You know a Tim Burton film as soon as you see it. The gothic undertones of all his work seep onto the screen to the point of saturating it with darkness. Because of this, many film lovers seem to view Burton as some kind of creative genius. Nothing could be further from the truth: that he is a one-dimensional director who lacks the ability, or courage, to move out of his comfort zone and bathe his films in some much needed light.Ok, so Burton does have the capability to string a shot sequence together in a coherent narrative, but so does Guy Ritchie, and he made Swept Away. Aside from that, his films, and the reputation he has somehow managed to build, rely on two basic prerequisites: firstly that his cinematographer brings his vision to the screen in a veil of shade, and secondly that there is an undercurrent of evil pervading the story. Burton would not, and will never, take on a film if he doesn’t believe he can introduce these aspects.Certainly every director is entitled to a subjective style, but Burton’s constant repetition is simply boring. Anyone could have predicted what Sweeney Todd would look like: gratuitous violence, grimy, gloomy, and blood tainted with an abrasive, unreal redness, because that makes it ‘edgy and imaginative’. Because of this predictability, a story that has real malice lacked any on screen, and you can say the same about any of his projects. Of course, amongst all the perennials of a Burton film, you can’t forget his ever-present centrepiece, Johnny Depp.Depp is by no means a bad actor, although vastly overrated, but he always models his characters on public figures: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory might as well have listed Michael Jackson in the starring role, for instance. So you have the combination of Burton continually repeating himself, and Depp borrowing the persona and idiosyncrasies of other people for every film. It doesn’t make for cutting edge entertainment.Unfortunately the other mainstay of Burton’s travelling band, also his spouse, Helena Bonham-Carter, does not exactly turn in groundbreaking performances either. Admittedly, she has fantastic breasts, but there’s only so far her buxom can carry a film (although it’s quite a distance). And what’s worse, Burton refuses to admit that his repeated employment of her has anything to do with the fact she’s his wife. Does he think we’ll put it down to coincidence?The truth about Burton is that he lacks range. He’s not terrible at what he does, but after seeing essentially the same film (and cast) nearly 20 times, you sort of wish he’d try something, just anything, a bit differently.
By Ben Williams
Cinecism: Tim Burton
