12 MONKEYS
A film review by Michael John Legeros
Copyright 1996 Michael John Legeros
(Uni) Directed by Terry Gilliam Written by David Webb Peoples and Janet Peoples, inspired by the film LA JETEE by Chris Marker Cast Bruce Willis, Madeleine Stowe, Brad Pitt, Christopher Plummer, Frank Gorshin, David Morse MPAA Rating "R" (presumably for language and violence) Running Time 130 minutes Reviewed at General Cinemas at Pleasant Valley, Raleigh, NC (3JAN96)
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"Try to blend in."
- Willis to Stowe
This wild, weird time-travel tale is equal parts fantasy and figment. Once again, director Terry Gilliam (BRAZIL, THE FISHER KING) is charting the waters of madness. Both in his vision of a decimated future-- where 99% of the human race has perished in a plague, forcing the survivors to live underground-- and in his portrayal of a man sent from that future to save what's left of the human race. The man in question is Cole (Bruce Willis), a convict from 2035 who is sent to present-day and, upon arrival, is promptly placed in a mental institution. Sound familiar?
Writers David and Janet Peoples-- working from Chris Marker's 1962 short LA JETEE-- have written a strapping sci-fi saga that wouldn't be out of a place as a TERMINATOR sequel. Terry Gilliam, of course, isn't interested in simple, slick story mechanics. He has something else in mind. Literally. Gilliam takes us *inside* of Cole's head, to watch as he becomes increasingly disoriented by his continued trips between "realities." What is real? The question is a recurring theme in 12 MONKEYS, and one that is ultimately left to the discretion of the viewer. Even after the dust of a dynamite finale has cleared, all the answers do *not* stand revealed.
The challenges of this movie are numerous. In addition to the paradoxes of the plot, there's the shock and disorientation from stepping into Gilliam's "distorted reality." Skewered camera angles and exaggerated close-ups are the norm, here. With the exception of Bruce Willis, the actors all play human cartoons. Madelene Stowe transforms from a short-skirted psychiatrist to Cole's raving accomplice. Brad Pitt is a marvel of twitches and tics as a cross-eyed mental patient. Even old pro Christopher Plummer, as a virologist, gets to play with a preposterous Old South southern accent.
The barrage continues with an array of film clips, pop songs, Hitchcock allusions, and other symbolism. Blink and you'll miss something spectacular-- such as the shot of a department-store angel rising behind Stowe. Gorgeous. With a superb production design and stunning art direction-- based, apparently, on the color of mucus-- it all adds up to a welcome assault on the senses. In an era when motion picture have become too safe for their own good, it's nice (and downright exciting) to see a movie that goes in so many directions at once, and still lands on its feet. Thank God for Terry Gilliam.
Grade: A
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Mike Legeros - Raleigh, NC
legeros@nando.net (h) - legeros@unx.sas.com (w)
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