A deal with the devil in ‘Doctor Parnassus’

"The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus" won't do much to change Terry Gilliam's rep as the industry's hard-luck director.

Gilliam's had entire productions washed away by flooding, and even a success like "Twelve Monkeys" had setbacks - he was seriously injured falling off a horse.

The difficulties that beset "Parnassus," of course, are notorious - star Heath Ledger died midway through production, sending Gilliam scrambling for some way to finish it. (And though not as widely known, his producer, William Vince, also died during production).

The good news is "Parnassus" absorbs the disaster of Ledger's death incredibly well. The movie's strange narrative is able to accommodate the use of stand-ins (Colin Farrell, Jude Law, Johnny Depp) with amazing ease.

The bad news: that strange narrative, grounded in a fantasy world that Gilliam renders via computer-generated effects, makes "Parnassus" a primarily visual spectacle.

And I wouldn't want to be the first guy after "Avatar" to come to market with a visual spectacle, even if I were as talented as Gilliam. (Or Peter Jackson, whose effects-driven "Lovely Bones" may also be avatarred and feathered.)

And "Parnassus" ain't "Brazil," or even "Baron Von Munchhausen," in which Gilliam also collaborated with writer Charles McKeown.

Here, they've conjured a story about a traveling showman (Christopher Plummer) who's made a deal with the devil (Tom Waits) for long life.

The bill has come due - Parnassus is to give the devil the soul of his only daughter, but he convinces Satan to settle for five strangers instead.

Parnassus means to give the devil five customers by luring them into his carnival fun-house contraption, but business is bad.

Into this mess walks Ledger's character, a suicidal mystery man with a talent for marketing. He finds a way to lure customers into Parnassus' trap, not fully aware of the consequences.

There's also a love angle, and the stories are difficult to sort out, and, I regret to say, almost impossible to care about.

I'm not sure we're even meant to. Gilliam's work has always had a bitter side to it, and it's more pronounced than usual here, particularly in its attitude toward Parnassus' clientele.

And Ledger's role is little more than a creepy career footnote. He looks tousled and out of it, and we never quite recover from his ghoulish entrance - hanging from the end of a rope.