Brazil beguiles with its craft and characters and perturbs with its prescient themes
Don’t fight it son. Confess quickly! If you hold out too long you could jeopardize your credit rating.
A quote that is eminently silly, but with disconcerting undertones. The creep of capitalism into a fascist state. It’s approach was seen decades ago, explored in the writings of authors such as Orwell and Vonnegut, and perhaps never feels as dangerously close as it does today. Brazil plunges into a dystopia like no other, one crafted from the singular imagination of Terry Gilliam (Month Python, Timebandits, The Adventures of Baron Munchausen) that beguiles with its craft and characters and perturbs with its prescient themes.
Brazil tells of Sam Lowry (Jonathan Pryce), a low-level file clerk in the “Ministry of Information” who escapes his days of paper-pushing drudgery with dreams of himself as a winged warrior saving a damsel in distress. When a literal bug in the system leads to the wrongful arrest and death of an innocent man (Archibald Buttle instead of suspected terrorist Archibald Tuttle), Sam becomes entangled in a bureaucratic nightmare. Trying to right this wrong he crosses paths with Jill (Kim Greist), a courier driver and the literal woman he sees in his dreams, contributing to her arrest. Seeking the help of his high-ranking, image-obsessed mother Ida (Katherine Helmond), Sam looks to climb the ranks of the Ministry to try and help Jill and clean up his mess, but the deeper he goes, the more disturbing and dangerous the system becomes.
It sounds simple, and to the films credit the main thrust of the story (by Gilliam, alongside co-writers Tom Stoppard and Charles McKeown) is cohesive, but distilling down the essence of the film is a Herculean task. Part Orwellian parable, part Kafkaesque descent into madness, this is a dystopia where the rich get richer and the poor become increasingly downtrodden. The push for profit has led to a sideline of advancement. Technology is a mismatch of old and new, the outcome are systems and surrounds continually breaking down. Work relies on the use of paper, rubber stamped and pushed out through pneumatic tubes that connect the buildings and workers within. It’s a state, and a bureaucracy so convoluted and callous it reeks of Vogon. Disrupters and non-conformists are labelled as “terrorists”, bureaucratic procedure trumps morality and the rights and needs of the people. It’s a bleak plutocracy, holding the people underfoot in their barren surrounds while the rich plump themselves, and use procedures and potions to try and hold on to their youth.
Pryce is magnetic as the lead, a befuddled sort, sympathetic and hapless but with a quiet conviction and drive that endears you to him and his efforts. Supporting players such as Robert De Niro, Michael Palin, Bob Hoskins, Jim Broadbent, Peter Vaughn, all carving out their own mark with authentic and impactful charm. They give the film a timbre complementary to the Mad-Hatter nature of it’s director, adding to this shift between comedy and cruelty. This juxtaposition is incredibly effective, perhaps most so with the decision to set the film at Christmas, giving us a glimpse of seasonal décor and imagery alongside state sponsored kidnapping and torture.
Gilliam’s visual flair is driven home with wide-angle shots, paced movement and intricate set pieces. Production design from Norman Garwood, aided by art directors John Beard and Keith Pain is stellar, using derelict locations like Croydon Power Station and repurposed flour mills, along with repurposed materials, future tech and lo-fi equipment, melding together into a recognizable but off-kilter and failing future. Costume designer Jim Acheson’s inventive touches enhance the film’s grotesque beauty, especially among the plastic-surgery-obsessed elites.
The ideas in the film about standing up to power were reflected in the real world handling of Brazil. Gilliam held firm to his original cut, one with a far bleaker ending, while Universal president Sid Sheinberg pushed for edits and an ending that tilted to the more upbeat (this “happy-cut” is included in the extra features. Gilliam famously took out a full-page ad in Variety to push back on the man and the system that pushed for his compliance. More than daring to hold true to your ideals, Brazil leads us to consider how even in the most oppressive environment, our minds will still be free. Our imagination can be a refuge in dark times is something Gilliam has explored many times in his works, notably The Fisher King. But this idea never hits as hard or as poignantly as in Brazil‘s climax. Sam’s heart shattering descent into darkness is mirrored by a defiant embrace of fantasy. A burning ember of humanity in a cold world.
The Package
Having a copy of Criterion’s previous Blu-ray edition to hand, this 4K is notably an improvement over an already quality release. The colors really resonate, blacks are solid and deep (sometimes detail is lost in these environments on the old release), detail is truly impressive, offering glimpses of design and texture in the film’s costumes and sets you may have missed previously. It’s a verdant presentation of a film that gains so much from its rich visuals. Extra features are ported from the previous release, but are well worth your attention.
- Audio commentary by Gilliam: Packed with tidbits on the film itself (shooting stories and inspirations) as well as a sharing of the themes and ideas that went into crafting the film and the origins of its story. A very worthwhile commentary to add insight and appreciation
- What Is “Brazil”?: Rob Hedden’s on-set documentary: Around 30 minutes in length, it’s a general overview of the on-set production efforts
- The Production Notebook, a collection of interviews and video essays, featuring a trove of Brazil-iana from Gilliam’s personal collection: A treasure trove of materials including storyboards, photos, interviews with the crew, and segments on production and costume design
- The Battle of “Brazil,” a documentary about the film’s contentious release, hosted by Jack Mathews and based on his book of the same name: A juicy and compelling look into the battle between filmmaker and studio
- “Love Conquers All” version, the studio’s ninety-four-minute, happy-ending cut of Brazil, with commentary by Brazil expert David Morgan: If you’re into that sort of thing
- Trailer
- PLUS: An essay by film critic David Sterritt: Included in the liner notes
The Bottom Line
Brazil is stuffed with creativity, purpose, and heartbreak. Visually, narratively, and through it’s performances, it builds a a rich powder keg of storytelling that feels more prescient today than it did 40 years ago. A truly indelible experience, not just in terms of viewing, but it’s undeniable influence in cinema. Criterion’s 4K treatment of Gilliam’s finest is resplendent and demands your attention.
Brazil is available on 4K-UHD via Criterion now
