Tuesday, November 15, 2022

REVIEW COLLECTION: Strange and Unusual or, The Early Films of Tim Burton, Second Edition


WRITER'S NOTE: The following piece was originally published on October 31, 2016. Individual reviews have been updated and posted on my Instagram page @film_freeq in the fall of 2022. They’ve been organized by their initial theatrical release dates.

Often known for his love of the macabre and the strange, Tim Burton has, for many years, played a role in several different and genres and mediums (some of them all at once): animation, comedy, supernatural, horror, comic book, modern-day fantasy, and biopic. His early work from the mid-1980s to the mid-1990s specifically set the template for his career. Here's a look back at those films.

Pee-Wee's Big Adventure (1985) 
Burton began his career as a Disney animator in the early-1980, with his short films Vincent and Frankenweenie. Although not the first movie most people think of from him, his feature-length debut, Pee-Wee's Big Adventure, stars the ever-popular man-child creation of Paul Reubens, who travels across country on a quest to find his stolen bicycle. Echoing the sensibilities and physical humor of Charlie Chaplin, Buster Keaton and Jerry Lewis, this film also displayed what would become Burton's visual style: quirky, expressionistic, and absurd, all with the essence of a live-action cartoon. And although it's essentially a comedy, Pee-Wee is kind of a hard film to categorize.

Pee-Wee experiences the dark and interesting sides of the world as he meets an offbeat cast of characters, from ghostly truck drivers to bikers and even Alamo tourists, all leading up to a memorable chase on the Warner Brothers lot (not seen on screen since Blazing Saddles in 1974). And as memorable as he is (the film has become a cult classic in the pop culture zeitgeist ever since), Pee-Wee Herman is also one of the strangest characters ever brought to the screen, what with his bizarre mannerisms, voice, and inventive household of toys and contraptions. (Remember his breakfast machine?) He even considers himself a "loner," despite his friendship with Dottie (who constantly begs him for a date to the drive-in) and sweet moments with diner waitress Simone (who dreams of going to France). It's no wonder the film's tagline on the poster read, "The story of a rebel and his bike" (possibly a silly play on James Dean or Marlon Brando, the latter of whom reportedly believed that Pee-Wee was actually real).

TRIVIAL FACT: Marked the first of many collaborations between Burton and composer Danny Elfman, who's next score for the creative auteur was even more iconic. 

Beetlejuice (1988) 
If Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure set a standard for Tim Burton's brand of quirkiness, then Beetlejuice set a standard for his sense of the macabre. In the same category as Ghostbusters (made four years prior), this supernatural horror-comedy puts a twist on the haunted house theme, as a newly-deceased couple (Alec Baldwin and Genna Davis) are "haunted" by the new owners of their home (Jeffrey Jones and Catherine O'Hara), but don't really know what to do about it. As one character says, "live people ignore the strange and unusual." They soon call on a "freelance bio-exorcist" for help, only to find a ghoul with a wild, crazy, and perverted personality.

Michael Keaton is a hoot as the titular "ghost with the most," and Bo Welch's production design gives the film an animated zaniness; ditto Danny Elfman's iconic score and the soundtrack's use of Harry Belafonte music. However, Beetlejuice laughs its way through misguided spirituality, convoluted perspectives on the afterlife, and references to suicide (very depressing). This trademark of the macabre would later be seen in Burton's horror-inspired films, Sleepy Hollow (1999), Sweeney Todd (2007), and Dark Shadows (2012).

Batman (1989) 
For the first time since the release of Richard Donner's Superman in 1978, Burton's Batman became the quintessential film that set a new benchmark for what a comic book movie could be ("dark" and "definitive," as executive producer Michael E. Uslan described). It was also a revolutionary achievement on so many levels, from its expressionistic world of Gotham City (courtesy Oscar-winning production design by Anton Furst) to the unconventional casting of Michael Keaton as the Caped Crusader, screen legend Jack Nicholson as the Joker, and the now-famous--and wordless--marketing emblem with the black bat symbol caged in gold.

While not perfect, the film is poetically symbolic in terms of characters with duel personalities, as well as themes of terror and danger, heroism and villainy, and the provocative debate over which character creates which. Burton played a key role in this seminal redefining, and Batman holds up to this day, despite its old-fashioned moviemaking techniques and Prince music.

Edward Scissorhands (1990) 
Between two Batman films, Burton found time to bring to the screen a more personal pet project, one that goes back to a drawing he made as a teenager. A contemporary version of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein set in suburban America (based off of the director's hometown of Burbank, CA), Edward Scissorhands is also a modern-day fairy tale. It illustrates Burton's recurring theme of lonely social outcasts--in this case, an artificial and incomplete man (Johnny Depp) with razors for hands, who is taken in by a kindhearted Avon lady (Dianne Weist) and falls in love with her teenage daughter (Winona Ryder).

Like the titular character, the film is imperfect. Unfortunately, it contains some unnecessary sexual content (one scene has a sultry neighbor trying to seduce Edward). It's also a bit violent, depressing, and ultimately bittersweet. But there are some beautiful moments, such as the memorable scene of Ryder angelically dancing in the snow (set to Danny Elfman's amazing score).

Burton would go on to direct other fantasy features (some if them period pieces) like Big Fish (2003), Alice in Wonderland (2010), and Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children (2016). But he may not have made those films had it not been for Edward Scissorhands (ditto screenwriter/frequent collaborator Caroline Thompson), which still contains an odd sweetness and heartache unlike anything the visionary director had tackled before.
 
Batman Returns (1992) *
Burton stepped into the director's chair once again for a second Batman feature. Fittingly titled Batman Returns (but only just), this is a darker and more grotesque tale of characters with animal-like instincts, split personalities, and misguided ambitions in an equally dark and violent world. Easily the most neo-noir and nightmarish of the original films--definitely not one for children or families--and an example of creative freedom going too far; not to mention, a script getting convoluted. (This really is more of "a Tim Burton film" than a Batman picture.) Still, there are intriguing themes and character studies of the enigmatic Batman/Bruce Wayne (Michael Keaton, once again), the nasty Penguin (Danny DeVito), and the razor-sharp Catwoman/Selina Kyle (Michelle Pfeiffer); not to mention slick and imaginative direction and production design. If only they could have given Keaton more screen time.

The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993) **
The Pumpkin King of Halloween town, Jack Skellington, tires of the same annual routine and longs for something different. When he discovers the magical land of Christmastown, he goes on a quest to kidnap Santa Claus and take over the holiday himself. That's the basic premise of Tim Burton's holiday-bending brainchild, which, to this day, remains a benchmark in the medium of stop-motion animation. The debate over whether this iconic fantasy is technically a Halloween film or a Christmas one is ongoing. On one hand, composer Danny Elfman (who also provides Jack's singing voice) confirmed in 2019 that it's the former, while director Henry Selick (who made his feature film debut here) confirmed in 2022 that it's both. 

I respectfully agree with Selick, which is why November is the most ideal time of the year to watch it--for those who regularly do, that is. Unlike other "Christmas"-centered films with otherwise dark subject matter (we're looking at you, Gremlins and Batman Returns), the arcs of Jack, rag doll Sally, and a cast of quirky, offbeat characters are compelling if misguided. (Keep in mind, it's the secular version of Christmas that's represented here.) The art direction seamlessly combines German expressionism, Dr. Seuss, and contemporary suburbia, considering the film's thoroughly-imaginative, creative, and often scary world. (Burton would make other stop-motion features and/or musicals, including the Victorian-era Corpse Bride [2005], the animated film version of his live-action short Frankenweenie [2012], and a live-action version of Roald Dahl's Charlie and the Chocolate Factory [2005].)

TRIVIAL FACT: Nightmare was originally released under the Disney Studios' Touchstone Pictures label, with executives believing it would be too scary for kids. In subsequent years, it's been rebranded as a "Disney" film, but probably not one you would want to subject younger kids to quite yet, what with a few creepy musical numbers about kidnapping Santa and taking over Christmas. 

Ed Wood (1994)
Burton found his niche in the biopic genre with this fact-based story of Edward D. Wood, Jr., considered by many to be the worst film director of all-time. Played flawlessly by Johnny Depp (in his second collaboration with Burton), Ed Wood is about a passionate though naive and eccentric filmmaker (he would reportedly do scenes in no more than one take, and was even a cross-dresser), who went on to direct such hated pictures as Glen or Glenda and Plan 9 From Outer Space.

A love letter to B-movie cinema rather than a send-up of it, Ed Wood is the kind of film that pleases die-hard cinephiles. It also features an Oscar-winning performance by Martin Landau as the legendary, aging, and troubling Bela Lugosi (thanks to Rick Baker's award-winning makeup). This notion of B-movie-making also played into Burton's next feature, the star-studded but mean-spirited sci-fi/special-effects parody Mars Attacks! (1996). He wouldn't return to the biopic genre for another twenty years, when Ed Wood screenwriters Scott Alexander and Larry Karaszewski penned Big Eyes (2014), based on the true story of painter Margaret Keane.

Billy Crudup and Albert Finney in Big Fish

Burton's subsequent works have been hit-or-miss--some critically-successful, some financially-successful, sometimes both. Some recommended; others, not so much. But one thing is for certain: much like Steven Spielberg, Alfred Hitchcock, Quentin Tarantino, and Christopher Nolan, nobody makes films quite like Tim Burton, no matter how strange and unusual.

WRITER'S NOTE: *originally posted on "Film FreeQ" blog March 27, 2016 **originally posted on Instagram @film_freeq page November 5, 2022

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