This is what Terry Gilliam is known for
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He first became famous as the animator for Monty Python, where he was the lone American (he renounced his US citizenship in 2006) and played the parts others didn't want to, often because they required hours in make-up, such as the jailer in Life of Brian. Now he is better known as the director of 13 films including Brazil, 12 Monkeys and Time Bandits, and has branched out into theatre and opera. "I'm easily bored so I like to try new things," he explains. "It's a way of staying young because I'm learning." Now his first musical is finally here.
Terry Gilliam mimes sewing his lips shut when I ask him what happened at the Old Vic. The London theatre cancelled his production of Into the Woods in November without explanation, but amid a staff uprising over comments Gilliam had made about the #MeToo movement and on transgender rights. This is the first time he has given an interview since his "cancellation", and he initially pretends that he will keep shtoom, before he lets rip.
"I refer to them as Neo-Calvinists," he says of the staff who lobbied the Old Vic bosses to scrap his show. "They are totally closed-minded. [To them] there is only one truth and one way of looking at the world. Well, 'f*** you!' is my answer to them."
Gilliam's wife, Maggie Weston, a make-up artist whom he married 49 years ago, keeps telling him to avoid controversy, but that's not his nature. "I have a head so it goes above the parapet sometimes to see what's up there" — he peers out, pretending he has been shot — "Ow! Ow! But we're still standing."
What sparked the ire of Old Vic staff last year was Gilliam encouraging his Facebook followers to watch the comedian Dave Chappelle's Netflix show, which had been criticised as transphobic. There was also his lampooning of identity politics by claiming that he was a black lesbian, and calling #MeToo a "witch-hunt", including the claim that some of Harvey Weinstein's alleged victims were "adults who made choices".
Gilliam and Hausman say that they were never confronted by members of the Old Vic 12 — the organisation's artistic development scheme, who were among those who raised concerns; instead all their conversations were with management. "I think it's very sad," Gilliam adds. "They allowed a small group of kids to dictate to them or to intimidate them. We know there's a feeling of guilt — the [source of that] guilt just arrived back in the country."
It is broader than the Old Vic, Gilliam adds; people complain about jokes in Monty Python's Flying Circus now. He recently had a phone call from the BBC concerned about it causing offence, because it mentions "fat ignorant bastards" in one sketch. "It's just virtue signalling."
He doesn't regret anything he has said. "When I announced [I was actually a] black lesbian, the anger was not from LGBT people or black people. It was from people who felt they had to defend these victims of Gilliam's joke, the 'activists'. They love the idea of other people's victimhood so they can be defenders."
On the trans issue he blames the lobby group Stonewall — which he used to support — for organisations and politicians feeling under pressure to put trans inclusivity above concerns for women. "As somebody said, movements start with a genuine sense of wrong, and if successful become businesses, and if the businesses keep growing they become rackets." The BBC and a number of government departments have recently severed some links with Stonewall, he notes, adding: "Maybe common sense is rising again."
I ask if he has changed his mind about #MeToo being a witch-hunt. "It was. Despite the monstrousness of Harvey Weinstein — yes, victims were there — but there were also people who benefited. Hollywood is full of adults who are ambitious. That's all I said; I'm not saying crimes have not been committed." He points to the former senator Al Franken (now back with a podcast and a touring comedy show) and Pixar's John Lasseter (now with a film, Luck, with Apple) as men unfairly felled by #MeToo. "John was accused of hugging too much!" Gilliam says. "There are people who are victims on both sides. But when the crimes are so minor, let's be careful about the punishment."
Often, though, I say, victims had no power. "People say they have no power when they assume they have no power," he responds, telling me of an actress friend who escaped Weinstein's clutches. "She talked her way out. She was a tough lady. [But] I can see a young actress being frightened and not knowing what to do because 'is this going to ruin my career?'"
But Weinstein did ruin the careers of actresses who refused his advances, I say, which means that even if a woman consented, she was still under duress. "He's a f***ing monster," Gilliam replies. "I said that and I wasn't quoted on that! What I don't like is mob mentality. And I don't guard my speech very often — even with journalists. I always regret it."
He has a Google alert for his name, and says everything controversial he has ever said keeps being rereported: "It's clickbait — you can never escape it. The rest of your life, no matter what wonderful things you have done."
Terry Gilliam: How I was squished by cancel culture
Terry Gilliam mimes sewing his lips shut when I ask him what happened at the Old Vic. The London theatre cancelled his production of Into the Woods in November
www.thetimes.co.uk
