The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus (12A)

BROADLY speaking, there are only three types of story.

Tragedies. Comedies. And oogie- boogie-bim-bum insanities, with magic mirrors, electric jellyfish, Mini-Me in a top hat 'n tails, and cross-dressing policemen dancing in a chorus line.

And wouldn't you just know it, readers - Terry Gilliam's new film slots neatly into category three.

The Imaginarium Of Doctor Parnassus is no relation to the Wonder Emporium of Mister Magorium, thank goodness. But there are four things you need to know about it:

1. It's a "modern-day fantasy adventure" (their words) with a plot that's harder to explain than string theory.

2. It's Heath Ledger's last film - he died in the middle of making it.

3. It's fussy, confusing and chaotic, and at times the acting hums to high heaven.

4. Despite all that, it's a total delight.

Doctor Parnassus (Christopher Plummer) is a travelling showman who owns a magic mirror that transports punters into a strange land made up of their wildest fantasies.

Sounds far-fetched - but Jordan's got one. She looks into it every morning before thinking: "Yeah, I'm fit."

Doctor P, we learn in a lush prologue - won eternal life in a risky bargain with the Devil (played by grizzled rocker Tom Waits, sharp move, Tel). But the price was his first-born child, the lovely Valentina, played by model-turned-actress Lily Cole. She's not exactly an arrival on the movie scene that will have Meryl Streep lying awake in a cold sweat of a night.

But what she lacks in talent, she more than makes up for by taking the film's sexiness to near-meltdown levels.

Gilliam's camera LOVES this girl. Her weird little Stewie-from- Family-Guy face lights up the screen. As for the rest of her? Holy Stromboli. Best Costumes Oscar, we have a contender.

As the film begins, Val's just hit her 16th birthday (aye, right) and Waitsy comes a-calling to pick up his bounty. So the Doc and his daughter need a hero.

And just like that, one shows up - with a lantern jaw, white suit, and more-than-passing resemblance to that chap with the green hair from down Gotham City way. Yes, it's Heath - as troubled London socialite Tony.

As final roles go, this couldn't be more horribly apt - the first time we see him, he's swinging from a noose under-neath a bridge during a suicide attempt. There's no way to watch this film WITHOUT being horribly aware that Ledger died halfway through filming.

But it's chillingly ironic you're reminded of it the first time he appears on screen.

The Doc and his entourage - driver Percy (Verne Troyer) and stagehand Anton (Andrew Garfield) - cut down Tony, and the following morning he wakes without a clue as to what's going on (join the club, son.)

He vaguely remembers he's some kind of charity fundraiser, and dedicates his talents to pepping up the Doc's show and rescuing Val. And Heath rocks the role like no other. You won't ever find automatic praise for dead stars' last projects on these pages, but this is a young actor at the peak of his powers.

He takes an oddly written part and stamps his personality all over it with a magnetic performance. It's a fitting tribute to the guy's epic talent.

As the story rolls on, Heath takes three trips into the mirror, each one bringing out a different side of his personality. In these scenes - among the last to be filmed - that Gilliam uses high-profile stand-ins to play "fantasy" Tony.

The superb first bit stars the mighty Johnny Depp, who comes close to stealing the film. The second stars Jude Law, and is not quite as successful (although that's more down to the weakish concept than Jude, who's better in this than anything else he's done in the last five years). And the third stars Colin Farrell, and drags on a bit - but also features Lil in her smalls, so it's brilliant.

But even without Lily, the visuals are top-notch. Gilliam draws on his past life as Monty Python animator to come up with some of the most beautifully imaginative images of the year. Also impressive is the way Depp, Law and Farrell have been made to look like Heath. Each time one of them shows up, there's a jarring is-it-still-him-or-isn't-it? moment - the same eerie tingle you get from looking in a fair-ground mirror, which is probably the idea.

Sounds like an utter bloody shambles? That's because it is. And it's difficult to know what to make of the thing when the credits roll and the lights come up. It's the most Marmite film of the year, in truth. But whether you love or hate it, one thing is certain.

Doctor P is drenched in imagination, and pulses with a fizz-banging love for storytelling that outshines the slick but soulless pap currently clogging cinemas.

Zombieland? Love Happens? You can keep 'em. I'd rather share a final trip with Heath and Terry any day.

OUT FRIDAY

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