The movie portion
of this review was previously published at Bullz-Eye. Stills are
not screengrabs from the Criterion Blu-ray.
If you were a certain kind of boy or young teenager in the ‘80s, then there’s a good chance Time Bandits was a very important film for you. Sure, you loved Ghostbusters, Raiders of the Lost Ark and The Goonies, but Time Bandits was special in a different way because not everyone else was in on it; it was seemingly dismissed even by most adults (well, the ones I grew up around anyway). For many young people, it was our first introduction to the whacked out joys of Monty Python, even if we didn’t realize it at the time, as Time Bandits is not a proper Python film. But half of the six-man comedy troupe is involved in the picture, and so when we finally got around to discovering Python, we recognized John Cleese and Michael Palin from this film. Little did we know, though, that all of Python’s strange animations were the handiwork of the guy that directed this piece. Wasn’t it refreshing to not have every fact and figure at your immediate disposal way back then? You picked up information over the years while actively seeking it out. Perhaps, as Time Bandits hints, computers really are the playthings of Evil.
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| David Rappaport and Craig Warnock |
However, it’s
also possible you were not a certain
kind of boy in the ‘80s, or that you’ve never even seen Time Bandits. If so,
let’s lay it out there. One night, 11-year old Kevin (Craig Warnock) lies in
his bed. Out of his wardrobe tumble six dwarfs on the run from God (who here is
referred to as the Supreme Being). He’s their employer and they build trees for
him. But they’ve stolen a powerful map from God, and now travel around through
history, attempting to loot the past for riches. Kevin follows, and finds
himself in all manner of incredulous situations, such as bantering with Robin
Hood (John Cleese) or conning Napoleon (Ian Holm) out of his wealth. At the
same time, Evil (David Warner, in one of his very best roles) watches over,
secretly plotting his takeover of the world via the map, and eventually, an
understanding of computers. Exactly what is “The Most Fabulous Object in the
World,” and can the inept group of thieves procure it?
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| Sean Connery as Agamemnon |
As is
probably to be expected, Time Bandits works on two different
levels. There’s the fantasy/adventure angle for younger viewers, and a sharp,
comical script loaded with observations and commentary for the adults. Much of
the film’s satire revolves around consumerism and greed, and the lengths to
which people will go in order to satiate such desires. Although John Cleese and
Sean Connery get top billing (albeit alphabetical), the film’s stars are
Warnock and the dwarf actors. David Rappaport plays the leader, Randall, and
the emotional backbone of the film is really the relationship between him and
Kevin, which is not even remotely a feel-good sort of thing. In fact, the
dwarfs aren’t even particularly nice people, and in one segment, when Kevin is
separated from them in Ancient Greece, he meets King Agamemnon (Connery), who
is more of a father to him than his real father ever was. The dwarfs kidnap
Kevin away from his new, perfect life, because they realize he’s actually
smarter than they are, and they need him to further their schemes.
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| David Warner as Evil |
Time Bandits didn’t seem a particularly dark movie
to me as a kid, but in rewatching it today, I find myself somewhat aghast at
how cynical it really is (although even when I was young I realized how fucked
up and bleak the final moments of the film are). This really should come as no
surprise when you consider that Terry Gilliam unveiled Brazil, the ultimate
dark, fantastical social commentary of the 80s, a few years later. (Gilliam was
even trying to get Brazil made before Bandits.)
While this was Gilliam’s third film (he’d previously co-directed Monty
Python and the Holy Grail and helmed Jabberwocky solo), it was
the first in which he indulged himself seemingly every whim and idea. Each
frame of the movie is crammed with detail, from the important to the trivial,
and perhaps what’s most striking about it today is that all the effects are
handmade (also the name of the production company – Handmade Films). This is a
CGI-free picture, from back when there was no CGI, and it’s all the better for
it. It’s a tangible universe; one that you can feel and believe in.
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| John Cleese as Robin Hood |
None of this
is to imply it’s a perfect film - just that it’s an ambitious and fun one.
While the movie spares little time getting going, it takes forever to end, and
much of the big finish, in which Kevin and the dwarfs battle Evil, goes on for
far too long, and undercuts some of the intelligence the film is rooted in.
When the Supreme Being (Ralph Richardson) shows up, the movie somewhat
recovers, but even by then it feels as though the joke has perhaps gone on for
a little too long. Yet these are nitpicks from someone who’s seen it countless
times, and is possibly taking it all a bit too seriously. Time Bandits remains
Fantasy 101, and a must see for people who enjoy this kind of fare. While
you’re at it, why not share it with an impressionable 10-year old?
Blu-ray Review &
Extras: The previous
Image Entertainment Blu-ray release was a visual letdown, and barely deserving of the
format, so thankfully Criterion has finally stepped up to the plate and delivered
their shining goods via this new 2K digital restoration supervised by Gilliam. Time
Bandits soars once again! Ported over from their own previous DVD
release is a commentary track featuring contributions from Gilliam, Craig Warnock,
Michael Palin, John Cleese, and David Warner (though not all together in one
room). A new 23-minute piece traces the design aspects of the film through interviews
with costume designer James Acheson and production designer Milly Burns.
Running at a
whopping 81 minutes is a revealing conversation between Gilliam and film
scholar Peter van Bagh. From the Midnight Sun Film Festival in 1998, the
interview was recorded not long after Gilliam finished Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas,
though that particular film is only briefly discussed at the close. The rest of
the conversation traces his growing up in Minnesota, his joining of Monty Python,
and talk of each his classic films made until that point. If it’s not
the definitive Gilliam interview, it’s certainly up there, and it is always a
delight to listen to Gilliam talk life and shop, and here he’s given plenty of
time to pontificate.
A short,
vintage 8-minute piece from Tom Snyder’s Tomorrow is an interview with
Shelley Duvall tied to the film’s release, which more than anything else is a
great reminder of how obnoxious Tom Snyder was. There’s a short gallery of
photos from the set, and a very funny three-minute trailer that wreaks havoc
with the concept of trailer voiceovers - also ported over from the Criterion
DVD. (The “Time Bandits Scrapbook,” which ran for 3:13 is absent.) Instead of a
booklet, this disc’s essay, entitled “Guerrilla Fantasy” by critic David
Sterritt, is printed on a large fold out piece of paper, which flips over to
reveal a recreation of the iconic map. It’s not as large as the one in the
film, yet would look very nice framed, though I suspect David Sterritt would
rather me not recommend doing that. Finally, the disc features a snazzy
lenticular slipcover, which may or may not be available on future pressings of
the disc.
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| Photo of fold-out map included in the Criterion disc |
