Effects-laden visual feasts of the imagination are all very well and brilliant, but they are also, apparently, a total hassle to make. Coupled with the levels of studio interference, hostility, and arguments that ensued, Terry Gilliam found himself in the position of just wanting to make something relatively simple. Hence The Fisher King, released in 1991. A budget of $24 million returned a box office of roughly $42 million; it was as critically acclaimed as ever, but a very different beast from the director’s previous films.

Written by Richard LaGravenese (writer of Cuaron’s A Little Princess, Eastwood’s The Bridges Of Madison County, and, sadly, writer and director of two-hour guff fest PS. I Love You), The Fisher King is a very 90s (fashion, music, yuppie culture, Jeff Bridges’ haircut being identical to Qui-Gon Jinn’s) tale of hubris and humanity, and features one of the great Robin Williams’ performances.

After jarring with the rest of the cast in Baron Munchausen, Williams’ mania here is comparatively restrained, and he is playing an emotionally damaged man obsessed with trying to find the Holy Grail. Cue fantasy horror sequences featuring a Red Knight, numerous Arthurian references, and a journey of redemption for Jeff Bridges’ complete arsehole of a DJ, Jack Lucas. Rumour has it that the studio did not want to pay Howard Stern to be a consultant on the film, although he was asked for tapes of his show. Considering how Lucas is portrayed in the film, it’s hardly surprising.