It’s not often that you find a film so moving and entertaining that you sing its praises for all to hear. Before someone tells you to stop or calls the police, tell them about The Fisher King. Perhaps it’s nostalgia or maybe it’s the prospect of seeing something totally original, but masterpieces like this don’t come too often.

Shock-jock Jack Lucas (a pre-Dude Jeff Bridges) revels in his sordid radio show, combining crass humor and humiliating his callers. One day his remarks are taken too far and Jack receives a shot of humanity straight to the groin.

Some years later Jack is scraping along the rock bottom. Living with his no-nonsense girlfriend Anne (Mercedes Ruehl), he’s become an embittered alcoholic with no motivation or redeeming qualities. Yeah… he’s kind of a downer. Finally Jack decides to enter “the Big Sleep”, but is saved by Parry (Robin Williams), an eccentric homeless man who claims he’s on a quest to find the Holy Grail.

And so begins the unlikely duo’s journey into a New York steeped in chivalry and teeming with nods to the Arthurian legend. Fearing that he’ll tarnish Parry’s romantic idealism, Jack reluctantly agrees to assist this poetic nutjob – even if that means believing tales of an invisible red knight rampaging Central Park and an unwitting damsel (Amanda Plummer) who’s in dire need of Dr. 90210. As exciting as it is heartwarming, The Fisher King is an exuberant ride through the mayhem of love, revealing all the little things individuals do to find their own Grail.

Unlike Williams’ present work, The Fisher King balances sly humor with a lot of heart. It’s the inherent humanity of the film that makes it a touchstone unlike any other. And, despite his sometimes irritating, willy-nilly carousing, Williams manages to be bearable…even likable.

Though all principals in Terry Gilliam’s ingenious cast deliver tour de force performances, the standout is Mercedes Ruehl. Her portrayal of Jack’s tortured, brash girlfriend defined sexiness in the early 90’s. She’s a sensible foil to the anarchic plot and the voice of reason to the cast. Without her they’d all be in serious need of counseling.

Insanity was once synonymous with the British comedy troupe, Monty Python. So it makes sense that alumnus Terry Gilliam proves his directorial prowess through spinning a credible yarn and accompanying it with fantastic visuals. Sometimes insane and sometimes bloated, Gilliam helms underrated gems (Brazil and 12 Monkeys) as often as he bombs miserably (The Brothers Grimm). But the American ex-pat, persists in making idiosyncratic films epic in scope and unequaled in their mesmerizing milieu.

Jack is Parry’s Sancho. Parry is a 20th Century Don Quixote. The Fisher King is a rare modern fairytale with a story that’s endearing, not forced or sappy. Through its themes of redemption and joie de vivre, it’s a film that too often begs the question: why don’t they make ‘em like this anymore?’