The answer is 'little elves'. Sorry, but what would you expect from the man who brought Time Bandits, Brazil and The Adventures of Baron Munchausen to our screens. But yes, he's kinda right. The elves do play their part. Recently I posted a video of John Cleese talking about the creative pause. Now his Python buddy Terry Gilliam talks about putting faith in his pixies, or rather his subconscious, to find the connections that create his stories:
I used to say I knew where the ideas came from. Because I'd go to bed, and I'd leave my shoes by the bed. And I'd wake up and there'd be these little elves that would come in and put ideas in my shoes, and I'd just use them.
I refuse to intellectualize, or try to understand how it happens. It happens, and I just try to ride with it. And the frightening thing is when it doesn't happen, it's actually terrifying because you realize, "I've dried up. It's finally happened: the well is empty." But, then if you get through those periods, then something starts happening again. A lot of what happens, it's like doing a painting without actually doing a sketch in advance. You just start and you got this, you add another thing, boom, boom, boom.
Just for one example, The Wholly Family, is the scene in the hospital. There was always going to be a hospital scene and the boy would see himself as a baby. But then, I was in this place that repairs dolls, the hospital of dolls, and there was this little plastic egg with a Pulcinella in it, so OK, now we have eggs and that's how babies come. And it just changed it. It was beautiful. I think it's about having an idea and never letting it become rigid. It's just the beginning, and then you just see what you can pull into it. At the end, there you are.
I like that he has this image of elves doing the work for him. Ghosts make another good metaphor for idea generation. Like ghosts the ideas are always there, half formed, floating all around, everywhere you go, waiting to become a reality. Only you can see them because the ghosts are faint realisations of the experiences you've collected. As Gilliam says, 'they are not rigid, they're just the beginning, and then you just see what you can pull into it'.
Like the elves in the night, the ghosts find you. Probably when you least expect them to visit. Gilliam's came in hospital for dolls. Newton's came when he was in the orchard. Archimedes came whilst he was taking a bath. The ideas come. Eventually. Having faith in ghosts, elves or simply a part of your brain that you don't control requires the kind of leap of faith that only people who believe in elves in the first place are likely to take. Another great reason to cling onto what's left of your childlike mind.
Comments