous, grinning appetite by Tom Waits) several centuries ago, now regards immortality as a curse: he has outlived his use as a storyteller, as people no longer care. That this is their failing and not that of the storyteller is supposedly understood, and Plummer, extraordinary as the weary but headstrong old gypsy, certainly wears the burden of unjust irrelevance well. But it's an analogous conviction that is not convincingly developed -- it is merely one idea among too many bobbing in a narrative riptide.

In one of Gilliam's most unfortunate and presumably stubborn choices, Ledger enters the film swinging -- from a noose. Discovered by the hapless caravan as they cross a bridge, Valentina insists on saving him (he is immediately revived) and taking him in. As Tony, Ledger plays a conniver who may or may not have amnesia, and who joins the group to maintain a low profile. Very quickly, however, his inner huckster kicks in, and Tony is leading the Imaginarium to a successful run at a local mall: middle aged women clamor for their turn inside Parnassus's magical portal, where their dreams of handsome suitors and unlimited shoes come true. The devil, ready to collect on a wager that involves tendering Valentina to his clutches, renegotiates with Parnassus, and the two set about seeing who will win the souls of five people first -- that is, Parnassus must keep his customers from crossing over to the dark side while under his influence. Like I said, the rules of this universe are never quite clear. As a result, the script's occasional lunges at resonance (this is Gilliam's third collaboration with Charles McKeown) are either baffling or heavy with dissonance.

Pages: 1 2 3