Big Eyes

Tim Burton – 2014 – USA

Big Eyes is the best film Tim Burton could have made at the moment; it’s a cleansing-of-the-palate type of movie.  Though I happen to have liked Dark Shadows (2012) and loved Frankenweenie (2012), both were considered run-of-the-mill and mostly unexceptional by critics and audiences.  For the most part, Burton has been perceived as phoning it in for a while, making flamboyant versions of famous tales with Johnny Depp and/or wife Helena Bonham-Carter plugged into various roles haphazardly.  I can’t argue with that very strongly, but I can just say that even a weaker Burton film interests me more than most A-list films because at least he’s doing things that interest him and that put his passions on display, not just renting himself out as a journeyman director of typical Hollywood fare.  Written by the same team behind Burton’s 20-year-old masterpiece Ed Wood (1994), Scott Alexander and Larry Karaszewski, Big Eyes is similarly a light drama about the artistic struggle.  Amy Adams is Margaret Keane, creator of the famous kitsch paintings of doe-eyed waifs for which her conniving husband Walter Keane (Christophe Waltz) took sole credit for many years.  The film is not a searing drama begging for Oscars like it would be in the hands of anyone else; and though closely aligned with Margaret the entire way, (and may even be a little skewed in unquestioningly portraying Walter as an ogre), the film is neither preachy nor sentimental.  Much like Ed Wood also, Big Eyes exists in an alternate world, seen with Burton-colored glasses; a world in which crime and sleaze may be distantly around the corner and where unaffected artists can remain safely insulated and naïve.  Both films use true stories to convey a message that is meaningful to Burton; that art comes from an eccentric vision that warrants expression whether or not the world gets it.  I enjoyed the brazenly colorful and nostalgic depiction of San Francisco in the 50s and 60s; a style that is so at odds with the dingy look of most supposedly “realistic” movies.  Mostly what comes through warmly and effectively is Burton’s special empathy with misunderstood artists who may go years or even a lifetime without being appreciated.  “It’s still worth it,” he is telling us; “It has to be.”