With a directorial career spanning over forty years, Terry Gilliam (b. 1940) remains rooted in the sensibilities of his early work in animation. Born in Minnesota and raised in the Los Angeles area, Gilliam, sometimes classified as a British filmmaker, has lived in England since the 1960s, renouncing his US citizenship in 2006. As the resident animator of Monty Python’s Flying Circus (1969–1974), Gilliam created surreal and absurd vignettes from cutout images that complemented the live sketches. After partnering with fellow Python Terry Jones in directing Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975), Gilliam struck off on his own with Jabberwocky (1977). Many films followed in which one or more members of Monty Python appeared as actors under his direction. Though Gilliam’s works ostensibly cover diverse subjects—bureaucracy, virus outbreaks, and the gonzo journalist Hunter S. Thompson, to name only a few—all engage with questions of the power and problems of the imagination in the face of an often-grim or oppressive reality. The overall look of a Gilliam film is unmistakable as well, with off-kilter shots meant to disorient the viewer and crowded mises-en-scène. His use of wide-angle lenses is so extensive that the 14-millimeter lens has been nicknamed “the Gilliam.” Deeply involved not only in camerawork but in many other aspects of production such as costuming, set design, and scriptwriting, Gilliam would seem to fit the definition of an auteur. However, in numerous interviews, Gilliam resists that label, stressing his collaborative approach and openness to suggestions. Indeed, the process of making and distributing his films has sometimes garnered as much, if not more, attention than the films themselves. Brazil (1985), The Adventures of Baron Munchausen (1988), The Brothers Grimm (2005), and The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus (2014) all faced disruptions and setbacks of various kinds. No production was bedeviled so long and in so many ways as The Man Who Killed Don Quixote (2018), taking nearly thirty years to reach the screen. Frequently identifying with the main characters of his films in progress, Gilliam perhaps most resembles Don Quixote in his unstinting commitment to his vision, whether commercially successful or not, whether brilliant or baffling to critics or audiences.