Terry Gilliam is in dark, subversive mood with this Orwellian fantasy. While the film has extraordinary futuristic sets, appropriately off-the-wall performances, and more ingenious ideas than you usually find in a dozen other movies put together, it still has its share of flaws. For one thing, there seems to be too much going on for the eye and ear to fully absorb. Not that I mind watching movies which demand the concentration of the viewer - in fact, I rather like films that are challenging and thought-provoking - but Brazil is extraordinarily hard to follow, even for those who give it the level of attention it demands. Perhaps it's one of those films best treated as an experience more than a narrative. Also, its extreme length is a drawback; as the film passes the two hour mark one begins to fidget a little with discomfort.
In a futuristic state, bureaucracy has literally gone mad and people have lost their identity working in bleak, absurdly formalised offices where they spend practically the whole day carrying out monotonous paper-work. Sam Lowry (Jonathan Pryce) works in the Records Office, under the preposterously fussy eye of Mr Kurtzmann (Ian Holm). Lowry survives day after day of uninterrupted boredom by day-dreaming of himself as a winged super-hero protecting the world from various villains and monsters, and wooing a gorgeous blonde woman (Kim Greist). Due to a printing error, an arrest warrant is issued for a law-abiding citizen named Mr Buttle (the real warrant is intended for a heating-engineer-turned-terrorist named Tuttle, played with surprising comic flair by Robert De Niro). Buttle is duly arrested and tortured to death, but his neighbour Jill Leyton (Griest, again) is determined to clear the name of the wronged Mr Buttle, which she does by relentlessly pestering the various agencies involved in the mix-up. When Sam realises that the blonde beauty of his dreams actually exists, and that the authorities are out to silence her, he breaks away from his deskbound existence and tries to assume the heroic role he has so often dreamed of in a doomed effort to protect her.
Brazil is a dazzling film on many levels, especially in its depiction of a frightening society where the hours spent sleeping and dreaming are infinitely more desirable than the depressing waking hours. Gilliam seems to be suggesting that his invented world is the culmination of every social "mistake" in history, from the McCarthy era witch-hunts to Stalinism. It is certainly one of the bleakest and most damning visions of the future ever put on film. Pryce carries the film excellently as the ever-questioning, ever-imaginative hero in a society where everyone else has forgotten how to question and imagine. Griest is terrific as the girl of his dreams (whose "real" self turns out to be tougher and more resourceful than he could dare believe); and De Niro's small role as the dashing saboteur is very amusingly played. Brazil is not for all tastes, and resolutely demands several re-viewings in order to take it all in, but it still stands as encouraging evidence that creativity and originality lurk in the shadows of post-'70s cinema. I give it a 7 from my personal viewpoint, but a 9.5 for its cult potential.
In a futuristic state, bureaucracy has literally gone mad and people have lost their identity working in bleak, absurdly formalised offices where they spend practically the whole day carrying out monotonous paper-work. Sam Lowry (Jonathan Pryce) works in the Records Office, under the preposterously fussy eye of Mr Kurtzmann (Ian Holm). Lowry survives day after day of uninterrupted boredom by day-dreaming of himself as a winged super-hero protecting the world from various villains and monsters, and wooing a gorgeous blonde woman (Kim Greist). Due to a printing error, an arrest warrant is issued for a law-abiding citizen named Mr Buttle (the real warrant is intended for a heating-engineer-turned-terrorist named Tuttle, played with surprising comic flair by Robert De Niro). Buttle is duly arrested and tortured to death, but his neighbour Jill Leyton (Griest, again) is determined to clear the name of the wronged Mr Buttle, which she does by relentlessly pestering the various agencies involved in the mix-up. When Sam realises that the blonde beauty of his dreams actually exists, and that the authorities are out to silence her, he breaks away from his deskbound existence and tries to assume the heroic role he has so often dreamed of in a doomed effort to protect her.
Brazil is a dazzling film on many levels, especially in its depiction of a frightening society where the hours spent sleeping and dreaming are infinitely more desirable than the depressing waking hours. Gilliam seems to be suggesting that his invented world is the culmination of every social "mistake" in history, from the McCarthy era witch-hunts to Stalinism. It is certainly one of the bleakest and most damning visions of the future ever put on film. Pryce carries the film excellently as the ever-questioning, ever-imaginative hero in a society where everyone else has forgotten how to question and imagine. Griest is terrific as the girl of his dreams (whose "real" self turns out to be tougher and more resourceful than he could dare believe); and De Niro's small role as the dashing saboteur is very amusingly played. Brazil is not for all tastes, and resolutely demands several re-viewings in order to take it all in, but it still stands as encouraging evidence that creativity and originality lurk in the shadows of post-'70s cinema. I give it a 7 from my personal viewpoint, but a 9.5 for its cult potential.