Terry Gilliam's "nightmare vision" is pretty nightmarish, in a funny Terry Gilliamish way. There's something humorous and mischievously entertaining about "Twelve Monkeys" that keeps it from taking itself too seriously and falling prey to pretention, but then it comes back at you just as intense and creepy as a movie can get. It keeps itself fresh and fluid, with a healthy dose of quirk to it. But I don't think it knows it's an apocalyptic vision.
The film is about James Cole, played by Bruce Willis, a man from the future who goes back in time to stop the disaster that sent him underground from ever happening. But that's the simple way of describing it. The story is in a constant fight as to where to go with the plot, with probably a dozen sub-ideas that could turn into something. It's twisted and elaborate and almost impossible to explain to someone without them saying "what?", but like "Memento" or "The Matrix", when you watch it, it makes sense. But these plot developements are delicious fodder and keep it moving, allowing characters like Brad Pitt's pitch perfect sort-of-insane "Jeffrey Bowen" to take a bow (deserved that Oscar nod, BTW).
The film's eccentricity takes hold of it. From the cinematography, to the accordian theme that playfully plays throughout the film, to the excessive production design that you know was made that way just because they felt like it (though it does help make the film what it is). And more often than not, the miserable conditions of Mr. Willis or whoever else may be feeling miserable at the time come across the screen in an almost tangible way.
But behind the running cinematic joke, and the dark atmosphere of the film, it drives itself home where it must, and Bruce Willis, surprisingly, performs in what is probably one of his best roles. There's a frusterating and pitiful scene when he is desperately trying to make psychiatrists in 1990 accept the fact that he's from the future. They don't buy it, and he realizes that on top of his original task, he now has to find some tedious way to make these people believe him. Teamed with the talented Madeleine Stowe, the duo help create a touching relationship that grounds the film, as it turns out, on a deep personal level.
The film doesn't necessarily scare you into thinking all this would happen in real life, we've heard it too much before, and I don't think that was the goal of the movie. But by the end of the film you've been given a healthy sense of dread for the poor characters in the film. How often does that happen? Though when they play the Louis Armstrong classic "Wonderful World" during the credits, it stamps and seals the irony of it all, and does exactly what Mr. Armstrong probably didn't intend the song to do in the first place.
The film is about James Cole, played by Bruce Willis, a man from the future who goes back in time to stop the disaster that sent him underground from ever happening. But that's the simple way of describing it. The story is in a constant fight as to where to go with the plot, with probably a dozen sub-ideas that could turn into something. It's twisted and elaborate and almost impossible to explain to someone without them saying "what?", but like "Memento" or "The Matrix", when you watch it, it makes sense. But these plot developements are delicious fodder and keep it moving, allowing characters like Brad Pitt's pitch perfect sort-of-insane "Jeffrey Bowen" to take a bow (deserved that Oscar nod, BTW).
The film's eccentricity takes hold of it. From the cinematography, to the accordian theme that playfully plays throughout the film, to the excessive production design that you know was made that way just because they felt like it (though it does help make the film what it is). And more often than not, the miserable conditions of Mr. Willis or whoever else may be feeling miserable at the time come across the screen in an almost tangible way.
But behind the running cinematic joke, and the dark atmosphere of the film, it drives itself home where it must, and Bruce Willis, surprisingly, performs in what is probably one of his best roles. There's a frusterating and pitiful scene when he is desperately trying to make psychiatrists in 1990 accept the fact that he's from the future. They don't buy it, and he realizes that on top of his original task, he now has to find some tedious way to make these people believe him. Teamed with the talented Madeleine Stowe, the duo help create a touching relationship that grounds the film, as it turns out, on a deep personal level.
The film doesn't necessarily scare you into thinking all this would happen in real life, we've heard it too much before, and I don't think that was the goal of the movie. But by the end of the film you've been given a healthy sense of dread for the poor characters in the film. How often does that happen? Though when they play the Louis Armstrong classic "Wonderful World" during the credits, it stamps and seals the irony of it all, and does exactly what Mr. Armstrong probably didn't intend the song to do in the first place.