Tim Burton has taken a rare step back to the real world with Big Eyes, his interpretation of the true story of painter Margaret Keane, who delighted America with her big eyed paintings of waifs; not that her admiring public knew it was her work they adored. Margaret had the misfortune to be married to a failed painter, Walter, who claimed her work as his own and turned her simple, critically derided work into an art phenomenon. As Margaret makes Walter richer, the art world mauls her work further, Walter's ego expands and her self-confidence and self-worth diminish exponentially.
Initially, it appears as though Burton has eschewed has comfortable world of pure fantasy to deliver a rare, based-on-truth drama with Big Eyes. The trouble is, fantasy runs freely through his veins and though he may have been filled with good intentions, Big Eyes spins out of control into a fantastical farce. The story is extraordinary, the court case and outcome a matter of public record, but Burton seems incapable of sticking to the truth and telling it straight. Is this a classic case of life imitating art with Tim Burton becoming a real life Ed Bloom? What comes after Big Eyes and Big Fish? Big Incredulity?
Though not unexpected, it is a lovely touch when we see both Margaret (Amy Adams) and random strangers through her eyes, with over-sized orbs in their heads. Likewise, the early scenes of her driving along a twisting, country road through scenery that looks like a beautiful painting is a wonderful hint of her fertile imagination altering her own reality. But Burton doesn't leave it at that. Early on, scenes lift ever so slightly away from reality until, when we reach the legal scenes, what appears upon the screen is a ridiculous slapstick production bouncing around a kangaroo court.
Whilst it may be (briefly) amusing, it detracts from the truth of the mental cruelty and abuse that Margaret suffered for a decade at the hands of Walter (Christoph Waltz). For the duration of those flippant, stupid scenes I had to restrain myself from yelling at the fool in the judge's chair, "Why don't you make them both paint NOW?" Are those scenes really factually accurate? If so, I hope to god I never find myself on trial in Hawaii.
Burton is coasting here. The challenge would have been for him to shoot Big Eyes as a serious, heartfelt story but he lacks the courage to climb out of his comfort zone and deliver the emotional punch that Margaret's story deserves.
Throughout Big Eyes, it feels as though Burton has borrowed or swapped rather than created. The early shots of Margaret's neighbourhood are straight out of Edward Scissorhands and though it is fine to reminisce, I really want something new from him now.
More disturbingly, Burton has exchanged over the top non-stop ham Johnny Depp with over the top non-stop ham Christoph Waltz. Everything Waltz does (here and in everything else of late) is expansive. He doesn't present us with an unpleasant, controlling, overbearing monster but a larger than life pantomime villain with buffoonery oozing out of every pore. Really? Where is the sinister behavior that forces a woman to lose her friends and lie to her daughter for over a decade?
Even Burton's rare attempts at subtlety go awry here. Watch out for the least subtle cameo (of the real Margaret Keane) since Peter Jackson stomped across the screen loudly chomping on a carrot. As for Lana Del Rey's musical offerings, they jar and are too frequent to be anything other than overkill. Fortunately, they cannot detract from Danny Elfman's wonderful score that is the least imposing aspect of Big Eyes and the most pleasing element beyond Amy Adams valiant attempt at sincerity in the midst of the farce.
With low expectation and no knowledge of the truth, Big Eyes is a pleasant, fun film that, like all of Burton's work, looks fantastic. But it is a hollow experience that could have been adequately unfolded in a sixty minute TV drama and certainly not worthy of a second viewing. Like Margaret's paintings, Big Eyes has its place but is a long way from being fine art. Unfortunately for Tim Burton, Margaret's paintings are likely to be far more enduring than this piece of flimflam.
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Initially, it appears as though Burton has eschewed has comfortable world of pure fantasy to deliver a rare, based-on-truth drama with Big Eyes. The trouble is, fantasy runs freely through his veins and though he may have been filled with good intentions, Big Eyes spins out of control into a fantastical farce. The story is extraordinary, the court case and outcome a matter of public record, but Burton seems incapable of sticking to the truth and telling it straight. Is this a classic case of life imitating art with Tim Burton becoming a real life Ed Bloom? What comes after Big Eyes and Big Fish? Big Incredulity?
Though not unexpected, it is a lovely touch when we see both Margaret (Amy Adams) and random strangers through her eyes, with over-sized orbs in their heads. Likewise, the early scenes of her driving along a twisting, country road through scenery that looks like a beautiful painting is a wonderful hint of her fertile imagination altering her own reality. But Burton doesn't leave it at that. Early on, scenes lift ever so slightly away from reality until, when we reach the legal scenes, what appears upon the screen is a ridiculous slapstick production bouncing around a kangaroo court.
Whilst it may be (briefly) amusing, it detracts from the truth of the mental cruelty and abuse that Margaret suffered for a decade at the hands of Walter (Christoph Waltz). For the duration of those flippant, stupid scenes I had to restrain myself from yelling at the fool in the judge's chair, "Why don't you make them both paint NOW?" Are those scenes really factually accurate? If so, I hope to god I never find myself on trial in Hawaii.
Burton is coasting here. The challenge would have been for him to shoot Big Eyes as a serious, heartfelt story but he lacks the courage to climb out of his comfort zone and deliver the emotional punch that Margaret's story deserves.
Throughout Big Eyes, it feels as though Burton has borrowed or swapped rather than created. The early shots of Margaret's neighbourhood are straight out of Edward Scissorhands and though it is fine to reminisce, I really want something new from him now.
More disturbingly, Burton has exchanged over the top non-stop ham Johnny Depp with over the top non-stop ham Christoph Waltz. Everything Waltz does (here and in everything else of late) is expansive. He doesn't present us with an unpleasant, controlling, overbearing monster but a larger than life pantomime villain with buffoonery oozing out of every pore. Really? Where is the sinister behavior that forces a woman to lose her friends and lie to her daughter for over a decade?
Even Burton's rare attempts at subtlety go awry here. Watch out for the least subtle cameo (of the real Margaret Keane) since Peter Jackson stomped across the screen loudly chomping on a carrot. As for Lana Del Rey's musical offerings, they jar and are too frequent to be anything other than overkill. Fortunately, they cannot detract from Danny Elfman's wonderful score that is the least imposing aspect of Big Eyes and the most pleasing element beyond Amy Adams valiant attempt at sincerity in the midst of the farce.
With low expectation and no knowledge of the truth, Big Eyes is a pleasant, fun film that, like all of Burton's work, looks fantastic. But it is a hollow experience that could have been adequately unfolded in a sixty minute TV drama and certainly not worthy of a second viewing. Like Margaret's paintings, Big Eyes has its place but is a long way from being fine art. Unfortunately for Tim Burton, Margaret's paintings are likely to be far more enduring than this piece of flimflam.
For more reviews from The Squiss, subscribe to my blog and like the Facebook page.