Salute Your Shorts: Terry Gilliam’s “Crimson Permanent Assurance”
Salute Your Shorts is a weekly column that looks at short films, music videos, commercials or any other short form visual media that generally gets ignored.
Unlike most of the shorts that get covered in this column, Terry Gilliam’s “The Crimson Permanent Assurance” is something fans of the director are likely to have seen before without digging deep into film archives or rooting around youtube in the hopes that someone has uploaded them. It’s easy to find, right in front of nearly every release—both theatrical and home—for Monty Python’s The Meaning of Life.
That in itself, though, makes the short pretty unique. Its place in the movie reflects an odd juncture in Terry Gilliam’s career. After years spent animating for first Do Not Adjust Your Set and then Monty Python’s Flying Circus, Gilliam had transitioned away from the form in favor of live-action. His method of animation is impressive in how it allowed a single person to do so much, but even so, it still required countless hours spent alone drawing and moving objects frame by frame.
When the Monty Python TV show ended and the troupe turned towards feature filmmaking with Monty Python and the Holy Grail, Gilliam joined the group’s other Terry (Jones) in directorial duties. By all accounts, this wasn’t a particularly enjoyable enterprise for Gilliam, Jones, or the rest of the group. Gilliam’s focus on visuals rather than performance irked the rest of the cast, who on the whole felt that Jones’ sensibility led to more humor—even if he wasn’t as rich in the details.
Jones directed the Pythons’ other features solo, but the venture gave Gilliam the opportunity to head up several other projects. These two early pictures were Jabberwocky and Time Bandits, which seem more like a form of journeyman training for Gilliam than accomplished features. Jabberwocky largely fails as a comedy and has an uneven grasp of narrative, dragging along slowly to a ramshackle plot. Its visuals are as baroque as later Gilliam, but not as detailed, leading to a far more low-rent look than anything he’d do later. The movie suffers not just in comparison with the similar Grail, but also with later Gilliam, which frequently took on similar themes but without so much plodding and hand-holding.
Time Bandits was more successful, but was still working on the kinks in Gilliam’s style. The movie exhibited a continued reliance on Gilliam’s Python friends for much of its comedy, and its episodic plot works only because it’s a children’s movie. The seams in Time Bandits show, and while it’s by no means a bad movie, its ambition oversteps Gilliam’s ability at the time. Still, it featured some of the first truly Gilliam-feeling scenes, in particular when a horse bursts through its protagonist Kevin’s door. Much else in it has aged poorly, but the invasion of fantasy into reality has become a staple for what Gilliam would become.
Four years after Time Bandits, Gilliam’s masterpiece Brazil was finally released in more or less its creator’s desired form. From there on out, Gilliam’s vision rarely faltered (The Brothers Grimm being his only feature that feels compromised) and despite his difficulties making the movies he wants to, Gilliam’s voice is still unique, even if it can at times be unique in a bad way.