Art imitates Life imitates Art…

A beautiful opening paragraph from a review of one of my favorite movies, Brazil:

In Brazil, Terry Gilliam asks the audience to imagine a world where the government wages a never-ending war with shadowy terrorists, a world where civil liberties are being destroyed in the name of security, a world where torture becomes official state policy in order to conduct more efficient interrogations of suspected terrorists. What’s more, in Gilliam’s fictional world, the central government is not just secretive but incompetent. Mistakes are made, leading to the imprisonment and torture of innocents. Most offensive of all, Gilliam implies that such a government could exist without its citizens staging an armed revolt. I’m usually willing to suspend disbelief, but this goes too entirely too far.

Exterminate all rational thought.

Mike posted about joining up with NetFlix, and his list of upcoming movies included Brazil and Time Bandits, both wonderfully bizarre films directed by Terry Gilliam. I dropped him a quick note to recommend a few other flicks, which touched off a discovery of something that I’ve been waiting years for.

Back in “tha day” when videotapes were the medium of choice for movies (if you couldn’t afford a LaserDisc player), I had what I fondly referred to as my “mindfuck movies” tape. Three films, all favorites of mine, each of which were quite bizarre.

First up was Brazil, Terry Gilliam’s surrealistic dystopian satire of bureaucracy and the power of human dreams. Gilliam has long been one of my favorite directors, and Brazil is probably my favorite of the movies that he’s done to date, with its black humor, astounding and at times Giger-esque visuals, and absolutely stellar cast (Jonathan Pryce, Robert DeNiro, Michael Palin, Katherine Helmond, Ian Holm, and Bob Hoskins).

Next up was Closet Land, a powerful look at interrogation, abuse, and governmental power. Sponsored by Amnesty International, the film tells the story of a children’s book author who is abducted and interrogated about suspected anti-governmental themes and messages hidden in her books. Virtually the entire film takes place in a single room, with only two characters: the author (Madeline Stowe) and her interrogator (Alan Rickman). An incredibly powerful film (and, unfortunately, one that is out of print on VHS and not released on DVD yet).

Last on the tape was David Cronenberg‘s incredible visualization of William S. Burroughs‘ ‘unfilmable’ book Naked Lunch. Written in Tangiers under the influence of quite a few different drugs (heroin being a primary influence), the semi-autobiographical novel has fascinated me since the first time I read it.

From Amazon’s review:

Burroughs wrote Naked Lunch in a Tangier, Morocco, hotel room between 1954 and 1957. Allen Ginsberg and his beatnik cronies burst onto the scene, rescued the manuscript from the food-encrusted floor, and introduced some order to the pages. It was published in Paris in 1959 by the notorious Olympia Press and in the U.S. in 1962; the landmark obscenity trial that ensued served to end literary censorship in America.

Burroughs’s literary experiment–the much-touted “cut-up” technique–mirrored the workings of a junkie’s brain. But it was junk coupled with vision: Burroughs makes teeming amalgam of allegory, sci-fi, and non-linear narration, all wrapped in a blend of humor–slapstick, Swiftian, slang-infested humor. What is Naked Lunch about? People turn into blobs amidst the sort of evil that R. Crumb, in the decades to come, would inimitably flesh out with his dark and creepy cartoon images. Perhaps the most easily grasped part of Naked Lunch is its America-bashing, replete with slang and vitriol. Read it and see for yourself.

Cronenberg managed to take the book and craft an equally twisted film out of it, putting Peter Weller in the lead in a hilariously deadpan performance as Burroughs’ fictional counterpart, Bill Lee. Also appearing is one of my favorite B-list actors, Julian Sands (who, if I may digress for a moment, really should have been cast as Lestat in the film adaptation of Anne Rice‘s Interview With the Vampire).

Since that videotape is long-dead, I’ve wanted to collect all the films on DVD for years now. Brazil was issued on DVD quite a while ago, but every time I’ve checked, neither Closet Land nor Naked Lunch were available — until tonight. Closet Land is still out of print, but Naked Lunch has finally been released (a year ago, apparently)! No wish-listing, waiting, or debating over that one — it’s been purchased, and should be in my mailbox sometime next week.

I am so stoked about this.

iTunesDazzle” by Siouxsie and the Banshees from the album Twice Upon A Time: The Singles (1984, 5:30).