For much of its screening time The Brothers Grimm is incoherent, out of focus, edited by a pair of garden shears and played through some overpowered i-Pod speakers. None of these elements on its own are enough to make it great, though in combination they add to what is a bizarre viewing experience. It is only when you think about his career a bit closer you realise that Terry Gilliam developed as a director when actually being technically any good as a director did not matter.

The idea that there is a base line of production values in any Hollywood movie now which means that they will be technically better than most films twenty years ago seems almost a given. (Along with the suggestion that in most other aspects they will be worse.) But the last time I saw jarring scene transitions, over compels sets and lack of sense in a film like this was Jabberwocky. Oh. I see.

Matt Damon & Heath Ledger seem to be in very different films to the rest of the cast, and act their little hearts out for very little return. The history of the real actual Brothers Grimm is pissed upon from a great height for very little return. The over-intricate dovetailing of well over fifteen fairytales into one massively incoherent whole seems to be done by someone who did not see how bad the league Of Extraordinary Gentlemen film was. Jonathon Pryce’s accent, Peter Stormaire’s accent, the dodgy special effects, the stance machinery, the overall flob of this picture is astounding: and is also what makes it great. Indeed whilst the project is riddled with rubbish, I only really have one problem with it.

The premise: that The Brothers Grimm, rather than collectors and writers of fairytales, were in fact adventuring conmen made good. You trying to tell me that a scholarly and authorial life is less exciting than one involving catapaults and mirrored armour and toad licking? Now you are telling tales.