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| At least I'm not wearing an orange wig... |
Full disclosure may be required before you read my review: the last
time I reviewed a Tim Burton film, Alice in Wonderland, my girlfriend – a dyed-in-the-wool Burton fanatic – put me
in the doghouse for a bit. My commentary was scathing enough that she a) felt
the need to write her own response to my review, and b) told me that she was
reluctant to go see Dark Shadows with
me because she didn’t necessarily want to know my opinion.
Art is – and should be – like that, though. It should inspire loyalty,
allegiance, and passion. I know I often find myself getting a bit pissy when I
read a negative movie review by someone I respect about a film I enjoyed. And
it always bothers me when I really hope someone will like a movie I adore, and
they either don’t, or are underwhelmed by the experience. It’s a beautiful
testament to the subjective nature of experience that our perceptions of art
can be so varied that one person will watch Boogie
Nights and say “it sucked,” while that same person might watch an Uwe Boll
film, like Bloodrayne, and call it a
“masterpiece.”
With that disclosure in mind, I have a few things to say about Burton’s
new collaboration with Johnny Depp.
It doesn’t suck.
Marissa can breathe a sigh of relief now, knowing I don’t plan on
eviscerating Burton’s latest tribute to kitschy gothic dreamscapes.
And this film really is a tribute to the campy gothic horror films of
his youth, as much so as Edward
Scissorhands, or Sleepy Hollow. Maybe
even more so. It looks like a cross between a Hammer horror picture of the late
50s and the garish grindhouse films of the 70s. As a result, much of the film
feels tonally schizophrenic, as if Burton couldn’t figure out exactly what he
wanted, so he decided to just throw it all in. This creates some incredible
stunning moments, but also some pretty lame ones, too. Dark Shadows is definitely uneven, but it’s also fun and exciting
in a way Alice in Wonderland never
was.
I never spent much time watching re-runs of the 1970s gothic soap this
movie is based on, so I can’t speak on how close Burton’s film is to the spirit
of the show. I know he and Depp have talked a lot about how much they loved and
respected the source material, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they clung to
it like fanboys, or ever intended to. This film feels more like a Burton film
than it does anything I ever saw on Dark
Shadows clip shows. And that’s okay – anyone who expects a movie adaptation
to slavishly ape the source material obviously doesn’t understand the purpose
behind remakes, or why people make films. Adaptations are supposed to give us a
new perspective on the source material – the real question is whether or not
the new adaptation is successful in and of itself.
Dark Shadows is not
overwhelmingly successful, but it certainly is in keeping with themes that
Burton has worked with over the course of his career as a filmmaker: feelings
of being incomplete, wanting a family, being an outsider. They are all on
display here in the story of Barnabas Collins (Johnny Depp), a centuries old
vampire who is at the heart of a curse placed upon him by a spurned witch named
Angelique (Eva Green). After a gloriously gothic prologue, in which a love
triangle between Barnabas, Angelique, and Barnabas’ beloved Josette is
established, we join Barnabas in 1972, as he is brought out of his two
centuries long imprisonment in a coffin. Of course there is culture shock to
follow, but the biggest shock for Barnabas is that his family – once strong,
proud, and successful – has been put out of the fishing business by Angelique’s
Angel Bay Fishing Company. Apparently his descendents have been as cursed as he
was, and for this he vows revenge.
The best moments in Dark Shadows
are those in which Barnabas interacts with his family, especially matriarch Elizabeth
(Michelle Pfeffier), and her teenage Carolyn (Chloe Grace Moretz). As Barnabas
seeks to connect with these women, we can feel his very human longing for
connection, despite the fact that he continually insists that he is a monster.
My favorite sequence is the one in which Barnabas tries to reestablish the
Collins’ place in the community by hosting a “happening” and getting shock
rocker Alice Cooper to perform for Carolyn’s benefit. As Barnabas finds a niche
for himself in the modern Collins’ family, I found myself reminded of Edward Scissorhands, in which Edward
tries to establish ties with Kim’s family. The desire for family, but the
inability to actually fit in, is one of Burton’s major themes, and he gets that
right with this one.
What he doesn’t get right is the romance angle. Romance has never been
one of his strengths as a filmmaker, his characters all too strange to be seen
as romantic figures, and that trend continues here. As sexy as Eva Green is as
the witch Angelique, her chemistry with Depp merely flares when it should
sizzle, making it hard to invest emotionally in their conflict. Part of this
stems from the fact that the third side of the triangle – Josette (Bella
Heathcoate) – is so underdeveloped. In the prologue, Josette is compelled by
Angelique’s spell to jump off a seaside cliff, but in the modern day, Josette’s
spirit is resurrected in the form of Victoria, the Collins’ new nanny. Barnabas
is drawn to her, but outside of a couple short scenes, we never really get a sense
of his passion for her. So, as the conflict with Angelique intensifies, we
never completely feel the pull of Barnabas’ heart strings. This was frustrating
for me, mainly because the introduction of Victoria was well-handled and
compelling, and then Burton just removes her from the narrative until she is needed
for the plot.
Now, plot has never been one of the strengths in Burton’s films.
Usually, there are some gaping holes and narrative missteps, so it’s not
completely fair to judge his films based on this. Burton is more concerned with
the feeling of his movies – the art direction, the costumes, the imagery. And,
as with most of his work, he gets that right. The Collins’ mansion is a
spectacular set, with ornate woodwork, unique angles, and a gorgeous staircase.
The costuming is gothic, yet modern, and will probably yield Colleen Atwood
another Oscar nomination. And the use of color is exceptional, popping off the
screen with intensity. The film is fun to look at, much more so than Alice, which felt bland and stale, as if
Burton were attempting to make a “Tim Burton” film. With Dark Shadows, he finds a design niche that feels like a cross
between Beetlejuice and Sleepy Hollow, but never feels like he’s
merely repeating himself.
All this said, Dark Shadows
could have been better. I’m still waiting for Burton to find a script worthy of
his talent – like Ed Wood or Big Fish. I’m still waiting for him to
make a more personal film. He is one of the most distinctive, most talented
filmmakers working in the industry, so it always feels like a downer when he
doesn’t completely deliver. Then again, my expectations may be too high.
Hopefully, after this review, Marissa won’t be so reluctant to see a
new Burton film with me next time.
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