Forbidden Donut

Back in the 80s and 90s, Tim Burton became a celebrity director because he was the man with vision and originality. Here was a man with the bravery to go where no one else would, and to show us worlds that revealed the cookie-cutter Hollywood filmmaking industry for the soulless, uninventive mechanism it was.

Edward Scissorhands, Beetlejuice, and even the first two Batman films, we saw something that was dark, off-color, and edgy. Insane characters, plot elements that intentionally didn't make sense, and a style that no one had really seen before... it all seemed so new and refreshing!

The thing is... Burton always is and always was a one-trick pony. James Cameron had great success with liquid characters in The Abyss and T2: Judgment Day... but he moved on. Scorsese had success after success pairing Robert De Niro with Joe Pesci and making them swear at each other a lot... but not any more. David Fincher worked wonders more than once by putting Brad Pitt in the middle of a gritty tale with a shocking ending... but not for every film.

Meanwhile, we've all come to know Tim Burton's shtick. The Gothic imagery, the spirals, the Danny Elfman soundtrack, the insistence on casting Johnny Depp and/or Helena Bonham Carter regardless of whether or not they fit the role they were paired with... and on top of it all, Hollywood has adapted, they know that "dark" sells... so we get "dark" films about teenage wizards and "dark" films about vampires that sparkle... so Burton's no longer unique, and now we see just how limited he really is. It's like M. Knight Shymalan's "What a Twist!", only sadder because for a decade or two Burton actually kept up the illusion that he had something to offer.

What's more, even Burton's associates have learned how to do his own shtick better than he can any more - just look at Henry Selick's Coraline and compare it to Burton's Corpse Bride. Both films build on the same stop-motion style that made The Nightmare Before Christmas a cult classic, but while Corpse Bride seems old and tired right from the start, Coraline actually has the same freshness that made TNBC so great - the plot is inspired (though that's undoubtedly Neil Gaiman's doing), the characters are likable, and the visuals maintain the dark and creepy feel without being afraid to show wondrous, vibrant color. It was like Selick took from Burton what he felt worked, and then built on it instead of just staying there for eternity like Burton seems content to do.

What's really sad is that Burton could be a good director again if he learned how to abandon his tired old techniques. Big Fish was a damn good film, but it largely wasn't Burton's off-kilter flashbacks that made it so wonderful - it was the firmly-grounded story about a man having trouble understanding his father that gave the film the emotional foundation to make it work. As fun as it may have been to watch Ewan McGregor's wacky adventures throughout the flashbacks, it was Billy Crudup and Albert Finney's scenes that explored something interesting and worthwhile - the characters.

If Tim Burton truly is capable of making a film with characters who are interesting, complex, grounded, and who the audience can identify and sympathize with, one wonders why Burton still feels the need to stick to his old tricks. In fact, he seems terrified to let the characters blossom, and seems compelled to emphasize his films' Burtonesque qualities rather than letting the films stand on their own. It seems like what Burton fears most is his own inability to tell a story without his grab-bag of gimmicks, and if the man truly does have some worthwhile stories to tell, that is a tragedy beyond any damage done to Alice, Willy Wonka, and their ilk.

Perhaps someday Burton will grow a pair, artistically, and mature as a director enough to leave behind his staples and actually explore the art of storytelling rather than the art of applying his brand of paint to every story he touches. If we ever see that day, I suspect we may be given reason to celebrate Burton once again... but until then, we can only shake our heads in the sad knowledge that he has become the lack of originality that he once seemed to be the antithesis of.