The Brother's Grimm will always be tied in my mind with director Terry Gilliams's 2002 documentary Lost In Lamancha. The fascinating documentary chronicled the hundreds of little things that can go from problems to obstacles to insurmountable barriers, during the film making process. While trying to bring his vision of Man of Lamancha to the screen, it was as if the gods themselves had conspired to thwart his dream and the project was ultimately aborted.

On the face of it The Brother's Grimm would appear the perfect project for the ex-Monty Python man's skewed vision. Still one can only imagine the gulf between the film Gilliam must have at some point envisioned and the one that wound up in theaters. Though the film is hopelessly mediocre and never once finds it's footing, there are glimpses of Gilliam's brilliance, his visual flair - unfortuantely they are lost within this monumental misfire.

The film starts off with a fair amount of promise, as Matt Damon and Heath Ledger playing the titular brothers are exposed as a couple of con men. Preying on the superstitions of the age, they show up in a town that is being terrorized by a wicked witch (for example) they call a tribunal of the townsfolk and size-up just how much of an extortionate price they can command for their services. Using at least one of the townspeople as a mark, they concoct a reuse - an elaborate phoney set-up complete with a harrowing life or death struggle between good and evil. Naturally the brothers ultimately prevail, and once victorious over whatever bain had been plaguing the village, they stick around for a spirited celebration, buy a few rounds with their fee money, and take advantage of their celebrity by bedding down with a local maiden or two. So far so good.

The film is set at the time of Napoleon's reign in French occupied Germany. Once the M.O. of the brothers had been established, they are right away apprehended and taken into custody by a very Gilliam-esque General played by long-time stalwart Jonathan Pryce. He plays an eccentric fop who, due to his isolation, has become a dimented despot obsessed with torture and a number of other kinky interests. It seems Pryce's region is being threatened by some sort of "alleged" supernatural tomfoolery. A remote village surrounded by a seriously haunted forest, crowded with all kind of dark and gloomy slitherings, not to mention witches, werewolves and the attendant missing girls, etc.) Thus Pryce snatches the Brothers and after a taste of his torturous hobby (the dungeon is a fun little nod to Monty Python) they agree to uncover "whom" or "what"ever is behind all this troublesome business. They are put under the supervision of a loyal but unstable and self-serving henchman named Lieutenant Cavaldi (Peter Stormare). Stormare is one of those actors who is either superb in a role (Fargo) or just completely awful (8 mm). Here he starts off annoying, but then becomes likable and amusing once he casts aside his loyalties in the final act.

At this point the film still holds out a fair amount of promise, but once they reach the village and begin their exploration of the haunted forest the film begins to spiral out of control and never really gets back on any kind of solid ground. It should be made abundantly clear that Gilliam is by no means making any effort at accurately representing the lives of the famous Fairy Tale scribes, or even an artistically licensed portrayal of their lives and careers. This is pure fantasy, which allows Gilliam to make of these two characters and this story what he will. Most of it makes about as much sense as the poem that The Brothers Grimm resembles. "Twas brillig, and the slithy toves. Did gyre and gimble in the wabe: All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe" The forest that the brothers must enter and explore reminded me of Lewis Carrol's Jabberwocky.

Though both brothers are generally painted as cowardly, stumbling incompetents, Will (Damon) is the more business minded and down to earth, able to turn on the charm if needs be and Jake (Ledger) his head in the clouds, blunders through their adventures, chronicling their exploits as well as many of the stories and folklore that spills from the mouthes of the peasants with whom they come in contact. Suggesting that even as writers they were, to some extent, con-men. Juxtaposed with the narrative of the film, are exerpts from some of Grimms more famous Fairy Tales, (Hansel and Gretel, Little Red Riding Hood, Cinderella, The Gingerbread Man). Some of these inserted sequences either run with the story or foreshadow it, but if you could point to one sequence that really distinquishes The Brother's Grimm as a pretty grim bit of film making it's the Gingerbread man scene. You wonder if Gilliam wasn't banking on Gingerbread man bits being foolproof after the bellylaugh that it fetched in Shrek. I guess I'm just trying to find the "black box" in hopes of finding some explanation for such a plane crash of a film. Whoever edited the film needs a good smack upside the head for leaving that bit of undeniable garbage in the film.

Considering that a writer with a track record like Ehren Kreuger (The Ring, Skeleton Key) it's a surprise that he couldn't have spun a few good scares and a little bit of effectively spooky story telling into such a ripe premise. Though he's far from being the only culpable member of the creative force behind the film, he has to own much of it.

The brothers share a love interest in the form of "the trapper" (Lena Headey) a rather comely resident of the doomed village who is the only survivng member of a family who have all been claimed by the black magic in the heart of the mysterious castle that grows in the center of the forest like a giant tree. Headey's performance is actually pretty solid and without checking imdb I couldn't tell you any other films she's been in. It is for the cause of the love she has inspired in the brothers that they repeatedly journey into the woods where trees move about on their own power, with roots that crawl, slink and grasp at one's ankles and have been known to suck expendable cast members into the tree's trunk. I'd be willing to bet that The Brother's Grimm has set a mark for the most crows in a single film - a record that will never be threatened. The forest is literally crawling with critters, poisonous spiders, not to mention a Werewolf with martial art skills.

The film comes to a Fairy Tale resolution that fuses Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty (minus the magic) with occult and Biblical allusions. It seems the missing girls have been collected in order to restore the life, youth and beauty of the Mirror Queen (Monica Bellucci) who's at the heart of the evil of the region. Headey is to be the twelfth and final sacrificial girl that along with an eclipse completes the spell that will re-animate the dormant Queen and restore her evil powers to their former glory. Will the brothers prevail and allow for all to live happily ever after? Trust me, you won't care, at this point you'll just be happy that you'll soon be able to go home. You'd almost have to be in the best mood of your life to walk out of the Brothers Grimm satisfied.

The Brother's Grimm is a classic example of a film that can't decide what it wants to be. More than anything it plays as a comedy, but not always intentially, the parts of the film that are supposed to be scary are completely undermined by all the slapstick and dumb-guy humor, clumsy cgi and if Gilliam wanted romance to develop between any of the three leads, you'd never know it. Which leaves only the story to drive this sloppy jalopy to the finish line. With a plot this meandersome and muddled the only place it's going to be driving is off into the trees. I'm sure at some point there must have been someone jumping up and down at the prospect of Gilliam directing a film written by Krueger about such midieval madness. Too bad it ran so far afield in it's execution. Oh brother where's thou art?