Allison Willmore noted on the IFC Blog that when she was walking out of her screening of The Brothers Grimm, she heard Rex Reed remark, "Who is that film for, exactly? Can someone tell me what kind of audience that film is for?" Funny, because that’s more or less what I wondered outloud whilst waiting for the elevator. Actually, I think my exact words were, “Why are films like this even made? And who are they expecting to show up on opening day?” These are not rhetorical questions, exactly – if you’ve got the answers, I’d honestly like to hear them – but they are certainly not queries for which I can give you a pithy bon mot right off the bat. I'm simply not sure.
As you’ve probably heard by now, Terry Gilliam’s latest had a hell of a time making its way off the Miramax shelf, and it might not ever have had it not been for the vault dump that’ll soon bring us long-anticipated shoulda-beens such as John Madden’s Proof and Lasse Hallstrom’s An Unfinished Life. I haven’t seen that curious pairing of diva and indie shepherd as of yet, but I have seen Proof, and whilst it's no masterpiece either, I can somewhat sadly report that it’s far more deserving of air than this soggy Gilliam dross. I won’t go as far as calling The Brothers Grimm a complete waste of celluloid, but I’ll say right off the bat that anyone with any sort of vice to speak of can come up with a better way to spend $10 and two hours this weekend. In fact, I’ll get the obvious pun out of the way right this instant: this is grim business.