‘Time Bandits’ Review: Taika Waititi’s Apple TV+ Take on the Terry Gilliam Cult Classic Rewards Patience

As someone who grew up watching Monty Python’s Flying Circus and the films that followed, I was eagerly anticipating the reimagining of Time Bandits for modern television. Having seen the first half of the season, I must admit that I was left with a bittersweet feeling.

During the 1980s, we, the kids, were fortunate to have Steven Spielberg and his team create plenty of movies specifically for us. However, these movies didn’t always leave us unscathed. For instance, I recall being frightened by “Gremlins” or “Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom,” while my younger brother was particularly disturbed by “The ‘Burbs.”

Terry Gilliam stood out among movie makers, creating films marketed for children yet not suitable for all. I recall my initial cinema experience being cut short at a re-run of “Jabberwocky” due to its unexpected adult content. Viewers shared similar apprehension with “The Adventures of Baron Munchausen,” and earlier, “Time Bandits” from 1981. This film offered an enjoyable, playful journey for kids but was also filled with unsettling dark visuals and fragmented narratives. It mirrored the unpredictable nature of childhood fantasies, devoid of the typical moral lessons found in children’s stories.

Apple TV+’s new adaptation of “Time Bandits” by Taika Waitesi, focuses more on the humorous aspects of the original story, leaving behind the unusual elements that were once prominent. This approach is characteristic of Waitesi’s style, which can be described as Terry Gilliam with a touch of humor and simplicity.

As someone who has spent countless hours watching various TV shows, I can relate to the feeling of sticking with a series even when it seems to lose its spark. With “Time Bandits,” Terry Gilliam’s fantastical time-traveling adventure, I found myself in a similar situation.

As a passionate gamer and history enthusiast, I can’t help but be drawn to the captivating world of this series. Created by Jemaine Clement, Iain Morris, and Taika Waititi, it hooks you right from the start. You meet Kevin (Kal-El Tuck), an 11-year-old boy with a deep love for history. He’s so engrossed in it that he can’t help but share his knowledge with everyone around him. This quirky trait doesn’t sit well with his classmates, who often overlook him during games and activities. Even at home, Kevin faces teasing from his younger sister Saffron (Kiera Thompson). Despite the challenges, he remains undeterred in his pursuit of historical wisdom.

In his books and intricate plans, Kevin’s life appears ordinary. However, an unexpected discovery transforms his mundane existence: his wardrobe becomes a time portal, releasing five uninvited guests – Penelope (Lisa Kudrow), the uneasy leader; empathetic Judy (Charlyne Yi); ambitious actor Alto (Tadhg Murphy); towering Bittelig (Rune Temte); and Widgit (Roger Jean Nsengiyumva), their skilled navigator.

A group of former allies of the deity Waititi, referred to as bandits, have made off with a valuable map. Penelope describes it as “an intricate chart of the irregularities and gateways in the complex web of time, space, morality, and dimensions one through four.” This map holds the power to enable travel throughout the universe. The deity is displeased by its theft, while his adversary Clement, also known as Pure Evil, gleefully takes advantage of the situation. To retrieve the map, Clement sends Rachel House’s character, Fianna, a ruthless huntress with the ability to shoot lasers from her eyes.

Regarding maps, the filmmakers had it made easy for them in the movie. Surprisingly, the film is strictly episodic with no clear connection between events. Kevin and his bandits travel through various historical periods without fully grasping how the map functions. Simultaneously, caricatures of good and evil are orchestrating their demise. The film is filled with humor, yet it doesn’t strongly resemble Monty Python in tone – maybe because co-writers Palin and Gilliam aimed to create something distinct from a follow-up to “Holy Grail” or “Life of Brian.”

As a devoted fan, I’ve noticed that the creators seem more relaxed about repeating themselves in this series, giving it a vibe similar to watching Monty Python sketches. They add a touch of Mel Brooks here and there, which results in an ensemble reminiscent of both the British and American versions of “Ghosts.” Don’t get me wrong; there are chuckles, but they often feel derivative, like in the episode about the Trojan Horse and another set in the Middle Ages. The show is heavy on dialogue, and while it acknowledges its repetitive structure, the rhythm of jumping through portals, arriving in new eras, having Kevin explain historical figures, solving minor issues, and moving onto the next period becomes both familiar and eventually monotonous.

As a gamer, I’ve come across many games with an intriguing backstory, but the delivery of educational tidbits and life lessons in this one feels underwhelming, even compared to movies. The storytelling and filmmaking progress don’t exactly stand out. What makes this game so beloved by fans is its DIY approach to special effects, sets, and locations. In contrast, the series filmed in New Zealand often falls short of truly stunning visuals.

The initial part of the show’s run presents an opportunity for Tuck to exhibit an authentic, endearing screen persona, and for the creators to fine-tune Kudrow’s sharp wit, Murphy’s flamboyant acting, and Nsengiyumva’s amiable perplexity. After some successful early jokes centered around Judy’s struggle to employ her empathetic abilities, the program falters in utilizing Yi’s signature understated sarcasm effectively. Regrettably, the character seems to disappear from the narrative in a way that would be unremarkable even if not for the public strife reported during filming.

The series’ transition from something forgettably entertaining coincides with an increased focus on Thompson’s Saffron, whose energy is completely different and whose presence on a history-spanning adventure of her own allows Time Bandits to, finally, establish its own terrain and even its own approach to the paradoxes of time travel. The seventh and eighth episodes, written by Clement, put Thompson and Saffron at the forefront and some hilarity ensues, both in how the series gives Saffron a clearer personal arc than Kevin was provided and in how her droll, slang-y and youthfully sardonic delivery fuels the show’s take on anachronism and dramatic irony. It’s a series-shifting character and performance in the best way possible.

The show hasn’t quite managed to develop Clement and Waititi’s characters as formidable adversaries, instead frequently shifting focus to other locations we’re not labeling Heaven or Hell. However, there’s intrigue in how “good” and “evil” are portrayed. The final episodes leave us intrigued for future seasons, with Kudrow delivering several poignant moments that transform Penelope from a source of sarcastic quips to a relatable and compassionate figure. Additionally, the series starts to tackle the issue of dwarf representation that was overlooked during the transition from the big to small screen.

In the second part of “Time Bandits,” the new items discovered aren’t overly groundbreaking or imaginative, and they won’t be distressing for young audiences. Whether a less intense, less eccentric “Time Bandits” is an advantage or disadvantage is subjective. Nonetheless, it’s entertaining and I’d enjoy seeing more of it.

2024-07-24 01:55

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