• The Fisher King

5/30/26 (Sat)

Terry Gilliam’s 1991 film, based for his first time on another’s writer’s work, is not my cup of tea. The film’s “Fisher King,” a character of Arthurian legend tasked with guarding the Holy Grail, is presumably Jeff Bridges here since he is the one who is redeemed by a chosen one (Robin Williams). But the film spends a lot of time portraying Robin’s fantasies of the Red Knight, a traumatic vision resulting from his memory of his blood-spattered wife in a senseless murder, and his search for the grail. (Not to mention that his name Perry recalls Parsifal, who in the legend heals the king.) I was confused. I wish director Gilliam and his screenwriter Richard LaGravenese had kept the fantasy elements as figments of Robin’s mind rather than spelling them out for us, if he needed them at all.

A radio shock jock (Bridges), on the verge of a new phase as star of a big sitcom, treats his listeners with utter disdain and disinterest as he prepares for his coming riches. But things turn sharply downward when his callous advice leads one desperate listener to commit a mass murder/suicide in a bar.

We shift three years later to find that the DJ has lost everything – his job, his sitcom, his girlfriend – and is wallowing in self-pity. He sometimes emerges to help out his new girlfriend (Mercedes Ruehl, fantastic) in her video store, but can barely maintain interest even in that simple task.

One day, he goes out in a drunken stupor intending to commit suicide but is brutally attacked by teenage thugs, who think he’s a homeless bum. He is rescued by a truly homeless man (Williams). That man turns out to be a nut who imagines that he has been tasked by heaven to find the Holy Grail. Bridges learns that Williams became insane when his wife was killed in the very murder prompted by the former DJ’s insensitive talk. He becomes determined to nurse Williams back to health by matching him up with a mousy woman who the crazed man has observed from afar. Several twists and turns and miracles later, both couples – Bridges and his girlfriend, and Williams and the girl – find happiness.

The idea of redemption is nice in theory, but the filmmakers go overboard in trying to get there. The fantasy portions are irritating, the entire sequence involving luring the unknown woman to the video store was badly misconceived, and I don’t know what the heck was going on with the invasion of the mansion and theft of the trophy that stands in for the Grail. On top of that, I’d prefer not to think of the mawkish ending at all. The writer seemed too intent on hewing to the Fisher King tale than in achieving a realistic modern story, especially with the addition of the traumatized widower. He would have done better to jettison the Fisher King framework altogether and just tell his story.

The film is not helped by a typically sappy performance by Robin Williams. I assume the part was written with him in mind, and he plays it to the hilt. But it always feels like he’s putting on a show. He does have a nicely written and performed scene when he’s walking the insecure girl home, though even that ends unsatisfactorily. Critics say that the role feels very different in the wake of his suicide, but that has nothing to do with the film at hand. I don’t understand the Oscar nomination or accolades, but I never do with him.

While Bridges is fine as always, the most memorable performances were hilarious turns by a not-to-be-messed-with Ruehl (who won a deserved Oscar) and Amanda Plummer as the dweebish girl. Michael Jeter (just coming off his Tony-winning turn in Grand Hotel) also impressed as a homeless singer, both in an eye-opening version of “Rose’s Turn” and a powerful late appearance that pricks Bridges’ conscience.

The movie makes ample use of the song “How About You?,” which basically becomes Robin’s theme song. Its initial appearance in the park reminded me ominously of “Singin’ in the Rain” in A Clockwork Orange. I’m not sure why they chose that particular number, which feels rather random, but at least it’s a pleasant listen.

Gilliam obviously wants to raise consciousness about the homeless; I enjoyed the sequence when the TV producer was suggesting a homeless comedy, and a bit more satire like that would have helped. While not as bad as the grating adulation of the homeless in Dustin Hoffman’s Hero, it still bordered on pandering. In any case, the movie bit off much more than it could chew with the tribulations of two couples, veering from a deeper theme of redemption. A pity.