Showing posts with label Tim Burton. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tim Burton. Show all posts

Friday, April 12, 2013

Dark Shadows (2012) v. The Addams Family (1991)

Tim Burton’s Dark Shadows and Barry Sonnenfeld’s The Addams Family are the same movie. Both are films adapted from television shows from the 1960. They involve similar plots, similar themes, similar sets and even similar gags. Both are good films too, though The Addams Family ultimately proves far superior. Here’s why.


** spoiler alert **

Let’s start with the similarities. Dark Shadows is the story of Barnabas Collins (Johnny Depp), who is a vampire who returns to his family home after two-hundred years locked in a coffin. His family has fallen on hard times because they’ve been cursed by the same witch (Eva Green as Angelique Bouchard) who turned him into a vampire and locked him in the coffin. He must work his way back into the family and must save them from the witch. By comparison, The Addams Family is the story of Fester Addams (Christopher Lloyd), who is the older brother of Gomez Addams (Raul Julia). He disappeared years before and now has returned to the family home to find his place again. Only, Fester is under the control of Abigail Craven, who is supposedly his mother but is more of a fraudster. As with Barnabus, Fester must learn to fit in with his family and then must save them from his mother.
As you can see, both films involve the return of missing heirs who must work their way back into families in which they don’t quite fit and both must save their families from evil women intent on stealing their fortunes and destroying their families. Both films even follow the same plot diagram: outsider arrives and family must adapt... adversary revealed... as the outsider begins to fit it, the adversary strikes and appears to win... the family must come together to regain their fortune and overcome the adversary.

The themes are the same too. Both families are out-of-place in the modern world. They are strange, with strange customs, and both are disliked by the outside world. They are seen as freaks – both families actually are a mix of normal humans and the supernatural. Both families also have a hint of being anachronistic, with both feeling somewhat Victorian in style and manner. This gets confused a little in Dark Shadows because Depp’s character is 200 years old and thus all the jokes about being abnormal are at his expense, but if you look at the family alone, you will see that they don’t feel “modern” either compared to the rest of the world either – Burton adds another layer of anachronistic-confusion on top of this by setting Dark Shadows in the 1970s and playing it as a sort of period piece.
Both films also involve lost family members trying to fit back into their families. The tensions are reversed in the films, with the Addams family welcoming Fester back, even though he feels he doesn’t belong, and Depp forcing himself back into the Collins family, which doesn’t want him, but the end result is nearly identical themes of acceptance and families growing together.

All of this, makes these films essentially the same movie. Nevertheless, there are key differences which make The Addams Family the much better film.

Tone: Despite similar themes and both films being comedies, their tones are rather different. Dark Shadows has a darker tone. It is driven by drama rather than humor, particularly the miserableness of the Collins family, and its humor comes from insults, from injury, and from the good guys being made to feel uncomfortable. The Addams Family does the reverse. The Addams Family is driven by how the Addamses happily endure in their own little world, untouched by reality. Its humor is based on the family succeeding in ridiculous ways, on the frustration of the bad guys, and on the avoidance of injuries. This results in Dark Shadows being much darker. But since the darker tone isn’t really used to achieve anything interesting, this only makes the film harder to enjoy.

Dark Shadows also suffers from a bit of schizophrenia in that it never can decide if it’s more comedy or more drama. Burton also floods the film with musical interludes of 1970s music, which are just too long. It feels like Burton is copying Goodfellas, but it never meshes with the film and it hurts the comedic timing.
Characters: Although both films involve unusual characters in outlandish situations, Dark Shadows doesn’t capitalize on this nearly as well as The Addams Family, because Dark Shadows doesn’t give its characters much freedom. Essentially, Dark Shadows focuses entirely on Johnny Depp, with Depp either dominating the screen or the other actors waiting for him to arrive. Thus, despite the fact the character list includes a werewolf, a ghost, a reincarnated woman who sees ghosts, a thieving father, and a witch, none of these characters ever becomes all that interesting.

By comparison, you remember all the characters in The Addams Family because each functions as a fully-formed person with their own storyline. Thus, throughout the movie, each of these characters engages in a variety of activities related solely to themselves, which gives each a chance to do memorable things. This, in turn, lets you enjoy each scene on its own, whereas many scenes in Dark Shadows feel like filler as you wait for Depp to do something.

Actors: The actors matter too. Raul Julia was Gomez Addams, Anjelica Huston was Morticia, and Christopher Lloyd was Uncle Fester. These actors immersed themselves in their roles and created characters who fit the needs of the story rather than playing themselves. Indeed, if you look at the other films done by Julia, Huston or Lloyd, you won’t find similar characters in any other film because the acting they did here was meant to portray the characters they played. The actors in Dark Shadows are not as convincing. For one thing, none of them except Depp have unique characters. They are simply “angry teenage girl” or “rotten father,” and the actors are all interchangeable. The one exception is Depp, but it really is starting to feel like Depp does the same character from film to film. Thus, while Gomez Addams felt like Gomez Addams, Barnabus Collins felt like Johnny Depp playing Captain JackWonkaHatter. This makes it harder to see the characters as real.
Cleverness: The final difference lies in the cleverness of the writing. The Addams Family involves some truly brilliant writing. It includes jokes that are hilarious and yet unexpected. It takes risks, as we discussed with Clue, by not dumbing it down. It ties its humor directly into the characters and the plot. It swerves between innuendo and child friendly, but in such a way that is safe for kids and hilarious for parents. And it uses some fantastic word play. Moreover, the storyline itself moves unexpectedly and, while you know how the story will end, you still never know how you will get there.

Dark Shadows, on the other hand, offers none of this. The humor in Dark Shadows is not witty, it is “fish out of water” humor, with Depp misunderstanding what the people around him are talking about. It is essentially him not understanding how a McDonalds sign lights up or that Alice Cooper is not a woman. The writer took no risks either as there is nothing here to make an audience think. There is so little about the writing that is memorable that I can’t even remember a favorite line. Further, everything in this film is expected. You know how the film will end. You know what each character must do before we get there. And you know exactly how things will play out.

When Depp goes to see the witch alone, you know he will be captured. You also know he will be freed at a critical moment to save the day. You know that Depp and Victoria will end up together even though there’s no chemistry between them (or even a relationship) because that’s what’s expected. You even know that Dr. Hoffman will not die when she’s tossed into the ocean... because that’s exactly what you would expect to happen. You see everything coming a mile away because this film does exactly what general audiences expect it to do.

In the end, both movies are good. Dark Shadows will keep your attention, it will make you laugh at times, and it doesn’t feel like anything else out there right now. So I do recommend it. But The Addams Family is far superior. It pulls you in much stronger and makes you care about the characters. You really come to like these people and you want to see more of them (hence, the sequel). If you can see only one comedy about a bizarre supernatural family this summer... make it The Addams Family.
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Thursday, November 8, 2012

Guest Review: Batman Returns (1992)

By ScottDS
Tim Burton’s 1989 Batman was a huge hit and ushered in a wave of superhero films, which, despite several peaks and valleys, shows no sign of stopping. It was inevitable that one of those films would be a Batman sequel and in 1992, Tim Burton and Warner Bros. gave us Batman Returns. This film was criticized for being too dark, too violent, and too focused on the villains. As a Batman film, I can see how it might disappoint people. As a Tim Burton film, I think it’s great.

A deformed penguin-like man, Oswald Cobblepot (Danny DeVito), blackmails crooked industrialist Max Shreck (Christopher Walken). They arrange to have the mayor’s child kidnapped so Cobblepot a.k.a. the Penguin, can come to the rescue and look like a hero to the citizens of Gotham City. Meanwhile, Shreck throws his meek secretary Selina Kyle (Michelle Pfeiffer) out a window after she discovers that his proposed power plant will actually drain power from the city. Selina survives the fall and, after a psychotic meltdown, takes on the identity of Catwoman, hellbent on revenge.
While Shreck tries to have the mayor recalled and the Penguin elected in his place, Bruce Wayne (Michael Keaton) and Selina share a fractured romance, despite the fact that Catwoman's in league with the Penguin to rid the city of Batman. After Batman ruins the Penguin’s political ambitions as well as his plan to kidnap all the first-born sons of Gotham, the Penguin decides to destroy the city using penguins armed with missiles. Batman diverts the missiles to the Penguin’s secret lair. Catwoman unmasks herself and kills Shreck (and presumably herself) via electrocution. The Penguin succumbs to his injuries and his emperor penguin troops carry him to a watery grave. The film ends, like the first film did, with the flash of the Bat-signal, only for Catwoman to appear instead…

I want to make a couple things clear: 1.) Despite being a member of the demographic, I’m not a comic book reader, so I have no idea what I’m missing or what the filmmakers should or should not have done, and 2.) I can accept the film on its own, without going back to any source material. (This doesn’t work all the time, though.) I like this film. In fact, there are even days where I like it better than the first film. I’m sympathetic to the criticisms and I wasn’t surprised when, during the DVD retrospective, screenwriter Daniel Waters - who rewrote Sam Hamm’s original script and whose script was, in turn, rewritten later - admitted to not being concerned with the mythology or what fans might want. In fact, the studio managed to persuade Tim Burton to sign on only when they promised him that he could make “a Tim Burton film starring Batman” as opposed to simply “a Batman film.” Burton has since justified some of his decisions. For instance, he always felt that the nature of Batman was such that he wouldn’t go around making grand speeches and other PR-friendly displays of superheroics. He’s a creature of the night and would prefer to stay in the shadows, being seen only when necessary.
I was only six when the first film was released so I wasn’t aware of the “How could they hire Mr. Mom?!” controversy, but Michael Keaton acquits himself nicely. He has an easy-going personality and brings just the right amount of neurosis to Bruce Wayne and toughness to Batman. I absolutely love his reveal in this film: the Bat-signal comes on and we see Bruce in his study. What’s he doing? Sulking in the darkness. It’s like the man has no purpose, except when the city’s in trouble and in that regard, he’s very much like Sherlock Holmes or Captain Kirk, both of whom would cease to function without the Call to Action. And as much as I enjoy the Christopher Nolan films, it’s nice to have a balls-to-the-wall film where there is no “prophecy” or “chosen one” or any of those mythic tropes. This film gets down to brass tacks and is, in fact, the only Batman movie where the murder of Bruce’s parents isn’t mentioned.

Many reviewers seem to love Catwoman and hate the Penguin, or vice versa. I love ’em both. They’re almost sympathetic: the Penguin (at first) only wants what we all want, a normal life. He wants to find out what happened to his parents and why they felt the need to throw him into the river as an infant. Catwoman might be a villain but she’s not “evil.” She doesn’t want to watch the world burn; she only wants revenge on the man who killed her. (Yes, I’m simplifying a bit here!) Christopher Walken is at his slithering best as crooked industrialist Max Shreck, who only lives for power (literally and figuratively). Batman veterans Michael Gough and Pat Hingle return as Alfred and Commissioner Gordon, respectively. The rest of the supporting cast is rounded out by Michael Murphy as Gotham’s beleaguered mayor, Andrew Bryniarski as Max’ son Chip, and the late Vincent Schiavelli as a member of the Penguin’s gang of circus freaks. Paul Reubens and Diane Salinger (of Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure) briefly show up in the opening as the Penguin’s parents.

Like the other Batman films of the period, the story itself is more or less window dressing for the characters and their bizarre antics. However, in this film, there actually is some semblance of a story. Shreck wants a power plant but the mayor tells him he’ll have to go through “the usual channels.” Shreck threatens a recall and later finds in the Penguin a perfect candidate and willing accomplice, but only after the Penguin blackmails him. It turns out the sewer-dwelling Penguin has been collecting some very important waste throughout the years, including some shredded documents with Shreck’s name on them. It’s not exactly front and center but at least these guys have some kind of motivation – respect for the Penguin and a legacy for Shreck – whereas too many villains are just evil for evil’s sake. (As much as I enjoy the first film, does anyone really remember the subplot involving the Joker’s poisonous beauty products?) There are some witty lines of dialogue in this film and a macabre sense of humor on display.

It’s not all roses, however. I can’t buy Catwoman’s origin in the film. I understand being driven to the brink of insanity but she’s pushed out a window, falls a dozen stories to her death, and is brought back to life by… cats? And once she starts prancing around in her slinky leather get-up, she’s suddenly athletic? She can do cartwheels and back flips and this all came from… where, exactly? In any movie like this, there are certain leaps in logic to be expected but a film still needs to play by its own rules. Oh, and Batman manages to foil all the Penguin’s plans with relative ease, to the point where the climax isn’t nearly as exciting as it should be. The Penguin’s mayoral ambitions? Thwarted with a convenient audio recording. The kidnapping plot? Batman appears just at the right time. The penguins armed with missiles? Diverted via frequency jamming.

And there are some minor inconsistencies with the Batmobile. Early in the film, Batman activates a hydraulic “foot” which lifts the car and spins it 180 degrees… except there doesn’t appear to be any room in the car body for the foot when its not in use, not to mention Batman manages to punch a hole through the bottom of the Batmobile later on, and he even activates the “Batmissile” mode in which most of the exterior parts are jettisoned, making the car small enough to fit through a narrow alley… so where did the foot go?! Also, unlike the Nolan films, this film portrays the citizens of Gotham City as mindless drones, gullible and easily led astray. Nothing wrong with that per se but it's a bit cynical, and even worse than that, a bit lazy.
Like every Tim Burton film, the technical aspects are top-notch, but with one caveat. Gotham City looks awfully cramped in this film. Why? Because the first film was shot at the famous Pinewood Studios outside London where Gotham City was erected on the backlot. This film, however, was shot at Warner Bros. Studios in Burbank where Gotham City was a smaller indoor set... and it looks like one at times. The interior sets look great, though, especially Shreck’s conference room and the Penguin’s lair in an abandoned zoo. (As an aside, I guess I should mention that Anton Furst, the genius production designer who won an Oscar for the first film, jumped to his death in 1991. Sad but true.)

The costumes are quite beautiful, especially Catwoman’s outfit which (for obvious reasons) is one of the more memorable costumes in film history. And Christopher Walken’s cuff links are actually human molars... naturally. Danny Elfman’s operatic score reprises the famous Batman theme from the first film and features two new themes for the Penguin and Catwoman, both full of melancholy. The Oscar-nominated visual effects still hold up (mostly), including some early CGI, beautiful matte paintings of Gotham City, and animatronic penguins by the late, great Stan Winston.

Like I said above, I understand the problems that Batman fans have with this film. I even got into a brief argument with a friend (a big Frank Miller fan) who simply could not understand what I saw in this film. After all, how could I possibly like a Batman film where Batman barely shows up? Well, I just do. And I’ll watch it a hundred times before most of the generic cookie-cutter superhero movies we get today. (I'm looking at you, Green Hornet!) Sadly, I’ll also watch it a hundred times before Alice in Wonderland and Dark Shadows - it’s time for Burton to disengage the autopilot!

“You're just jealous, because I'm a genuine freak and you have to wear a mask!”

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Friday, March 4, 2011

Film Friday: Alice In Wonderland (2010)

I’m a fan of Tim Burton, but sadly he died right before making Corpse Bride. And rather than letting his memory rest in peace, the studio replaced him with a fake who’s been making films like Alice in Wonderland under Burton’s name. Alice is sloppy, unoriginal, and it kills the very spirit of what Burton was trying to capture. It’s studio-horrid.

** spoiler alert **

The Technicals

What can I say about this movie? Well, for starters, this movie is not for kids, even though Disney suggests it is. But feel free to disagree if you think your kids are ready to see eyes gouged out with needles, a moat floating with decapitated heads, and Alice drinking blood at the end. . . don’t worry, it’s purple, not red!

Visually, what Burton has done is pretty at times, but it’s all stolen. The Red Queen’s castle is Hogwarts with a different paint job. The White Queen’s castle is Rivendell from The Lord of the Rings. The way the animals were animated comes straight from the Narnia films. Some of the character actions (particularly the Dormouse) are straight from Labyrinth or Willow. And so on.

The writing is pathetic. There isn't a memorable moment or line in the film. The word choice is weak, the dialog is incomprehensible, and the plot is nonexistent. The story begins with a clichéd anachronism, as we’re presented with a lame leftist view of the British aristocracy as nose-picking, inbred fools. These people look like something from a Pride and Prejudice theme party, yet Alice acts like she’s from 1963, and this doesn't seem to bother anyone. For example, she's introduced right after burning her bra. . . er, refusing to wear her corset. She then roams around smugly and condescendingly insulting everyone. Fortunately for her, these characters are clichés and thus are too stupid to be able to fight back, so they just act shocked and cowed. She also skools the old businessman by telling him that she, a petulant, rebellious, stupid 19 year old girl who is prone to fantasies and unreliability should be given control over his firm's operations in China. Naturally, he agrees.

If I were to put a name to this “style” of storytelling, it would be "feminist revisionist period piece” or, more simply, “delusional feminist porno."

To try to seem clever during this opening, Burton and writer Linda Woolverton make several of the aristocrats mimic classic Alice in Wonderland characters, like the two nearly-twin girls who we are supposed to see as Tweedledum and Tweedledee, or the businessman we are to see as the White Rabbit. Of course, “clever” is a relative term as this trick has been done in virtually every other “child transported to fantasy world” story since The Wizard of Oz, and nothing original is done with it here.

From there, the story takes you nowhere. Alice falls down the hole, where she meets Johnny Depp, playing a schizophrenic cross between Michael Jackson and William Wallace of Braveheart. He looks like a methhead, and his character is ultimately pointless except as plot filler. Alice then learns that her destiny is to kill the Jabberwocky, and through a series of uninteresting plot points, she does. Ho hum. Along the way, she meets the Red Queen, who is bad, and she meets the White Queen, who seems to be doing a mix of pot and acid. There’s not much more to say about the plot.

Burton’s Real Failure

Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland (1865) has been loved by dozens of generations. What gives the story its staying power is the incredible world created by Lewis Carroll (real name Charles Lutwidge Dodgson). And what makes that world so incredible is that Carroll takes reality and turns it on its head by infusing the impossible with the illogical and making that reality. In other words, his world isn’t the real world only containing silly things, like The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, but it’s an entirely different world with a different set of rules. Thus, rather than being a mere story about strange events, Wonderland is a story about a unique place that tickles the imagination and inspires us to think about the possibilities of this new world.

Disney captured this spirit perfectly in its 1951 cartoon Alice in Wonderland, as Alice explores this world on our behalf and learns about its wonders. Tim Burton, based on his reputation, was expected to run with this concept and make the world even more fantastic or even more strange. He failed.

In the book and the Disney version, the world in which Alice finds herself is a reality. The characters within it accept its rules the same way we accept things like gravity and the way we know the sun to rise in the East. This is what creates the interesting tension, in that Alice finds herself in a world were everyone else knows what’s going on except her. And as she explores she finds that the impossible is not only possible, but common. Burton, however, tosses that structure away. What he presents instead is a world that is exactly like our own, and which plays by the exact same physical and logical rules as our own, only it contains strange looking characters with some odd traits.

That’s a huge difference. In the original and Disney worlds, we are pulled in as we learn the new rules and we love this world because anything is possible. In Burton’s Alice, by comparison, we get nothing of the sort. We already know the rules by which they live, and the only thing left to marvel at are the strangely dressed characters and their few abnormal traits. The difference between these two is like the difference between finding yourself at a tea party in a world with no physical laws versus finding yourself drinking tea at Michael Jackson's house.

Moreover, this gives the actors little to work with, and it shows. In most of Burton’s prior films, the actors could use the new realities of the worlds in which their characters live to find something to inject into the characters to make them interestingly bizarre, yet within the realm of normal for their worlds. Thus, the Joker’s psychopathic showmanship in Batman fit perfectly in his Gotham, though it would fail miserably in our world. Edward Scissorhands’ strange mechanical nature, Ichabod Crane’s terror at discovering a world of magic in Sleepy Hollow, and Pumpkin Jack’s inability to do joy instead of terror in Nightmare Before Christmas all infused these characters with drama, tension and depth. We understood who they were from how they fit in their worlds.

In Alice, there is nothing fantastic about the characters except that they are physically misshapen or strangely dressed. So the actors resorted to trying to seem “fantastic” by doing things like lisping their lines (Carter, Depp) or waving their arms around like idiots (Hathaway) or slinking about (Crispin Glover). But these things just make the characters look uncomfortable and out of place in this world, they don’t give us any sense of who the people are, nor do they make us think they are in some strange world. Instead, it feels like Burton simply shot this at a mental home. Compare that with truly unique characters like Disney’s Mad Hatter or the Caterpillar, who were fixtures of a different reality.

It really is sad. The studio took a guy with tremendous imagination and asked him to dream big, and what he came up with was a formulaic studio film using strangely-dressed characters all pretending to be crazy. Why even bother?

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