<rss xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" version="2.0"><channel><title>Terry Gilliam - vo.rs</title><link>https://vo.rs/tags/terry-gilliam/</link><description>Latest from the Terry Gilliam desk at vo.rs.</description><generator>Hugo -- gohugo.io</generator><language>en</language><copyright>This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.</copyright><lastBuildDate>Mon, 02 Sep 2024 09:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="https://vo.rs/tags/terry-gilliam/" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Brazil: The Dystopia That Laughs</title><link>https://vo.rs/screen/brazil-the-dystopia-that-laughs/</link><description>&lt;p&gt;Most film dystopias want you to be afraid. Terry Gilliam&amp;rsquo;s &lt;em&gt;Brazil&lt;/em&gt;, from 1985, wants you to laugh until you notice you have stopped, and by then the trap has closed. It is the funniest totalitarian nightmare ever committed to film, a world of clanking ductwork and misfiled paperwork and cosmetic surgery gone septic, and its comedy is precisely what makes it unbearable. A grim dystopia lets you keep your distance by scaring you. A ridiculous one pulls you in giggling and then reveals that the joke is a machine for grinding people to nothing, and that you have been enjoying it.&lt;/p&gt;</description><pubDate>Mon, 02 Sep 2024 09:00:00 +0000</pubDate></item><item><title>12 Monkeys: Gilliam's Time-Loop of Despair</title><link>https://vo.rs/screen/12-monkeys-gilliams-time-loop-of-despair/</link><description>&lt;p&gt;Terry Gilliam is not a director you associate with control. His films tend to burst their seams, run long, over-design every corner of the frame and dare the studio to rein them in. &lt;em&gt;12 Monkeys&lt;/em&gt;, from 1995, is the strange exception, the one time his baroque instincts served a structure so tight it functions like a trap snapping shut. That discipline came from an unusual source: the screenplay by David and Janet Peoples took its bones from Chris Marker&amp;rsquo;s 1962 &lt;em&gt;La Jetée&lt;/em&gt;, a twenty-eight-minute French film told almost entirely in still photographs, about a man haunted by an image of a death he witnessed as a child. Marker&amp;rsquo;s short is one of the purest time-travel stories ever made, and Gilliam&amp;rsquo;s achievement is to inflate it to feature length without puncturing it.&lt;/p&gt;</description><pubDate>Thu, 11 Jul 2024 09:00:00 +0000</pubDate></item></channel></rss>