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Ambitious enough for several films, and sometimes it feels like three of them stitched together at times, The Fisher King may just be Terry Gilliam’s greatest film, Brazil is a strong(er) contender in my opinion. The Fisher King gives us so much to consider: the homeless, mental illness, redemption, Arthurian legend, show-biz, two love affairs, comedy. Somehow, I found it all working together and emerging as a unique, moving experience, with solid performances from the four major leads – Jeff Bridges, Mercedes Ruehl, Amanda Plummer, and Robin Williams, towering above them all with his beautiful and intricate work.
The Fisher King tells of the story of Jeff Bridges’ shock-jock radio personality who discovers one day that a listener has gone on a shooting spree, apparently taking his braggadocio to heart. Utterly devastated by the events, he quits his job, and finds himself living with Ruehl and working in her video rental store. Along the way he meets Williams, a homeless man, who is the key to his redemption. But first, Bridges and Ruehl trying to get Williams’ life back on track and set him up with Plummer, the woman he has been lusting after from afar for a while now.
Whew! That’s only the half of it. We haven’t even covered Williams’ tragic past, how it intersects with Bridges, or how his character is obsessed with the Holy Grail and believes it to be located in the mansion of a Manhattan gazillionaire. Or how he recruits Bridges to try and help him steal it. Or even the tortured hallucinations that he frequently lapses into. The Fisher King is overflowing with plot and character development, but it is also a (mostly) hilarious ride and enchanting to the last. It’s dramatic moments are hard-earned, and any bit of emotional movement and uplift we feel is made the better because these characters are battle-scarred and deserve a happy moment.
While Bridges and Plummer deliver typically strong work, the film truly belongs to the performances of Ruehl and Williams. Mercedes Ruehl, at the time, was the go-to character actress for strong, tough-talking dames. Her work here has that element on the surface, but there’s also a tragic underside to her character, a woman in dire need of love and acceptance, and not finding it in her chosen partner. There’s a scene in which her character begins to crack up, talking to herself, alternating between laughter and tears, growing resentful of Bridges standing her up and disappointing her once more. It’s a lovely piece of work in a rich performance, and probably the scene that helped nab her every imaginable Supporting Actress award that year.
Yet it’s Williams as the homeless Parry who lingers longest in the mind. It’s often been said that the best performances have something of the performers truth in them. It would be simple to write off The Fisher King’s strong work as something so simple in the wake of Williams’ suicide, but his manic impressions and damaged core ring truer than most of the soulful comics he played in films like Good Morning, Vietnam and Dead Poets Society. It’s not right to compare actors to their characters, but sometimes a performer and a role meet and a little bit of the real person spills out into the one that they’re constructing. That could easily be the case here. A scene where Williams experiences happiness, gets frightened, and runs from the flaming Red Knight (the film’s literal manifestation of his mental illness and trauma), only to encounter three men ready to beat him up only to thank them feels dreadfully resonant and real in the wake of real life events, more so than it would originally have. Williams was nominated for, but lost, the Oscar that year, and while he went on to win one for his equally great work in Good Will Hunting, I feel as if his work here is the true mark to his brilliance as an actor. The role allows him to fluctuate between comedy and drama seamlessly, reigning in some of his manic tendencies when necessary, and letting him off the leash in service of the role when necessary.
