In the run-up to the release of Dark Shadows, I read and even engaged in several online discussions on the films and creative merits of Tim Burton. He’s been called many things: a genius, a hack, a sellout, a loose cannon, and even a has-been. People fault him for doing the same films and casting the same people over and over again, while others continue to admire his signature gothic style and whimsical humor. I acknowledge his strengths and weaknesses and find a lot of those opinions valid and reasonable.
Now here’s where I stand, I am a big fan of his work. Along with Steven Spielberg, Joe Dante, and Robert Zemeckis, he belongs to that elite group that I like to call “gateway filmmakers” for it was in their films that got me hooked into taking an interest in cinema and later on filmmaking in general. I remember growing up watching Edward Scissorhands, the Batman films and The Nightmare Before Christmas (though technically it’s a Henry Selick film, but one can’t deny him being its main creative force) as a kid and then discovering a lot of his films later on.
From his debut feature Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure to the gothic horror adaptation of Sleepy Hollow, it was a pretty impressive streak just bursting with lots of twisted imagination. The outcasts and misfits that populated his works combined with the dark and surreal visuals really resonated with my impressionable repressed young self. Like the French New filmmakers of old and the Tarantinos and Andersons of new, he somehow found a way to make his many obsessions and interests create something unique and lively on the screen, enough to filter it through the audience to make them really care and appreciate that stuff. German Expressionism, Hammer Horror, ’50s B-movies, Vincent Price, you name it.
Then came his “re-imagination” of Planet of the Apes, and with that, his output started to go not necessarily downhill but become even more erratic. Whenever he takes a step forward towards artistic maturity, he then takes two steps back towards auto pilot “doing it for the easy paycheck” mode. For every Big Fish, Corpse Bride, and Sweeney Todd, he gives us Planet of the Apes, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and Alice in Wonderland. Planet of the Apes and Alice in Wonderland are the only 2 Burton films I didn’t like at all. The former didn’t feel like a Burton film at all and the absurd twist at the end didn’t help matters, while the latter suffers from the fact that it tried to take seriously and add some semblance of logic and reason to a well known material that was meant to be absurd and nonsensical in the first place. Not to mention the whole look of the film felt too gaudy even by Burton standards. In fairness to Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, I did like some of the little variations in the adaptation and it fairly complements the original adaptation starring Gene Wilder in that the 1972 version takes too long to begin while the 2005 version takes too long to end.
It’s also an unfortunate coincidence that this also started to happen around the time he left his longtime muse Lisa Marie (whatever happened to her anyway?) for his now wife Helena Bonham Carter. Nothing against Carter, I like her quirky roles and she’s just as good a foil for Burton, but it was also around this time I notice that Burton began to overindulge too much in his unrestrained creative inhibitions. What was once his main asset started to become his main liability among the critical consensus. He also took advantage of Johnny Depp’s then-recent career resurgence by casting him in every single film of his after Big Fish. I’m also a big fan of Depp, but his continued association with Burton may be starting to make him even more creatively lethargic in his other non-Burton projects. It never really bothered me at first, but at this point, both Carter and Depp are already overexposed as it is. Burton should take a cue from Federico Fellini who at least took a break from casting his wife Giuletta Masina and his other muse Marcello Mastroianni in his films. It would be nice to see him collaborate with Michael Keaton again, he was great in Beetlejuice (especially considering the title character’s minimal screen time) and he really surprised a lot of people in the Batman films.
I’m still a fan of Burton to this day, but it’s just really disappointing that he has been resting on his old laurels for too long. I’ve been to the Tim Burton exhibition at the LACMA last year, and from what I’ve seen, it highlights how much of a wild, fervent and demented imagination he possesses. It really shows that he is capable of so much more, which is why we expect more from him. Unfortunately, he is at the same stage as Andy Warhol in his later career: a victim of his own success, a hostage to his own image and style, churning out works of an impersonal, cookie-cutter, commercial variety for commission.
One final note, I saw Dark Shadows. All I can say was that it was a slight improvement over Alice in Wonderland though it would led to this realization you have now of where I stand in how I feel about Tim Burton.
