Review : 'Brazil' (1985)

When George Orwell set a novel (the name of which escapes me now) in 1984 he created a terrifying dystopia, a world full of drones, devoid of freedom. A year after the events of Nineteen-Eighty-Four (remembered the title, look at that) came Terry Gilliam's Brazil. Described by many as "1984 meets Monty Python", on many "Films To See Before You're Dead" lists and holding a 98% Fresh rating on Rotten Tomatoes (important), Brazil is firmly in my top 10 list and I firmly believe it will change the way you look at cinema. It certainly did for me when I was 17.

Instead of Winston Smith we now have the cleverly-named Sam Lowry (how's that for an evocative name?), a meek government official who dreams of life as a superhero, rescuing a beautiful caged goddess. His boring routine in a world crippled by paperwork is turned upside down when a clerical error occurs, the wrong man is accidentally killed and a returned cheque results in Sam meeting his dream woman (she doesn't reciprocate) and going on one hell of a ride. The film runs at over 2 hours and the pace is incredible. It's exhausting.

Calling Brazil "1984 meets Monty Python" is both fair and unfair. The Monty Python part is certainly true. Terry Gilliam writes (with Tom Stoppard  and Charles McKeown) and directs and Michael Palin plays Sam's 'friend' Jack. The film is extremely funny. Parts of it are screwball comedy, there's satire and at time's it's pure farce. It's also incredibly bleak, as bleak as anything in 1984. This is by no means simply Orwell with laughs. Brazil raises issues on the media and government's handling of terrorism ("How many terrorists have you met? Actual terrorists?" questions Sam's dream-woman as he spouts about the need for war) which, 26 years later,  are possibly even more relevant than they were originally.

The claustrophobic visuals of the film are testament to Gilliam. The unnamed city in Brazil (taking its title from the song of the same name, arrangements of which serve as the brilliant, quirky score) is one where you hardly see the sky. The fantastical imagery used in the numerous dream sequences acts as stunning juxtaposition to the rabbit-warren office blocks, government buildings and cell-like apartment complexes. The look of the film owes something to Fritz Lang's Metropolis for sure. The incredible finale, beginning with Sam being interrogated by Jack, was shot in the inside of a power station's cooling tower but you'd never know it. It looks vast and alien.You'd be forgiven for thinking it was a wildly expensive set. Gilliam's inventiveness with visuals is as impressive as the inventiveness of the dialogue, by turns hilarious and jarring.

The use of Jonathan Pryce, a prolific stage actor, as the protagonist is inspired. His slightly theatrical performance is perfectly pitched in such a bizarre film. The scenes he shares with Robert De Niro, playing a renegade repairman (and showing that he truly can do anything as he successfully attempts 'kooky') are some of some of the high points. Stealing just about every scene she appears in is Katherine Helmond as Sam's plastic surgery-obsessed mother who is determined for Sam to take a promotion using her contacts. Kim Greist as Jill, Sam's dream-girl, manages to be radiant in the dream sequences yet is all gritty attitude when he meets her for real. He loves her all the same of course. Michael Palin has never been more unrecognisably sinister. The rest of the supporting cast is like a who's-who list of great British actors, it's an impeccably cast film.

To give away the ending would be a disgrace but let's just say if you're not left breathless by the time those Brazillian drums kick in, you're barely human.