"I've made the film in my head - the pictures are already there," says the former Python and director of classic films including The Fisher King and Brazil.

Flash floods, sound stages with useless acoustics, a star with a prostate problem and $32.1m later that's still all Gilliam has - a film in his head.

Things never looked too clever from the off. Gilliam himself admitted the budget would only pay for half the movie he envisaged which, coming from such an uncompromising director, spelt trouble.

Then there was the problem of non-appearing stars (Vanessa Paradis) and a Spanish cowshed masquarading as a state-of-the-art sound stage.

It gets worse. The film set in the desert north of Madrid is handily placed next to a NATO base - so the roar of F-16s drowns out the dialogue.

Early into production a torrential storm sets off a flash flood that literally washes away the set -and stains the surrounding landscape, ruining continuity.

Then comes the big one. Rochefort, who made the early days of filming, has to fly home to Paris with prostate problems.

"It's just a minor infection," opines Gilliam hopefully. "He'll be able to ride a horse."

It's not and he won't. Shooting is delayed interminably until it is clear that Rochefort will never be mounting up as Don Quixote. The movie is abandoned.

Because of Gilliam's innate decency and loyalty there is very little to laugh at. Instead, you find yourself feeling for a creative genius who looks to be on the point of breakdown when the money-men close down a project 10 years in the making.

It's typical that Gilliam's reply to the documentary-makers when they said they felt uncomfortable shooting was, "Someone's got to get a film out of this mess, so it had better be you."

Tim Evans