Tim Burton’s latest, Big Eyes, starring Amy Adams and Christoph Waltz, is simplistic to a fault, but an enjoyable ride.
Even as his work grows pastiche, Tim Burton’s style continues to grasp an oddly mesmerizing appeal. However, there’s rarely any consistency to Burton’s output, at least in terms of quality. His sensitively acute cinematic world is gobstopping at its best and irritating at its worst, and his latest, Big Eyes, falls somewhere in between.
Struggling artist Margaret (Amy Adams), with her recently deflated marriage and young daughter, feels she’s hit the lottery when initially crossing paths with Walter Keane (Christoph Waltz), a fellow divorcee also struggling to define his artistic career. Quickly married while making what little change they can from their work, the Keane family unexpectedly gains good fortunes when Margaret’s saucer-eyed paintings become a global sensation.
Margaret becomes one of the most beloved artists of her time, but she doesn’t have any recognition on the matter due to Walter taking it upon himself to receive all the fame and fortune of her odd work, thanks to his marketing suave and good charm. For the sake of profits and legal affairs, she keeps her mouth shut, over time her silence begins to find a voice.
When exploring Margaret’s personality and internal struggles, Big Eyes falls short. A variety of her life events are glossed over in favor of pacing, and many people in her life, as well as in Walter’s, are characterized to their most simplistic. As such, Burton’s biopic feels fractured, slicing and dicing only the most economic moments in Margaret’s life for the sake of time. Although this is certainly generous in terms of timing, it halts the movie from obtaining its truly compelling potential.
If one were to view Burton’s latest as purely a fluff piece, something of a time capsule with pop and spunk, then there’s some good fun to gleam from here. The movie sizzles in its colors and time setting, and the ’50s/’60s-based art direction from Chris August is —of course — its best feature. Equally as grand are the movie’s costume and production designs, from Colleen Atwood and Rick Heinrichs respectively, as well as Burton’s regular composer Danny Elfman giving his most delightfully pulsating-yet-diligently-supervised scores in some time.
There’s also nary a moment in Big Eyes where the visuals don’t transfix, blooming with carnal intensity, thanks largely to cinematographer Bruno Delbonnel’s (Inside Llewyn Davis) wondrous recreation of the time period and its love for everything blisteringly eye-popping. The artistry behind the camera work gives the movie a booming sense of character, while also making sure it doesn’t distract or take away from the story at hand. It’s an extremely tough juggle the film surprisingly pulls off.
For all its zippiness, though, Big Eyes gets way too broad as it goes along. While its heightened sense of humor adds to its entertainment value in select moments, the wacky mentality only occasionally gels with its soft protagonist’s reality. The biggest example of this is Waltz, entering as a charmingly compelling figure and exiting basically a Looney Tunes villain. He’s never less than amusing, though, whether intentionally or not, and always looks like he’s having a ball. Ultimately, the diligence and care Burton brought to Ed Wood seems more appropriate for this kind of tale. That comedic drama’s askew yet dry sense of humor feels more in tone with this fellow journey of artists defining themselves.
Adams is a saving grace here, bringing an equal amount on contemplation and somberness to her role that’s never less than enchanting or heartbreaking. Also turning in some nicely underused supporting performances are Terence Stamp, playing a New York Times senior art critic with a wonderful talent for dry scorn, and Jon Polito, a club owner played by a character actor woefully underused in this business.
While Big Eyes is disappointingly low-tier Burton, one cannot fault it for lacking pulse or compassion. His signature style never gets in the way of his storytelling, and in fact only makes the movie better. Burton certainly can do better with this kind of material. But it’s still breezier, more agreeable, and better paced than a majority of Burton’s recent affairs, save for his last, Frankenweenie, which remains one of Burton’s best in years. In addition, it’s not as aggravating as Alice in Wonderland and Dark Shadows. That should definitely comfort Burton fans everywhere.
Rating: 3/5 stars
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