TIME BANDITS
David Rappaport, Craig Warnock, Tiny Ross, Kenny Baker,
Sean Connery, David Warner, Ralph Richardson
Directed By Terry Gilliam
Handmade Films
Does anybody else remember when children's films talked to the viewer, rather than at them?
Time Bandits is the story of Kevin, a bright young lad from Suburbia, whose parents care more about game shows and the latest shiny gadgets than they do about listening to their son.
Kevin retreats into his imagination - and his bedroom (which, for a lonely little boy, is much the same thing) - only to discover that all his dreams of adventure and mighty heroes can come true.
Taken on a journey across the space-time continuum by a gang of disgruntled shrubbers, Kevin gets to meet his heroes, including Agamemnon and Robin Hood (played to patrician perfection by John Cleese), while fighting ogres, giants, minotaurs and the spirit of Evil, and helping his new friends stay one step ahead of their boss - God.
Time Bandits highlights everything that's wrong with modern children's cinema: it's bleak, savagely funny, occasionally cruel, and frequently surreal.
When was the last time you could say anything like that about a children's movie? A British children's movie?
(those of you who said "Harry Potter": go to the foot of the class.)
Visually, Time Bandits is what you might charitably call a "smorgasbord:" Aside from the constant change of scene - from Ancient Greece to 20th Century England - the characters themselves are a mish-mash of design. The Bandits utilise everything from Biggles helmets to colanders for their costumes; Evil wraps his henchmen in the same plastic that Kevin's parents use on their sofa, while wearing Giger's Facehugger as a hat.
The overall effect is something between a collage and a bloody mess, which is appropriate enough. There are strong indications throughout the film that the whole story is nothing more than Kevin's imagination run riot. The question is left open enough to be charmingly paradoxical.
The story, by Terry Gilliam and Michael Palin, is very much like Gilliam's later film Brazil (echoes of which can be seen in some of the unfilmed scenes, discussed on the DVD). Both films have something to say about the soul-crushing danger of mundanity, and how it needs to be set free, once in a while. Time Bandits, like Brazil, is a testament to the power of imagination.
And by filming it at a child's eye-height, not just out of practical considerations (none of the lead actors are over 4'6"), but out of a desire to not talk down to the audience, Gilliam reinforces the theme of respect for a child's point of view that runs throughout the film.
The acting is first-rate: amazingly, Sean Connery manages to not steal the show, instead coming across as an avuncular Greek king. David Warner is nicely sinister as Evil Incarnate, and Sir Ralph Richardson, that stately old figure, is a headmasterly Supreme Being.
The real stars of the film, of course, are Kevin and the Bandits. Craig Warnock is strong and very natural in the role of Kevin, a sort of diminutive Arthur Dent. The Bandits are superb, of course: David Rappaport is hilarious as the Bandits (non)leader, and Kenny Baker (hardly recognizable out of his tin can) is on fine form. The banter between the Bandits is one of the most important elements of the film, beyond and above the supporting cast. The group has a casual manner with each other, the product of long working relationships between the cast, which drives the humour and is at the heart of making the characters sympathetic.
Charming, visually rich, and occasionally bleak, Time Bandits is a priceless childhood daydream. Like all of Terry Gilliam's films, it stands the test of time, unlike the majority of films in the genre. It's a fantastic tale, and almost makes me wish I had kids of my own, to share it with.
Review text (C) Matthew Craig
Originally published in the pop culture magazine Robot Fist