Filmmakers Keith Fulton and Louis Pepe traveled http://admin.chicagoreader.com/tools/object-editor?oid=1059177;close=yesto Madrid in summer 2000 to shoot a documentary about the making of Terry Gilliam's The Man Who Killed Don Quixote, but instead of an ordinary promotional puff they came away with a memorable portrait of an artist watching his projected masterwork come crashing down around his ears. Gilliam survives the NATO jets roaring over his shooting location and a flash flood that sweeps away the camera equipment, but when his 70-year-old star, Jean Rochefort, is diagnosed with a prostate infection that keeps him from horseback riding, the bean counters step in and the project Gilliam has been dreaming about for a decade is summarily terminated. The equation of Gilliam with Quixote is so obvious to everyone involved that Fulton and Pepe can hardly be blamed for adopting it, though cinematographer Nicola Pecorini injects a more prosaic view, noting that the budgeting was too tight to allow for mishaps. I was troubled to see how Gilliam, one of the few American filmmakers with a personal vision, still labors in the shadow of his expensive flop The Adventures of Baron Munchausen (1989); more than that, I was chastened by the thought that, had he realized his dream, some smart-ass like me might have dispensed with it in 100 words. 89 min.