Brazil

Terry Gilliam, UK, 1985, 142 minutes

Coming from the warped mind of undoubtedly the most talented of the Pythons (DIE! –Ed.) ‘Brazil’ is a twisted, dark Orwellian nightmarescape filled with enough black humour to eclipse Jean-Pierre Jeunet’s whole career. Sam Lowry (Johnathon Pryce) is stuck in a thankless bureaucratic Tartarus, where conformist policy is enforced with zealous abandon by the administration. Sam’s stressful life is about to take a definite turn for the worse after he attempts to rectify a typo on an official document ordering the arrest of an innocent man. Soon he finds himself under the persecution of the authorities, who believe him to be in league with the infamous guerrilla central heating technician Harry Tuttle (Robert De Niro). That’s right, a guerrilla central heating technician.

Amongst the film’s many dark delights are Michael Palin’s deliciously evil performance as the malevolent Jack Lint, and the mother of all headfuck endings (just don’t watch this film under any kind of influence, because we don’t have any kind of insurance for the mental enfeeblement this film might cause!). Above all this you can revel in the genius of Gilliam’s visual talents, in creating so many memorable images it defies belief, such is his godlike talent (Don’t make me come over there! –Ed.). The film may leave new viewers a little confused (damn, my understatement alarm just went off), but it is worthy of your time whether you are making a return to ‘Brazil’s dark world or are an inexperienced virgin heading in trepidation towards your first time. Just remember as you watch this cinematic dark-house that you are seeing a triumph of art over commercialism. The well-documented conflict between Gilliam and Universal chairman Sid Sheinberg over the film’s narrative coherency (or lack thereof) and, particularly, it’s downbeat ending, led thankfully to the director’s original vision being sustained (and also Sheinberg’s mention in the credits as Worst Boy).

So my friends, be brave, keep an open mind, and when we next we meet we shall be sunning ourselves in the brilliance that is ‘Brazil’, the one holiday location on Filmsoc’s viewing schedule that you won’t want to miss (Right, that’s it. Pack your stuff, you’re going to the correction chamber Wilkinson... Come on, stop struggling-Ed.).

Review by Ben Wilkinson
Taken from EUFS Programme Autumn 2003

Set `Somewhere in the 20th Century', Brazil is a tale of bureaucracy run amok, and the dreams of one Information Retrieval employee named Lowry (Jonathan Pryce) in particular. Lowry spends his days shuffling papers, entering data into computer terminals and placating his somewhat highly strung boss Mr. Kurtzmann (Ian Holm) who finds the battle with his paperwork too much. Meanwhile, while Kurtzmann's back is turned, the whole of the office drops its facade of bustling activity, and watches TV re-runs on their computer terminals.

Lowry, however, dreams. He dreams of flying amongst the clouds, trying to save his dream woman. One day, Lowry is sent to deliver a refund cheque to the unfortunate widow of an accidentally `retired' Mr Buttle, who was overcharged for his `Information Retrieval'. As he does so he spies the woman of his dreams, who just happens to live upstairs.

Lowry manages to lose her, but becomes more and more obsessed with finding out out who she is. He takes a promotion to the department of Information Retrieval to gain access to confidential files. As he becomes more and more obsessed with her, his work suffers, and eventually he is also brought in for `Information Retrieval'. Brazil is filled with nightmarish Orwellian imagery. Posters proclaim "Don't suspect a friend: report him" and nothing can be done without all the correct paperwork being filled in. The anonymity provided by the faceless machine of government means that people ignore the suffering caused by a bombing campaign that terrorists have been waging for years - a minister berates them for "not playing the game". Everyone is content living their nondescript lives within the system.

In Brazil Gilliam has created an exceptionally detailed world. Set almost everywhen in the 20th century, the film seems both high-tech (Lowry's apartment features labour saving devices. They don't work, but...) and curiously quaint (the computer terminals have typewriter keyboards, and tiny screens) at the same time. And, of course, there’s the omnipresent ductwork.

Universal fought against releasing the original cut of Brazil, finding it too depressing, and too long. They recut the movie, making it a straightforward boy-gets-girl movie, but Gilliam successfully fought back. He took out an ad in Variety asking when his film was to be released, and once Brazil had managed to win the prestigious LA Critics prizes for Best Film, Best Screenplay and Best Director, the studio had no choice but release Gilliam's version.

Review by Jonathan M. Caryl
Taken from EUFS Programme Autumn 1999

Docile state clerk Sam Lowry (Jonathan Pryce) is sent out into the metropolis to inform an unfortunate personage that her husband has been eliminated in a particularly nasty case of mistaken identity. But he meets the girl of his dreams (literally: he has some exceptional dreams) and dares to buck the system in order to win her over.

Brazil is set in a similar kind of worid to that predicted by George Orwell in the 40s, with basic computer systems and communication systems, all watched over by Big Brother. The set designers have done an incredible job creating a grey, claustrophobic, urban sprawl. It is impossible to avoid comparisons with the film 1984, released a year previous. Brazil is arguably the better, just as black but funnier with it. Particularly worthy of praise is Robert de Niro's guerrilla engineer (the intended in the mistaken identity case) who wages war with the State's Bob Hoskins, their battle-ground being Lowry's defunct central-heating system.

Brazil is probably Gilliam's best film and a contender for one of the best of the decade; the script is clever and biting (as you would expect with Tom Stoppard as co-writer). The acting by the largely British cast is impeccable, and I'll say it again the sets look amazing. Gilliam had to battle with Universal to keep the downbeat ending, in keeping with the film's sense of anti bureaucracy, thus ensuring its cult status.

Review by Stephen Cox
Taken from EUFS Programme 1995-96