Tideland

Directed by Terry Gilliam. Starring Jodelle Ferland, Janet McTeer, and Brendan Fletcher. Rated 14A.

It’s hard to figure out whether Terry Gilliam’s Tideland is the bravest movie I’ve seen this year or simply the most self-indulgent. Maybe it’s both, which is no small accomplishment in these conservative times. Based on the cult novel by coscreenwriter Mitch Cullin, Tideland is the story of a young girl’s attempt to deal with the drug-induced deaths of her parents by escaping into the rich and spooky world of her imagination. Tied together by the mere ghost of a plot—and Saskatchewan’s grand visual landscape—it has some elevating moments. Mostly, though, it’s seriously weird.

Okay, so we expect some weirdness from the Monty Python alumnus who gave us Brazil and the movie version of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. But just in case you’re expecting the kind of mainstream eccentricity Gilliam served up in The Fisher King, you should be aware that this one’s a tough go. The story revolves around a girl name Jeliza-Rose (B.C.’s Jodelle Ferland, who carries the movie with an Oscar-worthy performance). She’s both the caretaker and the enabler for her junkie parents (Jennifer Tilly and Jeff Bridges, who both check out woefully early.) It’s both disturbing and heartbreaking to watch Jeliza-Rose help prepare for “Daddy’s little vacation” as if she were making macaroni and cheese.

As soon as this seedy little scene of domesticity is established, Mom dies from an overdose. Dad takes his daughter back to his late grandmother’s place on the isolated prairie. Their next-door neighbours are a scary mother (Janet McTeer) and her son Dickens (local actor Brendan Fletcher, whose captivating portrayal of a southern man-child ranks right up there with Boo Radley and Forrest Gump.) When her dad dies, Jeliza-Rose leaves the body undisturbed, using fantasy to cope with a corpse in the living room.

Gilliam has justifiably warned that Tideland intentionally shifts “perspectives and rhythms”. Just when you think you’re locked into the grimmest of fairy tales, the tone changes. One minute it feels like you’re watching a white-trash version of To Kill a Mockingbird and the next you’re being subjected to a more elegant take on Bride of Chucky. The story falls apart all too soon, but if you’re willing to hang in for the sake of a couple of great performances, Tideland has a way of staying with you.

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