After all the calamity (we almost expect a swarm of locusts next), causes the fiscal demise of the film, Gilliam sees it as a parable. Musing over the flood, the illness of his principal actor Jean Rochefort, and the other snafus, Gilliam sees it all as "the story of how reality won over Don Quixote." And he seeks solace in his storyboards, as he draws a cartoony Don Quixote shot through with bullets by the windmills/giants that are to remain fully dimensional only in Gilliam's head. Gilliam's adaptation of Cervantes, if it were ever finished, could be called Reality Killed Don Quixote. This is a fiasco picture that rivals none.
"A sinister cabal of superior writers."








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