early secret screening at USC c. 1984

During "the battle for Brazil" I attended what was supposed to be an early secret public screening of the film during a USC film class. Word of mouth had spread that the film that was "even greater than TME BANDITS" was finished but that the studio was not going to release it because of "creative differences." Around 300-400 mostly college students assembled on less than a few hours notice for a daytime screening with Terry Gilliam present, hoping to arouse public support to bolster the already growing critical support for his film. The first reel was threaded into the projector and the lights had been dimmed when a last minute call from the legal department of Universal somehow reached the theater. Gilliam himself came out to reassure the audience that after a short delay, the screening would take place as announced - but first he needed to take this important call. After the house lights had been up for five minutes he returned to explain that the call had not gone well but he was now speaking with his own lawyers and for everyone to please be patient. He seemed a little more pale in the face, but as anyone who has seen Giliam in an interview knows, his nervous energy comes across mostly as giddy and mischievous, no matter the topic. After a lengthy delay when at least a third of the audience wandered off - back to classes, mostly, as it was a weekday mid-semester, the faithful were again told by Terry that the screening was happening - just that he had managed to negotiate that we would instead, as agreed to by "the suits" at Universal, only see a "clip" from the 132 minute cut of the film - a clip he then giggled, that was approximately 131 minutes and 59 seconds long. And again the tease began with the dimming of the lights only to be followed quickly by another interruption. It was clear by now this was brinksmanship, California-style and sadly, that the studio was winning the day, with spies in the audience relaying the tactics. There were at least four of five such delays where GIliam rushed back to the stage to try to hold the dwindling audience in readiness for a contentious screening. The committed, after more than three hours of waiting winnowed to less than two dozen when in the end Terry came out, house lights on and sat on the edge of the stage to apologize personally to all who had stuck it out. He'd frankly lost the battle, he explained and the amount of legal trouble he faced was simply not worth the fight for this one day. He looked like he'd been in a cage match with lions, his rumpled linen suit dripping with sweat and his shoulders beaten down into a near permanent hunch, his demeanor that of someone who had been brutalized and was still not out of a detention cell. He said he'd like to explain the nature of the fight he was caught in, but that the simplest way to tell it would have been to show us the film - the two situations, the plot of the film and the pickle he found himself in as a director were nearly identical. We, as a group all tried to show him our verbal support and wish him luck but what could any of us do? After ten minute of sincere handshakes and shrugs, we all left him alone on the stage like the end of a scene in a prizefighting movie. He wasn't going anywhere but none of us had anything left to say, or the strength to make it sound like it was going to be alright. The only thing left for anyone to say were the words on the full page ad: "Hey Sid, when are you going to release my film?" and the answer that day seemed to be, never. His enterouge came to collect him like he was James Brown leaving the Apollo. He'd wanted to show us the whole thing, he was READY to show everyone. We learned no plot spoilers at all that day, as he assumed he wouldn't have needed to talk about the film, which speaks for itself then as well as it does now... It wasn't until the next year that BRAZIL debuted at FILMEX '85 and I was in the second row for the LA premiere to see his ultimate triumph over the forces of corporate cowardice and just plain suckhood. I was twenty years old, filled with passion and deeply in love with the movies as only youth can be, and I'd just seen a man fight the fight of a lifetime, I thought at the time. He's still fighting the good fight. He's still fighting.