When Helena Bonham Carter recently gave birth to Tim Burton's baby and settled down to blissful (if presumably slightly quirky) family life, it finally dawned on me that we were probably not going to end up together. This was a thumping blow to say the least I have carried a torch for Britain's most elegant and enigmatic actress ever since she flapped her arms about in a cornfield in Room With a View in 1986 - and I knew that if I was to finally allow myself to move on, I would need to stop thinking of Burton as a scheming, manipulative freak-show who was holding my precious English rose against her will and just be happy for the pair of them. So I stopped sticking pins in my crudely crafted Burton effigy and began to grudgingly concede that he was actually a pretty good director.
Still, he doesn't half take liberties with his missus: Not content with turning her into a talking gorilla in Planet of the Apes, his latest offering, Big Fish, has her playing both a scabby, one-eyed witch and a wistful middle-aged spinster who couldn't even lure Ewan McGregor into the sack.
Bonham Carter is not the only one readily jumping through hoops for Burton in this movie. He has a knack of creating unique and irresistible characters that light up his narrative and captivate his audiences. Why has nobody else ever cast Danny DeVito as a pint-sized, moustache-twirling ringleader or Steve Buscemi as terrible poet-cum-bank robber? What other director could assemble such a blistering supporting cast in what is essentially a glorified fairy tale? Big Fish was never the sort of project that was going to win truckloads of academy awards the reason the cream of Hollywood are queuing up to be in his films is not one of artistic recognition, but because it looks like it would be a bloody good laugh.
What is also clear is that if you happen to land one of the plumb roles, you strive with every sinew to make the most of it. Albert Finney plays Edward Bloom: Charismatic, popular and richly entertaining, but dying of cancer. Billy Crudup is his son Will, who has endured a life of drudgery by comparison. Will is fed-up with his father's preposterous tales and it eventually drives them apart. As it becomes obvious Edward has only a short time to live, Will seeks reconciliation and acknowledgement from his father that his stories are all whopping great lies.
But Edward is a stubborn bugger and maintains that he only ever speaks the truth. And so, his history is recounted in a succession of vivid flashbacks where we follow his younger self (Ewan McGregor) through a life that was certainly less ordinary and frankly (to Will anyway) pretty unlikely. Young Edward, it seems, was a gifted individual to say the least: His anecdotes include a long list of sporting accolades; tussles with witches and giants; joining the circus and falling in love; escaping from the far East with the help of Siamese twin cabaret singers and saving a whole town from debt and destitution.
The tales are brought to life by Finney's sparkling voice-overs and McGregor's wide-eyed enthusiasm Edward Bloom's past is Tim Burton's Wonderland; The town of Spectre, Alabama is his Bedford Falls, 'a place so great, nobody ever leaves!'
References and sly nods are scattered everywhere and colour and imagery stream out of every set. Here it is the present that is dreary and sepia. Edward, stymied in his later years through the relentless march of time and eventually bedridden, lives vicariously through his splendid reminiscences. Because, as Will eventually realises, his father is not interested in showing off or telling porkies he just wants to remember the good times.
Big Fish is about cherishing memories. In Burton's book they can be as rose-tinted as you like. The cold facts are not important; feelings are what count. How he can pull off such an unapologetically sentimental motto like that without drowning in a fetid swamp of cheese and schmaltz is anybody's guess. But he does, and with his own inimitable aplomb. Burton just has this incredible imagination (although it helps that he is as mad as a snake).
My final word must rest with Helena. These pages are laced with praise for the entire cast of Big Fish. All the aforementioned actors deserve credit as well as Alison Lohman and Jessica Lange as the young and old incarnations of Edward's wife Sandra (Lange in particular is the foxiest pensioner you are ever likely to meet), but Bonham Carter proves once and for all she is one of the most talented and versatile actresses currently around. Once mocked as being fit only for corsets and period drama, she has laughed off the criticism and taken a series of challenging and thought-provoking roles. She is not afraid to experiment or risk looking silly and has a laissez faire attitude to stardom that is as admirable as it is unusual. If this film is Burton's homage to his new family lifestyle then it is a fitting tribute indeed.
OK, now I have closure.
9/10
Still, he doesn't half take liberties with his missus: Not content with turning her into a talking gorilla in Planet of the Apes, his latest offering, Big Fish, has her playing both a scabby, one-eyed witch and a wistful middle-aged spinster who couldn't even lure Ewan McGregor into the sack.
Bonham Carter is not the only one readily jumping through hoops for Burton in this movie. He has a knack of creating unique and irresistible characters that light up his narrative and captivate his audiences. Why has nobody else ever cast Danny DeVito as a pint-sized, moustache-twirling ringleader or Steve Buscemi as terrible poet-cum-bank robber? What other director could assemble such a blistering supporting cast in what is essentially a glorified fairy tale? Big Fish was never the sort of project that was going to win truckloads of academy awards the reason the cream of Hollywood are queuing up to be in his films is not one of artistic recognition, but because it looks like it would be a bloody good laugh.
What is also clear is that if you happen to land one of the plumb roles, you strive with every sinew to make the most of it. Albert Finney plays Edward Bloom: Charismatic, popular and richly entertaining, but dying of cancer. Billy Crudup is his son Will, who has endured a life of drudgery by comparison. Will is fed-up with his father's preposterous tales and it eventually drives them apart. As it becomes obvious Edward has only a short time to live, Will seeks reconciliation and acknowledgement from his father that his stories are all whopping great lies.
But Edward is a stubborn bugger and maintains that he only ever speaks the truth. And so, his history is recounted in a succession of vivid flashbacks where we follow his younger self (Ewan McGregor) through a life that was certainly less ordinary and frankly (to Will anyway) pretty unlikely. Young Edward, it seems, was a gifted individual to say the least: His anecdotes include a long list of sporting accolades; tussles with witches and giants; joining the circus and falling in love; escaping from the far East with the help of Siamese twin cabaret singers and saving a whole town from debt and destitution.
The tales are brought to life by Finney's sparkling voice-overs and McGregor's wide-eyed enthusiasm Edward Bloom's past is Tim Burton's Wonderland; The town of Spectre, Alabama is his Bedford Falls, 'a place so great, nobody ever leaves!'
References and sly nods are scattered everywhere and colour and imagery stream out of every set. Here it is the present that is dreary and sepia. Edward, stymied in his later years through the relentless march of time and eventually bedridden, lives vicariously through his splendid reminiscences. Because, as Will eventually realises, his father is not interested in showing off or telling porkies he just wants to remember the good times.
Big Fish is about cherishing memories. In Burton's book they can be as rose-tinted as you like. The cold facts are not important; feelings are what count. How he can pull off such an unapologetically sentimental motto like that without drowning in a fetid swamp of cheese and schmaltz is anybody's guess. But he does, and with his own inimitable aplomb. Burton just has this incredible imagination (although it helps that he is as mad as a snake).
My final word must rest with Helena. These pages are laced with praise for the entire cast of Big Fish. All the aforementioned actors deserve credit as well as Alison Lohman and Jessica Lange as the young and old incarnations of Edward's wife Sandra (Lange in particular is the foxiest pensioner you are ever likely to meet), but Bonham Carter proves once and for all she is one of the most talented and versatile actresses currently around. Once mocked as being fit only for corsets and period drama, she has laughed off the criticism and taken a series of challenging and thought-provoking roles. She is not afraid to experiment or risk looking silly and has a laissez faire attitude to stardom that is as admirable as it is unusual. If this film is Burton's homage to his new family lifestyle then it is a fitting tribute indeed.
OK, now I have closure.
9/10