IN THIS ULTIMATE RETREAD DECADE, when movie people are so short on ideas that they remake old TV shows and bad French comedies, give Terry Gilliam points for trying something completely different. When the former Monty Python animator does a remake, it’s of the moodiest, most elliptical sci-fi film ever: Chris Marker’s 1963 La Jetee. Set in a toxic future, this French collage of photos chases time backward to a painful childhood image. Gilliam’s 12 Monkeys is an all-star, megamovie elaboration of this theme–just what you’d expect from the director of that brilliant dark-side retro-futuristic vision, Brazil.
The movie, written by David and Janet Peoples, begins in the year 2035. Most of the world has been killed by a virus that broke out in 1997. Cole (Bruce Willis) is sent back in time to find out what went wrong. Landing in a loony bin, he is aided by a nice doctor (Madeleine Stowe) and beset by a canny inmate (Brad Pitt, in a funny turn full of wild hand gestures, as if shaking off imaginary water). Can Cole fulfill his mission and save the planet?
Is it worth saving? Dour sci-fi satire always has this message: I have seen the future, and it sucks. In this teeming hellhole (lots of clatter and clutter), madmen get the best lines, and a heroic time traveler hardly stands a chance. Intent on both dazzling and punishing the viewer, Gilliam gets lost in creepy spectacle and plenty of old film clips (notably Vertigo). But at the sight of three giraffes crossing a city bridge, you’ll think of a more recent movie. A bad one. In its frantic mix of chaos, carnage and zoo animals, 12 Monkeys is Jumanji for adults.
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