PREMIERE.COM'S REVIEW

On the heels of Charlie Kaufman's Adaptation comes another insider's account of the maddening tug-of-war between art and commerce, vision, and reality. This time, though, the film is a stunning documentary, the novel is Don Quixote, and the attempt to mount it is a complete disaster.

In 1999, at Gilliam's request, Fulton and Pepe began to record the preproduction process for his $32 million feature and lifelong dream, The Man Who Killed Don Quixote, starring Johnny Depp (whom Gilliam directed in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas), Vanessa Paradis, and Jean Rochefort. Little did they know that they would soon get an unmaking-of — a candid look at the myriad tiny deaths that can befall a project — in a story as fateful as Cervantes's classic. Using everything from standard documentary footage and background interviews to animated storyboards, Fulton and Pepe artfully reveal glimpses of what might have been — were it possible to project the Monty Python maverick's vision directly onto screen — while expertly capturing the drama of the moment.

Jeff Bridges narrates as devastation after devastation unfolds: A major financier backs out, the soundstage isn't soundproof, flash floods carry away camera equipment, and Gilliam's magnificent Quixote (Rochefort) develops a psychosomatic prostate infection, which renders him unable to get out of bed, much less ride a horse. It's no wonder assistant director Phil Patterson, perhaps feeling Rochefort's pain, says, "Making a film with Terry is like riding a bareback pony."

Time and again, members of the crew compare this experience to a previous production fiasco, The Adventures of Baron Munchausen; and a whimsical rehash of Gilliam's battles over the years to glean truth and beauty from utter chaos drives home an earlier, eerie comparison between the director and his obsession. In the end, although the windmills of reality eventually fight back and win, the spirit of Quixote prevails, and the indefatigable Gilliam comes out a trooper. Legend has it he's even gone back to the drawing board.

— Brooke Hauser