Review of Big Eyes (2014) by Matthew C — 06 May 2015

This one barely feels like a Tim Burton film...and that may be a good thing...or a bad thing...

Indeed, aside from some creative photography and set design showing off very bold color schemes, this film is fairly subdued for the infamously macabre director. It may even be his best film in quite some time. It's certainly one of the few directorial efforts on his resume that focuses more on character (mostly avoiding caricature) than on visual style.

Once the obligatory biopic tropes are dispensed with in the character setup and the two leads have gotten married, the plot and the performances begin to kick into high gear. Both Amy Adams and Christoph Waltz are very likable. Adams somehow manages to bring a sensitive nobility to her somewhat naive southern painter (based on real-life kitsch artist, Margaret Keane) and gives us a portrait of a real, down-to-earth mother attempting to do what's best for her child. This performance could have easily been bogged down by faux southern charm and gentility, but Adams almost always keeps her feet firmly on the ground. Same goes for Waltz. While no stranger to hamming it up for the camera, the actor is quite restrained here and resists the urge to paint (pun intended) his antagonist with broad strokes. His likable con artist, and husband to Margaret, eschews the cartoony villain mustache twirls he so excels at and remains human despite his admittedly ghastly faults and nefarious behavior as the film progresses.

Though I clearly admire the performances of the leads, as well as the restrained hand of wacky Mr. Burton, the movie's script is not nearly as strong as I'd prefer. There are, for instance, far too many forced attempts at humor. Indeed, the film's narration (a journalist played by Danny Huston) seems to exist simply to point out the silliness of the plot and its characters in snarky fashion. Likewise, whole characters seem to have been invented to either provide sarcastic advice (Krysten Ritter as Margaret's "friend") or fill us in on how odd and un-artistic Keane's paintings are (Jason Swartzman and Terrance Stamp). They all feel like they've been shoehorned in to create a "delightful," cynical, indie-movie tone. The problem is, you take these people out and the film is barely 90 minutes. I'm thus left with the sad realization that this "true story" is light on story and filled with very obvious padding. In addition, the climax seems rushed and the film ends abruptly.

Personally, I would have preferred it if the humor came across more naturally as a result of the non-fictional hijinks of this fascinating couple. The humor is already there. Some producer, however, may not have been satisfied and demanded more "Wes Anderson." Whatever the case, Adams and Waltz are quite enjoyable. They have good chemistry. Unfortunately, they are shortchanged by a weak script.