TIFF Report: Tideland Review

Reader Comments

1. Film Cauldron 09/15/2005 @ 10:35pm

   Poor Terry Gilliam. The visionary director just can’t catch a break. Blessed with one of the most fertile imaginations in modern cinema, equally renowned as an animator, filmmaker, and iconoclast, he has made a handful of highly original, single-minded films, most of which are now considered classics (although it tends to take a few years before critical revisionism regards his work as such; I bet few recall The Adventures of Baron Munchhausen was first considered a costly bomb on par with Heaven’s Gate). But of late he has had to suffer a critical beating for his mainstream-designed The Brothers Grimm, not to mention the well-documented collapse of The Man Who Killed Don Quixote (why does the word schadenfreude come to mind?), and more often than not he is regarded as somewhat of a brilliant madman with integrity to burn, willing to battle Hollywood at any cost to keep his visions intact.

   Now comes his adaptation of Mitch Cullin’s Tideland, a category defying film that is at turns poetic, disgusting, absurd, and darkly funny (think the languid pacing of Spirit of the Beehive, the fever dream of Alice in Wonderland, the wry insanity Psycho, and a large dose of Terence Malik gone insane). In many ways, this is the purest Gilliam film since Brazil (a film that also borrowed liberally from other sources while maintaining its own originality), and harkens back to the days when auteurs were not only allowed to follow their wildest muse but were expected to do so. And that, too, presents what will no doubt be Tideland’s greatest failing, as well as its highest achievement. Cinema has become so cynical in the last twenty years - so narrow in scope and so entertainment driven - that anything which requires viewers to experience a motion picture on its own terms is usually greeted with scorn. These would be very tough times, indeed, for the likes of a young Fellini, Kubrick, and Lynch. That’s not to say Tideland is a perfectly misunderstood creation, although it should be pointed out that those who are screaming foul about this film being pointless, self indulgent, and too weird are likely the very same people who ridiculed Grimm for being unoriginal, mainstream, and plain. Yes, there were walkouts at its screenings, gasps of shock, even angry grumbling. There were also laughs, applause, and continued debates concerning what the film was really about (how often does that occur these days after a screening?).

   In the end, Tideland will likely please a select group who prefer to experience cinema rather than opposing it with their own expectations (there were those who were still talking about it two days following its premiere, even when they hated it). But for those who are anxiously wanting Time Bandits 2 or desire some degree of Pythonesque humor, Tideland will disturb, bore, and profoundly bother to the point of contempt. Nevertheless, it is a very unique and, at times, incredible film, infused with at least two amazing performances, beautiful photography, and one of the most enigmatic endings I’ve seen in ages. Hate it or love it, few will be able to deny the lingering, ineffable vibrations left by this film, or that it stands as further proof that its director has stayed true to himself. Of course, prepare for the yin/yang laments to come in spades: Grimm would have been a better film had Gilliam be left to his own devices; Tideland would have been a better film had Gilliam not been left to his own devices. Poor Terry Gilliam; apparently he can do no right even when he does.

2. Maolsheachlann 09/03/2006 @ 10:40am

   Yes, I get tired of entertainment-driven cinema, too, and it was obvious that Gilliam wasn’t allowed to follow his muse with the awful (though visually brilliant) Brothers Grimm. But Tidelands was such a predictable, cliché-ridden art-house film it made me blush, more formulaic in its own way than the bilge on offer in the multiplexes. Nearly everything seemed to be thrown in that could be considered shocking or challenging. The entire thing seemed to be a gratuitous spectacle of weirdness that gave it the rather sleazy atmosphere of a freak-show. At the same time, Jeliza Rose was such a preposterously innocent child, even for a fable or a fantasy, the whole thing had a strangely Victorian sentimentality underneath.

   I think there was a lot of good stuff in this film; the wonderful lyrical fantasy sequences, the twisted humour, and the uncompromising ending. But freakery does not make art, and I wish film-makers would give up their game of epater les bourgeois and just make good, exciting, meaningful films.

3. Trixie 10/03/2006 @ 10:37am

   I have never hated a movie more. It was gratuitously dreadful.
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