Grimmly Fiendish
Gilliam and Kruger deliver freaky fairy tale action.
BY GREGORY WEINKAUF
You know, this world is presently, perhaps, more devoid of magic than ever in history. It is truly gruesome. Most days,
I loathe it. Thus, if anyone were to trot over in a halfway-friendly fashion and tell me even a lousy fairy tale, I’d still bless
their children’s children’s children (who seem, alas, very likely to inherit a world far stupider, uglier and more
wretchedly overcrowded than this one). Thus, it is with significantly greater pleasure that I announce that The Brothers
Grimm ISN’T LOUSY! (How’s that for a promotional blurb, eh? Like: “The New SUV Whatever: Your family probably
won’t die instantly in it!”) Anyway, The Brothers Grimm is smart, inventive and thrilling and -- above all -- atmospheric.
There is magic in it. Whew. Thank you.
Of course, more’s the worry for these fictional Grimm brothers, re-wrought by screenwriter Ehren Kruger not as
biographically-accurate Jacob and Wilhelm but as nebbishy Jake (Heath Ledger) and cavalier Will (Matt Damon). Here,
kind of like Michael J. Fox in Peter Jackson’s grossly underrated coulda-been crowd-pleaser The Frighteners a decade
ago, the brothers are worldly hucksters who scare the provincial straights, then charge them dearly for expelling the
alleged bugaboos. Also, as in that fun film, the frights suddenly become real -- and very, very dangerous -- and our sort
of Napoleonic Ghostbusters find themselves stuck with the daunting task of facing overwhelming supernatural evil.
Hey, excellent. Kruger (Arlington Road, The Ring remakes) has never particularly bugged me or impressed me before,
but this is a splendid milieu, and he has fashioned it into a rich, surprising and quite comprehensible screenplay --
contrary to whatever the savvier-than-thou critics are attempting to proclaim about the movie being “confusing.” Perhaps
clear-cut narratives are harder to understand if one is desperately attempting to seem aloofly cosmopolitan whilst one’s
rarefied thumb is lodged in one’s rarefied butt. If anything, the story here may be too clear for its own good, but
complaining about that leans precariously toward total absurdity.
The wizard behind the curtain, of course, is illustrator-turned-animator-turned-director Terry Gilliam, he of the Pythonic
heritage, who is presently suffering the bitchy slings and arrows of the smarty-pants critical community who never get
any (or, at least, never get any that they actually want). Well, ha-ha on them. As you often suspect, they’re wrong.
Admittedly, I’m a huge fan of Gilliam’s work, but not for the chillingly “cool” reasons (Brazil, 12 Monkeys) so much as
for the gloriously humanistic reasons (Time Bandits, The Fisher King, both masterpieces in my estimation). Any
significant complaints I have about The Brothers Grimm are not aimed at Gilliam, but rather at some of the casting
choices (we’ll get to that) and at one very strange and unfortunate factor: I am too accustomed to Gilliam’s style;
anticipating his choices and rhythms (and ardent affection for bombast and bursts of dissonance) is presently too easy
for me, and thus The Brothers Grimm is a movie I happily appreciate more than I “get into” it. (This one sat on the shelf
awhile as he made another, Tideland, so more surprises may wait in the wings.) Perhaps this over-familiarity can
become the bridge of understanding between me and my uppity and willfully detached critical brethren and sistren. Not
that I’m worried about it: This movie looks suitably fantastic, moves at an exciting pace, and -- as with the best of
Gilliam’s work -- sticks with you and continues to provoke. It’s a large, unwieldy cauldron of fantasticality. Yay that!
The plot involves us observing Will and Jake as destitute little lads (Petr Ratimec and Jeremy Robson), so poor that their
mother is burning their rocking horse to keep them warm (Gilliam did grow up in Minnesota), and then, thus established,
the ideologically-opposed two grow up and wander from village to village, rigging up “supernatural” horrors with the help
of their zany, thickheaded associates Hidlick (Mackenzie Crook) and Bunst (Richard Ridings) -- only to “save” one village
after another, for rich rewards and, for Will, the pleasure of a local damsel or ten. However, trouble is afoot: In one small
village, local girls have been disappearing into the big, dark forest, and Will and Jake are summoned to find out why, and
to combat the culprit.
A word about the trailer: If you haven’t viewed it already, don’t. The damned thing gives away the whole movie. It is,
essentially, the Cliffs Notes version of the movie. Bleh. Hollywood, quit it.
Is the movie scary? That very much depends on your definition of scary. Recently I was in the middle of a very large
city, on a dubious street, and a little wannabe-"gangta" punk sidled up to me with one hand shoved into the pocket of his
sweatshirt, clenched around a less than friendly-looking implement. I had with me a bag which may or may not have
contained valuables. The youngster eyed me very carefully, then signaled to a cohort who was hiding behind a concrete
wall -- a cohort whose purpose, clearly, was to move hastily to the other side of the proposed victim, to block any
reasonable attempt at a quick exit. When I noticed that the cohort was also clutching something purposely concealed, I
very swiftly decided to hasten toward a better-lighted area where a few other people were milling about. The punks
carefully watched me to see if I would return, and when I didn’t, they departed, and one of them literally said, “We made
it too obvious.” I have been held up at gunpoint by little punks before. It is truly scary, because they are deranged and
dangerous. By comparison, supernatural monsters feel quite welcoming, even inspiring, to me.
Anyway, beyond the plot there is the theme, and perhaps this has some bearing on the hoitier and toitier critics getting
their panties in a bunch. Not often is it in popular film that we see cute little Germans being overrun by horrifically
oppressive Frenchmen. I’m no big fan of Germany myself (if ever a nation needed a chill-pill…), but I did find it
refreshing to see French people running around kicking ass in a monstrous way whilst German villagers hunker down,
desperate to protect their quaint, unobtrusive, provincial ways. Talk about a subversive movie! You see, while Will and
Jake dress up in typically wacky Gilliamesque garb and battle killer trees, a bizarre werewolf and the ultimate villainess,
the backdrop of history presents the Napoleonic invasion of Germany. But even beyond that, we’ve got the Age of
Enlightenment threatening to stamp out the far dreamier (if also much more superstitious) ways of Olde Europe. Here we
have, in essence, the Delirious Dreamers battling the Bullying Bureaucrats -- a theme which runs through just about all of
Gilliam’s work, and which is quite ingeniously delivered here.
The annoying critics seem to take the movie to task on just about anything they can think of, but they keep tap-dancing
around that theme. One precocious young fellow even accuses this gorgeous movie of being visually ugly and chaotic.
Um…sure, go ahead and trust him: He was a huge fan of the beautiful and elegant Terminator 3.
I never say stupid things like “Honestly, folks,” but…Honestly, folks -- the knee-jerk negativism toward this movie is
almost entirely unfounded.
As aforementioned, however, I can find some fault with the casting. It’s a shame that the cast of Sleepy Hollow (an
enjoyable but ultimately inferior movie) couldn’t have been transplanted wholesale here -- then we’d get Johnny Depp
and Helena Bonham Carter and two terrific Christophers (Lee and Walken)…and heck, Christina Ricci could have gone a
little more butch and played Jake or something. Instead, here it feels like Gilliam is working with half a cast, with some
pallid substitutes to stop up the gaps. Ledger is excellent as usual, but he’s in the wrong role: He should be the strutting,
defiant Will, not the superstitious bookworm Jake. Damon seems like a somewhat pleasant person, but I think he has a
disturbingly misshapen face and I really, really do not enjoy watching his big, freaky-baby mug bouncing around twenty
feet high. (As with his Associate Who Shall Not Be Named, I am deeply confused and sickened that he is a rich and
famous “leading man.”) Much as with Elijah Wood in Lord of the Rings, I feel that the whole production is done a
disservice via improper -- and annoying -- casting. I’ll give Damon points for being funny a couple of times (One
standout line is: “I made that armor -- it’s not magic! It’s just…shiny!”), but I don’t like his fake English accent (in 19th-
century Germany?), I don’t like his utter lack of any form of subtlety, and his goofy mongoloid head creeps me out.
Meanwhile, as the local heroine, hipster Lena Headey
(who established herself doing underage nudity with
Jeremy Irons in Waterland and is currently appearing
in the guaranteed horror moneymaker The Cave) is
energetic and appealing here, but she nonetheless
feels like a substitute for Samantha Morton -- who is
herself already becoming a tediously obvious choice.
That’s the thing, really -- the obviousness, the
meddling. Originally, Nicole Kidman was slated to
play the villainess of The Brothers Grimm…but why?
I think she has done some magnificent work in some
films (and plenty of mediocre stuff, too), but she’s
simply not scary. I get the feeling that she’s hella irritating in real life, but the woman simply is not scary. Despite the
notable absence of a Johnny Depp or a Christopher Lee, here we have this movie’s only successful case of substitution:
Monica Bellucci. The woman is clearly quite familiar with terrible monsters. Have you seen the ghastly tantrum called
Irréversible? A normal person says ‘no’ to a role like that. She brings to her work here an alluring sexuality, sure, but
also a dreadful creepiness which fully serves the project. Well met. (Plus it also doesn’t hurt that Christine Beveridge,
Vivien Riley and Roisin O’Reilly do a bang-up job in the makeup department -- one more reason to love this movie’s
superb overall design.)
Hey, speaking of design, shooting this movie in Prague was another very bright move. In the Czech Republic, even
though most of the village sets and even the forest itself were constructed on soundstages, one really feels a sense of
affection for the overall environment -- a palpable magic which flows through the sets and props and even the extras and
their costumes. Vancouver would not have cut the mustard.
So okay, character-wise, in watching The Brothers Grimm, one tolerates Damon, one enjoys Ledger and Headey and
Bellucci, and then we have the supporting characters. After watching Jonathan Pryce as the put-upon clerk in Gilliam’s
Brazil two decades ago, I rather like him here as a cruel, death-dealing French field commander, Delatombe (literally, “of
the tomb” -- nice one, Kruger). His sneers, torture-devices and explosive hellfire all arrive with a delicious sense of
menace, a fine counterpoint to the frightful creatures running rampant through the woods -- or, in many cases, simply
being the woods. Meanwhile, I realize that Peter Stormare is very cool, and that he’s one of those actors (with names
like “Giamatti” and “Woolgar”) that we’re supposed to rave up constantly in order to prove that we, too, are cool,
however here I found his sadistic Italian underling, Cavaldi, a bit on the annoying side. He’s pivotal to the plot, but a little
truly goes a long way, and there’s much more than a little of him here.
As for the actual fairy-tale content, it’s a bit light. This movie is a fine companion piece to atmospherically-similar
projects like Sleepy Hollow (an indigenous American tale shot in England!), or Neil Jordan’s wonderful Company of
Wolves, or Jan Svankmajer’s Otesánek (a.k.a. Little Otik) and even Michael Cohn’s Snow White: A Tale of Terror.
(Incidentally, those who complain that this movie lacks that certain “oogy-dark” quality Burton totally stole from Edward
Gorey are missing the point -- unlike most of Burton’s efforts, this movie is not an attempt to market product and
aesthetics to the cult of Hot Topic.) This is first and foremost an adventure story (complete with implausible and
unexplained Dead Main Character Who Miraculously Survives), and the elements of Grimm are, admittedly, mostly set-
dressing: a red riding hood here, a lock of long hair hanging from a tower there. Don’t go expecting a deep retelling of
those legends. There are fabulous fairy-tale flourishes (I found the sequence with the malevolent little mud-creature quite
wonderfully disturbing), but this is its own story.
Actually, taking that notion one step further, Gilliam has grabbed Kruger’s revisionist narrative and run off with it into his
own territory. In many, many ways -- from the uncanny resemblance of the primary village to the lavish castle vistas to
the humble hero battling the terrible monster -- what Gilliam has fashioned here is the unofficial sequel to his first feature
film as solo director, Jabberwocky. (To the uninitiated, that’s a good thing.)
If you’d like to drop your hard-earned coin watching dirty cops and lovable "gangstas" driving around shooting each
other, hey, have at it. But when something as tasty as The Brothers Grimm comes along -- and for me, that is nowhere
near often enough -- I’ll shamelessly cry more!
More!
The Brothers Grimm
Entertainment Value: 10/13
Style: 12/13
Philosophical Insight: 9/13
-Gregory Weinkauf, 24 August, 2005
Gilliam and Kruger deliver freaky fairy tale action.
BY GREGORY WEINKAUF
You know, this world is presently, perhaps, more devoid of magic than ever in history. It is truly gruesome. Most days,
I loathe it. Thus, if anyone were to trot over in a halfway-friendly fashion and tell me even a lousy fairy tale, I’d still bless
their children’s children’s children (who seem, alas, very likely to inherit a world far stupider, uglier and more
wretchedly overcrowded than this one). Thus, it is with significantly greater pleasure that I announce that The Brothers
Grimm ISN’T LOUSY! (How’s that for a promotional blurb, eh? Like: “The New SUV Whatever: Your family probably
won’t die instantly in it!”) Anyway, The Brothers Grimm is smart, inventive and thrilling and -- above all -- atmospheric.
There is magic in it. Whew. Thank you.
Of course, more’s the worry for these fictional Grimm brothers, re-wrought by screenwriter Ehren Kruger not as
biographically-accurate Jacob and Wilhelm but as nebbishy Jake (Heath Ledger) and cavalier Will (Matt Damon). Here,
kind of like Michael J. Fox in Peter Jackson’s grossly underrated coulda-been crowd-pleaser The Frighteners a decade
ago, the brothers are worldly hucksters who scare the provincial straights, then charge them dearly for expelling the
alleged bugaboos. Also, as in that fun film, the frights suddenly become real -- and very, very dangerous -- and our sort
of Napoleonic Ghostbusters find themselves stuck with the daunting task of facing overwhelming supernatural evil.
Hey, excellent. Kruger (Arlington Road, The Ring remakes) has never particularly bugged me or impressed me before,
but this is a splendid milieu, and he has fashioned it into a rich, surprising and quite comprehensible screenplay --
contrary to whatever the savvier-than-thou critics are attempting to proclaim about the movie being “confusing.” Perhaps
clear-cut narratives are harder to understand if one is desperately attempting to seem aloofly cosmopolitan whilst one’s
rarefied thumb is lodged in one’s rarefied butt. If anything, the story here may be too clear for its own good, but
complaining about that leans precariously toward total absurdity.
The wizard behind the curtain, of course, is illustrator-turned-animator-turned-director Terry Gilliam, he of the Pythonic
heritage, who is presently suffering the bitchy slings and arrows of the smarty-pants critical community who never get
any (or, at least, never get any that they actually want). Well, ha-ha on them. As you often suspect, they’re wrong.
Admittedly, I’m a huge fan of Gilliam’s work, but not for the chillingly “cool” reasons (Brazil, 12 Monkeys) so much as
for the gloriously humanistic reasons (Time Bandits, The Fisher King, both masterpieces in my estimation). Any
significant complaints I have about The Brothers Grimm are not aimed at Gilliam, but rather at some of the casting
choices (we’ll get to that) and at one very strange and unfortunate factor: I am too accustomed to Gilliam’s style;
anticipating his choices and rhythms (and ardent affection for bombast and bursts of dissonance) is presently too easy
for me, and thus The Brothers Grimm is a movie I happily appreciate more than I “get into” it. (This one sat on the shelf
awhile as he made another, Tideland, so more surprises may wait in the wings.) Perhaps this over-familiarity can
become the bridge of understanding between me and my uppity and willfully detached critical brethren and sistren. Not
that I’m worried about it: This movie looks suitably fantastic, moves at an exciting pace, and -- as with the best of
Gilliam’s work -- sticks with you and continues to provoke. It’s a large, unwieldy cauldron of fantasticality. Yay that!
The plot involves us observing Will and Jake as destitute little lads (Petr Ratimec and Jeremy Robson), so poor that their
mother is burning their rocking horse to keep them warm (Gilliam did grow up in Minnesota), and then, thus established,
the ideologically-opposed two grow up and wander from village to village, rigging up “supernatural” horrors with the help
of their zany, thickheaded associates Hidlick (Mackenzie Crook) and Bunst (Richard Ridings) -- only to “save” one village
after another, for rich rewards and, for Will, the pleasure of a local damsel or ten. However, trouble is afoot: In one small
village, local girls have been disappearing into the big, dark forest, and Will and Jake are summoned to find out why, and
to combat the culprit.
A word about the trailer: If you haven’t viewed it already, don’t. The damned thing gives away the whole movie. It is,
essentially, the Cliffs Notes version of the movie. Bleh. Hollywood, quit it.
Is the movie scary? That very much depends on your definition of scary. Recently I was in the middle of a very large
city, on a dubious street, and a little wannabe-"gangta" punk sidled up to me with one hand shoved into the pocket of his
sweatshirt, clenched around a less than friendly-looking implement. I had with me a bag which may or may not have
contained valuables. The youngster eyed me very carefully, then signaled to a cohort who was hiding behind a concrete
wall -- a cohort whose purpose, clearly, was to move hastily to the other side of the proposed victim, to block any
reasonable attempt at a quick exit. When I noticed that the cohort was also clutching something purposely concealed, I
very swiftly decided to hasten toward a better-lighted area where a few other people were milling about. The punks
carefully watched me to see if I would return, and when I didn’t, they departed, and one of them literally said, “We made
it too obvious.” I have been held up at gunpoint by little punks before. It is truly scary, because they are deranged and
dangerous. By comparison, supernatural monsters feel quite welcoming, even inspiring, to me.
Anyway, beyond the plot there is the theme, and perhaps this has some bearing on the hoitier and toitier critics getting
their panties in a bunch. Not often is it in popular film that we see cute little Germans being overrun by horrifically
oppressive Frenchmen. I’m no big fan of Germany myself (if ever a nation needed a chill-pill…), but I did find it
refreshing to see French people running around kicking ass in a monstrous way whilst German villagers hunker down,
desperate to protect their quaint, unobtrusive, provincial ways. Talk about a subversive movie! You see, while Will and
Jake dress up in typically wacky Gilliamesque garb and battle killer trees, a bizarre werewolf and the ultimate villainess,
the backdrop of history presents the Napoleonic invasion of Germany. But even beyond that, we’ve got the Age of
Enlightenment threatening to stamp out the far dreamier (if also much more superstitious) ways of Olde Europe. Here we
have, in essence, the Delirious Dreamers battling the Bullying Bureaucrats -- a theme which runs through just about all of
Gilliam’s work, and which is quite ingeniously delivered here.
The annoying critics seem to take the movie to task on just about anything they can think of, but they keep tap-dancing
around that theme. One precocious young fellow even accuses this gorgeous movie of being visually ugly and chaotic.
Um…sure, go ahead and trust him: He was a huge fan of the beautiful and elegant Terminator 3.
I never say stupid things like “Honestly, folks,” but…Honestly, folks -- the knee-jerk negativism toward this movie is
almost entirely unfounded.
As aforementioned, however, I can find some fault with the casting. It’s a shame that the cast of Sleepy Hollow (an
enjoyable but ultimately inferior movie) couldn’t have been transplanted wholesale here -- then we’d get Johnny Depp
and Helena Bonham Carter and two terrific Christophers (Lee and Walken)…and heck, Christina Ricci could have gone a
little more butch and played Jake or something. Instead, here it feels like Gilliam is working with half a cast, with some
pallid substitutes to stop up the gaps. Ledger is excellent as usual, but he’s in the wrong role: He should be the strutting,
defiant Will, not the superstitious bookworm Jake. Damon seems like a somewhat pleasant person, but I think he has a
disturbingly misshapen face and I really, really do not enjoy watching his big, freaky-baby mug bouncing around twenty
feet high. (As with his Associate Who Shall Not Be Named, I am deeply confused and sickened that he is a rich and
famous “leading man.”) Much as with Elijah Wood in Lord of the Rings, I feel that the whole production is done a
disservice via improper -- and annoying -- casting. I’ll give Damon points for being funny a couple of times (One
standout line is: “I made that armor -- it’s not magic! It’s just…shiny!”), but I don’t like his fake English accent (in 19th-
century Germany?), I don’t like his utter lack of any form of subtlety, and his goofy mongoloid head creeps me out.
Meanwhile, as the local heroine, hipster Lena Headey
(who established herself doing underage nudity with
Jeremy Irons in Waterland and is currently appearing
in the guaranteed horror moneymaker The Cave) is
energetic and appealing here, but she nonetheless
feels like a substitute for Samantha Morton -- who is
herself already becoming a tediously obvious choice.
That’s the thing, really -- the obviousness, the
meddling. Originally, Nicole Kidman was slated to
play the villainess of The Brothers Grimm…but why?
I think she has done some magnificent work in some
films (and plenty of mediocre stuff, too), but she’s
simply not scary. I get the feeling that she’s hella irritating in real life, but the woman simply is not scary. Despite the
notable absence of a Johnny Depp or a Christopher Lee, here we have this movie’s only successful case of substitution:
Monica Bellucci. The woman is clearly quite familiar with terrible monsters. Have you seen the ghastly tantrum called
Irréversible? A normal person says ‘no’ to a role like that. She brings to her work here an alluring sexuality, sure, but
also a dreadful creepiness which fully serves the project. Well met. (Plus it also doesn’t hurt that Christine Beveridge,
Vivien Riley and Roisin O’Reilly do a bang-up job in the makeup department -- one more reason to love this movie’s
superb overall design.)
Hey, speaking of design, shooting this movie in Prague was another very bright move. In the Czech Republic, even
though most of the village sets and even the forest itself were constructed on soundstages, one really feels a sense of
affection for the overall environment -- a palpable magic which flows through the sets and props and even the extras and
their costumes. Vancouver would not have cut the mustard.
So okay, character-wise, in watching The Brothers Grimm, one tolerates Damon, one enjoys Ledger and Headey and
Bellucci, and then we have the supporting characters. After watching Jonathan Pryce as the put-upon clerk in Gilliam’s
Brazil two decades ago, I rather like him here as a cruel, death-dealing French field commander, Delatombe (literally, “of
the tomb” -- nice one, Kruger). His sneers, torture-devices and explosive hellfire all arrive with a delicious sense of
menace, a fine counterpoint to the frightful creatures running rampant through the woods -- or, in many cases, simply
being the woods. Meanwhile, I realize that Peter Stormare is very cool, and that he’s one of those actors (with names
like “Giamatti” and “Woolgar”) that we’re supposed to rave up constantly in order to prove that we, too, are cool,
however here I found his sadistic Italian underling, Cavaldi, a bit on the annoying side. He’s pivotal to the plot, but a little
truly goes a long way, and there’s much more than a little of him here.
As for the actual fairy-tale content, it’s a bit light. This movie is a fine companion piece to atmospherically-similar
projects like Sleepy Hollow (an indigenous American tale shot in England!), or Neil Jordan’s wonderful Company of
Wolves, or Jan Svankmajer’s Otesánek (a.k.a. Little Otik) and even Michael Cohn’s Snow White: A Tale of Terror.
(Incidentally, those who complain that this movie lacks that certain “oogy-dark” quality Burton totally stole from Edward
Gorey are missing the point -- unlike most of Burton’s efforts, this movie is not an attempt to market product and
aesthetics to the cult of Hot Topic.) This is first and foremost an adventure story (complete with implausible and
unexplained Dead Main Character Who Miraculously Survives), and the elements of Grimm are, admittedly, mostly set-
dressing: a red riding hood here, a lock of long hair hanging from a tower there. Don’t go expecting a deep retelling of
those legends. There are fabulous fairy-tale flourishes (I found the sequence with the malevolent little mud-creature quite
wonderfully disturbing), but this is its own story.
Actually, taking that notion one step further, Gilliam has grabbed Kruger’s revisionist narrative and run off with it into his
own territory. In many, many ways -- from the uncanny resemblance of the primary village to the lavish castle vistas to
the humble hero battling the terrible monster -- what Gilliam has fashioned here is the unofficial sequel to his first feature
film as solo director, Jabberwocky. (To the uninitiated, that’s a good thing.)
If you’d like to drop your hard-earned coin watching dirty cops and lovable "gangstas" driving around shooting each
other, hey, have at it. But when something as tasty as The Brothers Grimm comes along -- and for me, that is nowhere
near often enough -- I’ll shamelessly cry more!
More!
The Brothers Grimm
Entertainment Value: 10/13
Style: 12/13
Philosophical Insight: 9/13
-Gregory Weinkauf, 24 August, 2005
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