Documentary Review Lost in La Mancha

Lost in La Mancha (2002) 

Directed by Terry Gilliam 

Written by Documentary 

Starring Terry Gilliam, Johnny Depp, Jean Rochefort

Release Date August 30th, 2002 

Published September 25th, 2002 

It's said to be the project that consumed Orson Welles. The dream project of directors as far back as the dawn of cinema. The legend of Don Quixote, the Man of La Mancha. The legendary novel by Miguel De Cervantes has been adapted as a musical, a ballet, and a straight retelling on TV starring John Lithgow as Quixote. But it was Terry Gilliam who had the grand vision of a theatrical Don Quixote. For more than 10 years he had the story in his head, and with the right cast, budget and location it looked like his vision might come about. As the documentary Lost In La Mancha details, Gilliam had the vision, but vision and reality can collide in the most all consuming ways.

In August of 2000, Terry Gilliam arrived in Spain to begin pre-production on The Man Who Killed Don Quixote, his grand reimagining of The Man From La Mancha. With a budget of $38 million, all raised from foreign investors, the film would be entirely non-Hollywood and the largest European financed film ever. However with Gilliam's unique vision, it was also about half the money the production needed.

Production pressed on with costumes, sets and location scouting as problems emerged. One problem, the film had no stars. Though Johnny Depp and French actor Jean Rochefort had signed contracts, neither actor had found time to come to Spain for rehearsal. A bigger problem loomed with actress Vinessa Paradis who had verbally agreed to play the female lead. She had not signed a contract for some two weeks until shooting was to begin.

In Gilliam's story, Johnny Depp played Toby, a man who by some quirk is sent back to the time of Don Quixote who then mistakes him for his colleague Sancho Panza. Toby joins Quixote for a uniquely Terry Gilliam adventure through the book’s many wildly romantic adventures, tilting at windmills and such. It certainly sounds fascinating on the page, and with Gilliam's visionary resume (Brazil, Fear and Loathing Las Vegas and The Adventures Of Baron Munchausen), it was certain to be like no retelling of the legendary story ever.

Early on, even as shooting began, the clouds of doom hung over the production. Sometimes literally clouds hung over as a massive thunderstorm washed out two full days of shooting. The film's biggest tragedy however wasn't strikes from Mother Nature. Seventy year old Jean Rochefort, who was Gilliam's ideal choice for Quixote, who had taken 7 months to learn English for the film, fell ill. Before shooting began, Rochefort had a scare with a severe prostate problem. Once shooting began, the problem was made worse by the requirement that Rochefort ride a horse. As it turns out, Rochefort had two herniated discs in his lower back, which prevented him from riding a horse.

Because Rochefort was signed as a principal cast member, insurance contracts prevented the role from being recast without shutting down the production. Shut down the production and you lose your investors. You can't make Don Quixote without Don Quixote and so despite the visionary director and his talented crew The Man Who Killed Don Quixote was repossessed by the insurance company where it remains in limbo.

The story is somewhat small for a big screen rendition, essentially boiling down to a battle with an insurance company who aren't portrayed as bad guys, merely as realistic businessmen. The film’s foreign producers, Bernard Bouix and Rene Cleitman, are also not the bad guys, though somewhat unrealistic in their expectations of the production. They nevertheless seemed to have the best interest of the film at heart.

The one element that makes Lost in La Mancha a fascinating story is Gilliam. The few scenes where the visionary filmmaker is actually working are mesmerizing. Gilliam clearly has an amazing idea he wants to communicate. The film he wants to make would no doubt be brilliant if he could realize it.

Much like Orson Welles, whose vision of Quixote never made it to the screen (His was completed by another filmmaker after his death but not to Welles' specifications); the outsized romanticism of the project eluded Gilliam. Though if the elements could just come together as he sees them in his head, you know from Lost in La Mancha that it could be brilliant.