The Fisher King
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Synopsis
A fairy tale grounded in poignant reality, Terry Gilliam’s magnificent, Manhattan-set The Fisher King features Jeff Bridges and Robin Williams in two of their most brilliant roles. Bridges plays a former radio shock jock reconstructing his life after a scandal, and Williams a homeless man on a quest for the Holy Grail—which he believes to be hidden somewhere on the Upper East Side. Unknowingly linked by their pasts, the two men aid each other on a fanciful journey toward their own humanity. This singular American odyssey features a witty script by Richard LaGravenese, evocative cinematography by Roger Pratt, and superb supporting performances by Amanda Plummer and an Oscar-winning Mercedes Ruehl, all harnessed by Gilliam into a compassionate, funny modern-day myth.
Picture 9/10
Terry Gilliam’s The Fisher King comes to 4K UHD through The Criterion Collection and is presented on a triple-layer disc in its original aspect ratio of 1.85:1. The 2160p/24hz ultra high-definition presentation is provided with Dolby Vision (HDR10 compatible) and sourced from a new 4K restoration taken from a scan of the 35mm original negative. Criterion also includes a standard dual-layer Blu-ray disc containing the special features alongside a 1080p presentation of the film. This disc replicates Criterion’s 2015 disc, which uses the older master sourced from a 2K restoration and is presented in the ratio of 1.78:1.
The original Blu-ray presentation, despite utilizing an older master, didn’t look too bad when all was said and done, but it was open for improvement. Still, despite knowing a fresh, new scan would open the picture up and clean up several areas, I was caught off guard by just how much of an enhancement would be afforded by such an endeavor, the results here looking astonishing.
Right off, the image is substantially cleaner, appearing far sharper with more detail. Close-ups, particularly of Williams' dirty, bearded face, expose an astonishing level of finer details and textures that are nowhere near as evident in the old high-def presentation, with long shots of the New York setting doing the same. Smoke, fog, and mist (which there is a lot of) are rendered in a cleaner, more natural-looking manner, the gradients smoothly blending, with HDR and Dolby Vision almost surely aiding in that area. Film grain is more prominent, and I thought the encode looked natural enough, even with Dolby Vision or HDR switched off; I can't say it ever came off noisy on my television in a similar manner to what Munchausen did. And though there are a lot of grays and browns in the film, the colors still manage to pop, but the range in reds found in The Red Knight is where this aspect is most impressive.
Dolby Vision and HDR are effectively employed, immediately and beautifully enhancing the highlights in the opening recording studio sequence, with the light bouncing off Bridges' face and microphone. It also helps in rendering details in the shadows of that same scene and the shadows in the film's many darker sequences, like the ones in Williams' living space, the night club flashback, the nighttime Central Park scenes, or the darkened "heist" close to the end of the film. As mentioned, it also helps render smoke and fog and the light going through, the shot capturing Williams' initial appearance in a gorgeous silhouette. I also found that the wider contrast provided here allows sequences like the one in the Chinese restaurant to deliver a brilliant new vibrancy that has never been present on home video before. That scene could look a little washed before this, but the deeper blacks and range in the colors, especially those reds, make the whole sequence pop now.
The restoration work has also been thorough, with no significant damage remaining. However, this also holds for the older high-def presentation. Considering the film is one of Gilliam's more laid-back films, I wasn't expecting much from it, but this looks exceptional.
(Due to technical issues, screen captures could only be taken from the first 41 minutes of the film. Also, a shot in the video store that looked to be incorrectly framed on the old Blu-ray, as though the right side had been shifted over, appears to have been fixed here.)
Audio 8/10
The film, yet again, comes with a 5.1 surround soundtrack presented in DTS-HD MA. The disc does not feature the original 2-channel surround soundtrack. The audio has also been newly restored for the 4K presentation, though I'll be honest and say I didn't notice much of a difference. That's not to say there isn't one; I'm just terrible when it comes to subtle differences between audio tracks. Still, I found the presentation to sound very sharp, and I do feel the range sounds a little wider, as evident through Williams’ many hyper deliveries. Surrounds are put to good use through the score, some of the film’s more fantastical and action-centric sequences (like those around the Red Knight), and the more chaotic and busy settings (the hospital, the homeless camp, Grand Central Station, and such), all with a distinct direction and fantastic, subtle use of the lower frequency. Dialogue is clear (mostly), and fidelity is excellent.
Again, a solid presentation that is more than suited for the film.
Extras 9/10
Most of the supplements are housed on the second disc, a standard dual-layer Blu-ray that also contains a high-def presentation of the film. The disc is an exact port of Criterion's previous Blu-ray, meaning that it also uses the older restoration on top of including all features from that release.
The 4K UHD only features one supplement, Terry GIlliam's original audio commentary for the film, recorded 30 years ago for Criterion's LaserDisc release. Gilliam starts by talking about how this film breaks his own rules: it’s a for-hire studio film, it was made in the States, and it was from someone else’s script. Though other features explain that the producers had to work hard to get Gilliam to do the film, where he says he had no issue breaking his rules after the stressful experience of The Adventures of Baron Munchausen: he wanted something where he could show he could still do a small movie like this. It also doesn’t hurt that he fell in love with the script. Gilliam explains how he tried to restrain himself here (other features found on the disc reveal that others had to work to convince him to go ahead with some of his fantastical ideas). Still, as he goes on in the commentary, you realize it was hard for him to do since he was putting so much thought into every facet of the film, whether he meant to or not, from the creation of the set for Jack’s studio to Jack’s apartment to the video store, the costumes, the Grand Central scene (which was made up while scouting and was not part of the script) and so on. He talks about the performances, praising Mercedes Ruehl (who wouldn’t have yet won her Oscar when this was recorded) and expressing his joy at working with Robin Williams and Jeff Bridges, Bridges making all the women "swoon" just by standing on set (this is another fact spouted out regularly throughout the features). He does get a little self-congratulatory when he mentions how this film would have turned out if another filmmaker had made it (it would have been straightforward and dull, he feels, though adequate), but I had to admit he’s probably right. With a few amusing and bizarre anecdotes tacked on (the studio execs were scared Williams was too hairy, for example) and Gilliam’s usual flair, it’s an incredibly entertaining and informative track, and I’m glad it finally broke free of the old LaserDisc edition.
The standard Blu-ray also features the commentary along with all of the release's video features. These start with five deleted scenes, also from the LaserDisc release. The scenes, running under 9 minutes total, all come from a work print and are presented with bookends from the finished film to give an idea of where the scene should be placed. The scenes are all pretty good, though you can see why Gilliam cut them, and he confirms as much in the optional commentary that plays with them. He cut scenes mainly from the beginning and end because he first needed to get the story going and feared the audience would become restless when they got to the home stretch. There’s also a scene showing how Jack finds out where Lydia works, which is somewhat skipped over in the film. There sounds to be more material that was cut, but it’s a good compilation here.
Criterion next includes several exclusive features going over the film’s production, the history of which turns out to be quite surprising. Gilliam talks about the production to an extent in the commentary, but it appears he omitted many details. Most of Gilliam’s films run into production problems, setbacks, and screaming executives. Yet, I always figured that since this was a for-hire job for the director, this was probably one of the easier-going films for him, yet this wasn’t the case. It turns out it was through no fault of his own, though, as it was facing issues well before he became involved.
The film’s production is covered rather extensively in two exclusive featurettes: The Fool and the Wounded King and The Real and the Fantastical, running 30 minutes and 31 minutes, respectively, with the option of being played together or separately. Fool focuses mainly on the surprisingly long history of simply getting the film off the ground and features interviews with Gilliam, screenwriter Richard LaGravenese, producer Lynda Obst, and actors Jeff Bridges, Mercedes Ruehl, and Amanda Plummer. LaGravenese talks a bit about the various drafts of the screenplay (which sound entirely different from one another) and what influenced him to write the story, and then we move to Obst, who talks about coming across the script and immediately buying it (well, she forced her boss to buy it for her). From here, the film got stuck in a development Hell for years, with Disney first holding the project. The execs proved especially difficult and wanted to change the script to make it more commercial. At one point LaGravenese was asked to rewrite Parry’s role for Richard Pryor and capture the “black experience” of being homeless, which LaGravenese was uncomfortable doing since he had no idea how to capture that experience appropriately. Eventually, the script was sold to Tri-Star, yet the nightmare continued as they tried to assign “terrible” directors (according to Obst) to the film. Relief only came when James Cameron (yes, that James Cameron) expressed interest in directing. Though Obst knew it wouldn’t pan out (The Abyss was eating up too much of his time), she used it to keep Tri-Star from fast-forwarding the project until they got the right director. Thankfully for everyone, they convinced Gilliam to do it, feeling he was perfect. Not surprisingly, studio execs were fighting to keep him off after Baron Munchausen.
I found all of this rather fascinating, but the story continues with Fantastical, which picks up when Gilliam joins the production, moving on to the casting process. Interestingly there was the idea at the studio that this would be a Robin Williams/Billy Crystal vehicle, which Gilliam resisted. Though he was okay with Williams, he was picturing more of a Jack Nicholson type in the Jack role. It was when he saw The Fabulous Baker Boys that Jeff Bridges became a possibility in his mind. Everyone talks about working with Robin Williams and the energy he brought to the production. Bridges, holding back tears, recounts the exact moment when he realized Williams was a genuine actor and not just a comedian as he thought first going in. Thrown into the mix are some amusing anecdotes about filming in New York, where the residents were rarely pleased in having their daily routines interrupted, even mildly, by filming, which caused a few setbacks and interesting encounters.
Though its production history is mild compared to Gilliam’s other films, I still found it all intriguing, and Criterion has assembled an engaging account.
Following this is The Tale of the Red Knight, a 23-minute presentation featuring artists Keith Greco and Vincent Jefferds rooting through some of their old prototypes and designs for the Red Knight, recalling the rather grueling and stressful period. They talk about their pitch meeting to get the job (which doesn’t sound to have gone well yet they got the job) and then go over the many difficulties they ran into creating the knight and the various fire effects that needed to be used, admitting that nowadays it would all probably be done with CGI. The job was particularly stressful because the knight became incredibly important for the director, more than likely because it was the most overtly fantastical element of the film. When they were brought on to do the work, this aspect of the film was already far behind in the timeline, so they felt the crunch. It’s another intriguing and somewhat surprising aspect of the film’s production, and, mixed with some test footage of the Red Knight in action, makes it another worthwhile inclusion for those curious about the film’s production.
Jeff’s Tale is a 12-minute interview with Jeff Bridges, who goes over some photos he took on set with his “trusty Widelux camera,” something he has done on most, if not all, of his films (if you can track it down, Bridges talks to Conan O’Brien about an amusing prank played on him while he was taking pictures on the set of The Big Lebowski—currently it can be found here). For 12 minutes, he goes through several of them, providing backstories to each image and talking about the people that appear in them, even getting somewhat sidetracked when he talks about Michael Jeter. A much more personal presentation than a standard photo gallery, with Bridges in full “Dude” mode.
Following on from that are Jeff and Jack, about Bridges’ preparation for becoming a shock jock, working with acting coach Stephen Bridgewater. There were hours and hours of sessions recorded, and Criterion compiles that footage here, showing Bridges built up his confidence and skill. There’s a lot of improvisation here, and some of the material even made its way in one form or another into the film—another fascinating little aspect of the film’s production.
Criterion then provides an interview with Robin Williams under Robin’s Tale. The interview was recorded in 2006, and it appears it was intended for a possible special edition of the film to be released by Sony, though I’m guessing it was abandoned since we never saw it. It’s a funny but informative interview as Williams talks about what drew him to the project and how much he loved working with Gilliam (he claims he just loved making Gilliam laugh since he has what he considers a great laugh, which we get samples of here). He covers various sequences and expands on some of the issues they ran into with locals that were hinted at in other features. I was a little surprised Criterion didn't include more about Williams since these supplements were being put together just after his death, though maybe they felt it inappropriate. But they present a compilation of outtakes featuring Williams on set, which appears after the credits of this feature, working as a loving tribute.
Also carried over from the LaserDisc is 3-minutes' worth of costume tests, simply featuring the actors trying out their costumes. The disc then closes with almost 10 minutes of theatrical trailers: three domestic and two international.
This release then comes with one of Criterion's large foldout inserts featuring an essay on the film by Bilge Eberi, who talks about how this film differs from Gilliam's other works (it's more of a crowd-pleaser and has more modern stylistic choices) though still features his unique touches (skewed camera angles, fantasy touches, and so forth).
Though the supplements yet again lack anything scholarly, the supplements are still all rather good, giving a rich and detailed look into the making of the film.
Closing
No new supplements, but the new video presentation delivers a lovely-looking upgrade over Criterion's previous high-def release.
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