Terry Gilliams Exploration of Truth, Redemption, and Medievalism in The Fisher King

The Middle Ages are period riddled with ambivalence, leaving us to infer what we can from historical documents, myths, and legend. It is a period that carries the heavy burden of misguided preconceptions and perpetuated stereotypes that have been personified and perpetuated in literature, theatre, film, and art. Most of us tend to distance ourselves from the ideals and practices of European medieval civilization, for it is presumably a time strictly illustrative of hardship, famine, stratification, and hypocrisy.

But despite our desire to alienate ourselves from the past, medievalism is something that surfaces throughout human civilization time and time again. The morality, conveyance of human struggle, and myth of medieval literature and lore are all facets that emerge in contemporary art forms, specifically in this case, film. Since the advent of the moving image, filmmakers have used the Middle Ages as a vehicle or pretext for constructing their stories regardless of the relevance the respective tale being conveyed may have with medievalism.

In 1991 Terry Gilliam presented audiences with The Fisher King, and brought to the fold yet another interpretation of one of the most celebrated and prolific medieval myths throughout all of human history: the Holy Grail (Stemming from Arthurian romance and legend). "There are few Legends which may be said to stand forth among the innumerable Traditions of humanity, wearing the external signs and characters of some inward Secret or Mystery which belongs rather to eternity than to time" (Waite, 17). The Grail and the legend(s) surrounding it is perhaps one of the most fascinating yet elusive tales to come out of all literature. Since the late 12th century, with the prolific and timeless writings of Chretien De Troyes, the tale itself has seen immense proliferation throughout all forms of media.

Many of the interpretations dealing with the subject of the divine object have sought to explain the myth and shed light on the ambivalence surrounding it. By setting the story within contemporary New York City, Gilliam is successful in not only reinventing the myth so as to appeal to an easily distracted society, but he also succeeds in extracting the crux of the morality and inherent intentions that is the Holy Grail. However, to fully understand the film, one must trace these moralities back to the origins of the legend. The success of The Fisher King as a film is determinate upon the historical accuracies or inaccuracies that play out on the screen.

The invaluable writings of Umberto Eco surface on multiple occasions during the duration of Gilliam's film. The ideas that the authors propose are most certainly applicable in the case of Parry and Jack's quest through the contemporary hell that New York poses for the two. Eco argues that the resurgence of medievalism is not subtle, for "if one does not trust 'literature', one should at least trust pop culture" (Eco, 61-62). The fetish with medievalism is not only apparent in Gilliam's film, it is made malleable by the filmmakers. The Fisher King is set in New York City amongst "such postmodern neomedieval Manhattan new castles as the Citicorp Center and Trump Tower…with their courts open to peasants and merchants and the well-protected high-level apartments reserved for the lords" (Eco, 62).

This theory posed by Eco is most certainly applicable to the manifestation of medievalism in The Fisher King. The characters in the film, most specifically the homeless ones, wander within the shadows of the towering structures, which is indicative of the failings of capitalism. Jack Lucas, the film's protagonist, is set upon the pedestal of success, whereas his counterpart Parry is feeding off the waste of the rich and powerful (Both characters and their inherent circumstances will be discussed in later sections of this paper). This in itself is a perfect commentary on medievalism and how the once thought extinct manner of living is alive and well in contemporary societies.

Why is it that medievalism surfaces in the most unlikely of all mediums, in this case a film about a radio talk show host and a homeless man? Eco argues that "Our return to the Middle Ages means looking at our infancy, in the same way that a doctor, to understand our present state of health, asks us about our childhood…" (Eco, 65). The Middle Ages house the roots of our existence. Stories and legends like the Holy Grail bear weight not only in their contemporaneous period of creation, but throughout all of human history.

To look at the past critically is to look into or reflect upon the goals of humanity and the bounds or limitations of human understanding. Gilliam deliberately utilizes a medieval pretext in order to illustrate the failings of humanity, despite rapid progress, and to inspire hope via the morality that was set in stone so many years ago. To look more analytically at the methods of the filmmaker and the goal of the film, one must understand the inclusion of Grail Legend, and how Gilliam strives to make clear his commentary on society and the proverbial "norm".

The myth of the Grail is one that has seen constant attention throughout the history of western civilization and the world of Christendom. "No legend of the Middle Ages, except those endorsed by the Church, has had so strong an evocative and provocative power as the strange fictions which grew up about the Grail" (Loomis, 1). The history surrounding the Grail is extensive and emphatically important in dealing with the analysis of Gilliam's film. The film weaves together many of the important aspects of the legend in order to become the comprehensive work that the filmmaker achieves.

Though the film is set in a time period that is severely removed from the origins of the myth of the Grail, Gilliam is surprisingly successful in achieving a level of historical accuracy while conveying images of medieval symbolism in the contemporary setting.

Perhaps the most remarkably subtle and notable aspects of Gilliam's film are his inclusions of medieval imagery without blatant overt ness. The city of New York is transformed into "the unholy city" with its "harsh urban realities" (Ansen, 57). The production booth of the film's protagonist Jack Lucas is characteristic of a medieval dungeon with its flat gray and black walls and it's expressionistic shadow line imagery. The cigarette smoke that billows through Jack's broadcast space is reminiscent of the stereotypical misty medieval castle.

When Jack rides down the cluttered streets of New York in his jet-black limousine, his vessel is surrounded by taxicabs, indicative of the social stratification that was omnipresent during the middle Ages. In fact, one of the constant reoccurring themes throughout the film is illustration of the large gap between the homeless and their respective opposites, the bourgeois. The comparison between the moralities of the former groups is a keynote when analyzing the film and it's relation to the Grail, which will be touched on later in this analysis.

The legend of the Grail is seemingly ubiquitous. Regardless of a person's abundance of knowledge or lack thereof surrounding the phenomenon, almost anyone can tell you the gist of the myth. In a castle far, far away there lies the divine relic that holds the key to salvation and the healing tool of human suffering that comes with the burden of mankind's mortality. Emma Jung summed it up by stating, "A mysterious, life-preserving and sustenance dispensing object or vessel is guarded by a King in a castle that is difficult to find.

The King can only be restored to health if a knight of conspicuous excellence finds the castle and at the first sight of what he sees there asks a certain question…" (Jung, Von Franz 9). If the knight then fails in asking the question accurately, the mysterious castle will then disappear and the knight will have to resume his quest from the very beginning. One can draw parallels with this shortened outline of the legend of the Grail and the rough outline of The Fisher King.

The film's protagonist, Jack Lucas (Jeff Bridges), is an extremely successful deejay on a New York City talk radio show. Jack inadvertently prompts a regular caller to commence in a shooting spree at a downtown bar, and as a result spirals into a nearly inescapable maze of self-loathing, guilt, and depression. The caller, acting here as the King who oversees the grail, asks Jack a question concerning a local "yuppie" bar and the persons who frequent the establishment. Jack's advice, or answer to the caller is to simply ask yourself why you'd want to hang around with that ridiculous bunch of post-era Reaganites. The answer that Jack delivers is, in a sense incorrect.

The series of events that follow this call are what cause Jack's "castle" to simply disappear, leaving the once successful shock jock searching for what it was he once had and treasured so much. The question test, which is subtly constructed by Gilliam in the opening of the film, is one of the important hallmark characteristics of the Grail legend. Gilliam's inclusion of this facet is severely beneficial to the ultimate solidification of the myth the filmmaker aims to convey.

As a result of the shooting that Jack unintentionally inspired, he is jerked out of his narcissistic existence, only to encounter a mentally deranged homeless man, who views himself as a noble knight on the quest for the Holy Grail, named Parry (Robin Williams). Parry, a former educator, lives in the boiler room of a New York tenement building. His unsightly appearance and homely existence causes for a high level of uneasiness in Jack, a man who once valued physical appearance immensely, not to mention his materialistic lifestyle. Parry also happens to be the widower of a woman who was killed in the bar shootings performed by Jack's caller.

According to the legend of the Grail, the character Parry is a contemporary allegorical representation of the character Perceval, who does in fact play a crucial role in the legend of the Grail. "The story of young Perceval belongs to the world-wide fairytale theme of the simpleton, in which it is precisedly the youngest or most stupid brother who invariable accomplishes the great deed or gains the treasure hard to attain. Like so many fairy-tale heroes, Perceval grows up in a forest" (Jung, Von Franz 39). This fact surrounding the myth of the Grail is taken from the writings of Chretien, a medieval author who is responsible for many of the aspects of the Grail legend. In applying these ideas to Gilliam's film, one can't help but draw distinct parallels.
Parry is portrayed as a simpleton in the film, but not entirely in the same manner that Perceval is portrayed. Parry, being a homeless man, is part of the marginalized or the subjugated part of contemporary society.

He is metaphorically spit on by the persons in power, making it all the more difficult for Parry to break out of his stratified existence. But Parry possesses something more valuable than power or money, according to Gilliam's portrayal. Parry has the ability to appreciate his life and the lives of the other people around him. Parry loves and lives in a way in which Jack Lucas cannot understand, at least throughout the majority of the film. Parry personifies the last remaining hope for humanity in a world marauded by the illusionary appeasing facets of capitalism, consumerism, and the unattainable materialistic sense of happiness. Cleary Gilliam stretched the original morality of the scenario concerning Perceval, but the same moral guidelines are most certainly in place.

The allusion to Parry's connection to nature is seen during all sequences involving central park. The park stands as the only haven of natural existence amongst an industrialized and formidable modern city. This illustration of the natural connection Parry has with the park alludes to the universal tale of Perceval's early history in the myths surrounding the Grail. During one of these park excursions, Parry explains to Jack the story of "the Fisher King", and henceforth introduces the audience to the most important aspect of the Grail legend (for all respective purposes). Gilliam's adaptation of the Fisher King, voiced through Parry, mirrors the events that compose Jack Lucas's life.

Parry's rendition of the tale depicts a young King who adventures into the forest to prove his courage his family and prove his worth for royalty. He wanders into the woods to achieve his task, where he is greeted by a powerful vision of the grail, enshrouded in flame. The young Fisher King reaches for the grail, and it vanishes right before his very eyes. The King searches for the cup his whole life, but his wantonness and his lust for greed blind him from finding the object he so eagerly desires. Many years passed, and the miserable King sat ailing at his throne, with an insatiable thirst parching him. A young peasant man approached the King, and handed him a cup full of water. The King drank, and when his thirst was quenched, he felt revitalized and fully alive.

The Fisher King realized that the cup, which he held in his hands, was the Holy Grail, the object the man had sought ever since that solitary day in the wood. The King asked the peasant, "How did you know I sought this object?" The peasant simply replied, "I knew nothing of your desire for this cup. I only knew you were thirsty."

In the scene described previous, the filmmaker begins to treat the Grail not as a tangible object that the characters hope of one day attaining, but otherwise to be a way of living or a morality one must follow to achieve ultimate euphoria in life. This is perhaps the most important parallel that one might draw between what has been classified as the mythology of the Grail, and Gilliam's adaptation.

Another interesting inclusion in the film is the incorporation of the Red Knight. In terms of the myth, the Red Knight is yet another obstacle that stands in the way of young Perceval's destination. As Perceval approached King Arthur's residence, he encountered a Red Knight with a golden goblet in hand. The knight had stolen the cup from the table of the king, and now sought to challenge Arthur, using Perceval as his messenger. Infuriated, Perceval approached the King and requested he be knighted at once and given the ability to reclaim his dignity, as well as the king's. Arthur appeased the young boy and equipped him with the required tools to defeat the knight. Perceval confronted the malevolent warrior and challenged him to a fight. The knight responded with a powerful blow. Perceval delivered a fatal blow to the Red Knight by throwing a lance through his eye, killing him instantly (Jung, Von Franz 52).

The iconography of the Red Knight is entirely apparent, even in the ancient tale. The knight is clearly symbolic of lust, greed, and malevolence. His goal is to acquire more than one man alone can handle, all at the expense and the embarrassment of others. Perceval encounters the knight in order to achieve a greater understanding of his goal, and what is required of him if he is going to achieve it. The knight personifies all the emotion and human banality that he must abandon if he is going to prove his worth. The knight also encapsulates the feelings of chivalry for the era. By slaying the Red Knight, Perceval not only achieves respect from the king, but he also becomes the warrior. "…the knight embodies the image of the higher man as it was conceived in that age."

The inclusion of the Red Knight figure in The Fisher King serves a similar but albeit entirely different purpose. The image of the Red Knight in the film is ghastly, one that plagues the mind of Parry. The visions of the knight come only to Parry, causing great distress and confusion within the mind of Jack Lucas as the two men flee from something that isn't part of the normal plane of reality. Parry sees the knight when the two men move through Central Park, which as discussed earlier, is an incredibly important source of imagery for Gilliam in this work. The knight is foreboding and more or less the embodiment of fear. These scenes, though they most certainly do serve a purpose, are seemingly random and out of context.

As the film progresses and Parry's encounters become more and more violently neurotic, we learn that the Red Knight brings to Parry the harrowing images of the death of his wife, which as mentioned earlier, was the inadvertent result of Jack's reckless blather on air. When Parry sees the knight, he spirals into an uncontrollable realm of reckoning that ultimately causes him to slip into a mental trauma induced coma. But what do these images lead us to upon interpretation? What purpose does the inclusion of the Red Knight serve in this film? The answers to these questions lie in the fabric of the overall goal Gilliam aimed to achieve. The Red Knight, in this case, is meant to provide a challenge for Parry, one that is nearly unbeatable. Parry's ability to function "normally" has been ruptured, and no tourniquet was ever applied. Parry (Perceval) serves Jack (The Fisher King) by opening him up to the alternate train of thinking that ultimately allows Jack to return to his previous life. Jack does for Parry something entirely different.

The fact that Jack was slightly responsible for the murder of Parry's wife leads Parry to spiral into the states of neuroticism. In a sense, Parry must slay the Red Knight in order to return to functionality. However the slaying does not come in a literal sense, but simply by overcoming the inability to achieve reconciliation. The inclusion of the Red Knight is thus justified by the filmmaker as a materialization of the destructive mental statuses of many Americans. As a result the Red Knight is a subtle appropriation from the ancient text of Arthurian Legend, with a contemporary twist that only solidifies the credibility of the film.
Terry Gilliam has most certainly secured his title as a visionary and a filmmaker who tests the boundaries of the human mind, as well as the boundaries of the medium. In the case of The Fisher King, Gilliam was able to successfully fuse mythology within a contemporary tale of redemption, using the image of the Holy Grail as his vehicle.

The most astonishing things about the film are it's impetuous strides towards accuracy and inclusion of several important aspects surrounding the Legend of the Grail. The film offers us understanding on a level far deeper than the literal one that is attained when the surface is only scratched. The overall goal of the film is to encapsulate the morality that has enshrouded human existence for centuries, and to illustrate the applicability of ancient text to contemporary times. Surely the morality present in The Fisher King is not only inspiring, but provoking as well. Regardless of theory, Gilliam has left us yet again in awe, and "Dreaming of the Middle Ages."

Bibliography:
Ansen, David. The Holy Grail in the Unholy City. Newsweek 13 (1991) 57

Barber, Richard. The Holy Grail: Imagination and Belief. Cambridge, Massachusetts:
Harvard University Press, 2004.

Eco, Umberto. Travels in Hyperreality. San Diego: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1986.

The Fisher King. Tri-Star, 1991.

Jung, Emma and Marie-Louise Von Franz. The Grail Legend. New York: G.P. Putnam's
Sons, 1970.

Loomis, Roger Sherman. The Grail: From Celtic Myth to Christian Symbol. New York:
Columbia University Press, 1963.

Waite, Arthur Edward. The Holy Grail: The Galahad Quest in the Arthurian Literature.
New York: University Books, Date Unknown.