Faith through Film and Fiction

When I think of Tim Burton films, I think of either a) batman or b) creepy Johnny Depp movies. The former has respectable stature as an action film, and while I can appreciate Tim Burton's style which usually shows in the latter, I'm not really a fan of it, though many of his films are certainly good and unique for what they are.

That said, never would I have thought that the director behind Edward Scissorhands, Sweeny Todd, Beetlejuice, and let's not forget Pee-Wee's Big Adventure was also behind Big Eyes. Given that this film seemed to have Tim Burton's creepiness on the down low, and moreover that it starred Christoph Waltz, I figured I'd choose to watch this one.

From first impressions, one could tell this was not a typical Tim Burton film. Between the direction, cinematography, and just the premise itself of Margaret Keane (Amy Adams) being subject to her husband Walter (Christoph Waltz) taking all of the credit for her paintings, notable for their big eyes. The only thing remotely Burton-esque was the soundtrack, which was noticeable and subtle when needed respectively, and suitably eerie when it could get away with it. However, Lana Del Rey's song of the same title as the film was absolutely dreadful even for the brief few seconds it played in the movie. The movie is for the most part fluid, and although it tries nothing ambitious or novel, it was well put together and includes suitable and justified commentaries about art and the contrast between 1950's and 1960's society, while Burton, rightly, does not go into deep dissertations or tangents on a particular criticism. Though the film is mainly about Margaret's oppression and evolution to finally culminate into a courtroom trial, the dynamics of her character are faintly underscored by the changing, loosening morals and customs arising at the turn of the decade. A more ambitious director would have done more with this; however, given that this film is not within Burton's usual style, it was reasonable to do little with such a risky area. Special note also to the ironic development (or perhaps, revelation) of Walter Keane's character, who at the end claims with fervor his wife needs psychiatric help consequent of her claims in court, though he is shown throughout the film to be emotionally unstable, a compulsive liar, and an egotistical megalomaniac. I am concerned, however, that Waltz is in danger of being typecasted as a result of his "oddbal Austrain" disposition.

I did not care for one particular device Burton chose to use: voice-over narration. Though I don't have a problem with voice-over narration in principle (unless it goes completely overboard like Casino), In this movie it seemed unnecessary at best and overall distracting, especially given that it comes from the point of view of a small-time journalist who makes perhaps four appearances in the movie and says no more than two lines in each of them.

My other major complaint with the movie is that Burton seemed to rush to the last act of the film as a result of an irrational fear that the movie was moving too slowly, which at the point he chose to "fix" it was far too late to deal with a pacing issue. So conveniently is the turpentine paint thinner placed by the door's keyhole so that Walter might push a few matches through to set the art studio ablaze in his blind, unfettered, and misguided rage at his wife, so that Maragaret and her daughter Jane can abandon Walter and all money and possessions only to magically reappear a year later in Honolulu, where Margaret somehow manages to do quite well for herself and her daughter.

Overall it was a good watch, and my hat is off to Tim Burton for this radical change in direction for him, and being able to execute such a fluid and enjoyable film very well.

7/10, would not watch again (Not that it was bad, just that I wouldn't find any value in re-watching it)