Category: Tim Burton

BATMAN (1989)

By Marc S. Sanders

If Warner Bros was to abandon the campy familiarity of the Adam West TV series, Tim Burton was the best candidate to deliver The Dark Knight into the macabre gloominess of a bustling crime ridden Gotham City.  Burton is proud of his grotesque weirdness which is what this famed comic book character demands.  

Despite a story that always teetered on flimsy to me, this close-out picture of the decadent 1980s, has so many elements that work. It begins with the marquee cast to the richly deserved Oscar winning hell on Earth art designs from Anton Furst to silly pop/funk samples from Prince and the orchestral score from Danny Elfman.  This is truly the film that put Elfman on the map.

Jack Nicholson collected buckets and buckets of cash to bring Batman’s arch nemesis Joker to life.  He earned every penny.  There’s been copycat attempts (Hello Jim “Mr. Shameless” Carrey) to a handful of other interpretations of the psychotic clown, and still no one has overshadowed what Nicholson brought to the role.  His performance seems like a combined amalgamation of previous celebrated career roles from Easy Rider to …Cukoo’s Nest.  Prince served as his cheerleading entourage to compliment the purple and green color schemes.  This Joker is a perfect antithesis to the famed title character superhero.

Batman is portrayed by Michael Keaton.  Let the record show that when news broke of Mr. Mom occupying the part, I was not a skeptic.  I had seen the dark and dramatic side of the former standup comic a year prior (Clean And Sober, my review is on this site).  I knew he could pull it off.  His quiet pondering as either billionaire Bruce Wayne, whose parents were gunned down in front of him as a child, to the Batman under the cape and mask work on the opposite spectrum to Nicholson’s uncompromising insanity and hyperactivity.  

Keaton against Nicholson are a defined Yin and Yang.

The supporting cast have good moments too including the loyalty of Bruce’s butler, Alfred.  Michael Gough brings Wayne Manor alive and Burton, with a script from Sam Hamm, welcomes several spotlights from the expected council of the trusty character.  Kim Basinger is photojournalist Vicki Vale, Bruce’s love interest.  Frankly she has better scenes to share with Robert Wuhl as Gotham’s reporter.  The Batman fan in me stops short at Pat Hingle as Commissioner Gordon.  It’s not the actor’s fault however that the film offers little for him to do on screen.    Hingle never had much material to play with in the four films he occupied.  That’s regrettable.

The best supporting character is the setting of Gotham City.  With Burton’s penchant for a Vincent Price characterization, he relies on Anton Furst to bring the towering midnight blue steel, skyscraper pillars to enormous heights, reaching into the blackness of heaven.  Every street, alleyway, balcony, puddle, garbage can or mugger, policeman and cabbie that circumvent this city lend life to this hopeless, criminal world.  It’s astonishing how well constructed this Gotham is.  Designs go just as far with Wayne Manor, the underground Bat Cave and a chemical plant designed in hot steam,  with enormous barrels of rainbow, acidic liquids and rickety platforms. Even Vicki Vale’s apartment is gorgeous to look at as both Bruce Wayne and the Joker compliment it as having “lots of space.” Tim Burton and Anton Furst make certain the people who roam these environments are entirely aware of what they occupy.

Sam Hamm’s script doesn’t appear as solid as everything else on screen.  There’s never a cohesive beginning to end trajectory and a lot of the film feels like short story episodes.  Joker takes over the localized mob.  There’s that story.  Joker somehow concocts a chemical poisoning amid the various hygiene products.  Yet it only spreads to the local newscasters.  Gordon, Alfred, Vicki Vale, and certainly not Bruce Wayne ever gets exposed.  Once that storyline begins, it’s quickly disposed.  A little attention focuses on Batman’s beginnings.

The irony of Batman is that unlike other superhero films, this one does not hinge on an origin story for the good guy dressed in black.  That angle is devoted mostly towards Joker, and Nicholson makes the most of his large amount of screen time.  A favorite, sinister scene that maybe Edgar Allen Poe might have approved of is Burton’s invention for Joker to gradually reveal himself beneath the darkness.  He’s depicted sitting in a dirty office basement with an underground cosmetic doctor who witnesses a transformation in the gangster turned madman.  I just like it.  It’s hair raising.  The moment plays like Poe writing a new version of The Mask Of The Red Death.

For me, this is likely Tim Burton’s best film, just below his passion for detail in Ed Wood.  Batman offers up a lot of variety ranging from the darkness of the character to the disruptions revealed in the antagonistic, loudly dressed, Joker.  

There’s no denying how visually memorable the film remains and how quotable it is as well.  In 1989, when superhero movies were not the event release commodities they are today, the endless hype only enhanced the experience of finally seeing the movie on the big screen.  Over a year ahead of release, t- shirts, caps, action figures and costumes were of the highest demand among kids, teenagers and adults.  I actually miss the marketing blitz that overtook the finished film product.  Everyone you encountered was embracing Batman and Joker.  These might be pop culture phenomena, but they created a commonality among the masses of the world.  Batman was worthy of all its swag and endless mania.  It was a celebration of movies for people of all ages to take seriously.

Fortunately, the first half of the 1989 promotional partnerships were never squandered on a decidedly terrible movie.  The end product was immensely satisfying.

Tim Burton upheld his dedication while still a young director in a cutthroat and competitive industry.  As the later films, from a careless Joel Schumacher, demonstrated, it takes an endearing kind of passion to pull these eccentrics off on a silver screen.  Fanboys will happily toss that Bat logoed t-shirt away if they feel betrayed by the movie, they couldn’t wait to sink their teeth into.

An enormous sigh of relief came across the entire pre-internet world.  Keaton is great.  Nicholson of course.  Check out the Batmobile and Bat Jet as well!!! Prince’s music videos served as free commercialization to see the movie over and over again.  A separate record was released to highlight Danny Elfman’s work.

Rightly so!

The grand scheme of delivering Batman and Joker to audiences, was worth every second of the wait.

An astounding achievement of near perfect filmmaking, this Batman film was never overshadowed even with a better, leaner Dark Knight interpretation to arrive nearly two decades later.

Right this way Mr.  Nolan.  Your table is ready for you.

BEETLEJUICE

By Marc S. Sanders

On Friday night, we watched Beetlejuice the movie.  On Saturday afternoon, we watched Beetlejuice the musical, and as soon as the curtain was pulled on the stage and the performance began, I knew exactly what the movie did wrong and what the play did so right.

I saw Tim Burton’s much beloved spooky comedy for the first time just last year with my Cinemaniac pals, which includes the other Unpaid Movie Critic.  The guys were laughing and laughing until it hurt.  I was off to the side thinking how I remember seeing that scene while flipping channels on occasion.  Cute, but ultimately boring.  That’s how I feel about Burton’s second film, following a hilarious debut with Pee Wee’s Big Adventure and just ahead of his blockbuster accomplishments with the first two Batman films.  Beetlejuice is full of big ideas but devoid of content, and I mean that literally, because the title character brilliantly played by Michael Keaton is scarcely in the film.  When he is not on screen, the remaining cast are quite bland or unwelcomingly weird.

Adam and Barbara (Alec Baldwin, Geena Davis) happily reside in a three-story Connecticut home.  Adam indulges in making a scaled model of their picturesque hometown and Barbara…well I can’t recall what she does.  On an errand trip, they haphazardly die and suddenly return to the house.  Yet, they realize quickly that they have expired and what is even less convenient is that they cannot leave the house lest they end up in a kind of limbo threatened by a monstrous sand worm and other unusual experiences. 

Shortly after, Charles and Delia (Jeffrey Jones, Catherine O’Hara), appearing with the typical Tim Burton flavor, move into the house along with his suicidal daughter Lydia (Winona Ryder) and their quirky interior decorator Otho (Glenn Shadix).  They plan to refurbish the house in their own way with Delia’s ugly art sculptures and Charles looking for a reading room.  Adam and Barbara want them out so they can roam free and avoid being contained within the attic. 

Upon discovering that Lydia can speak with them and following an entrance to the Netherworld, they get an idea to scare the new owners away.  Only whatever efforts they set out to make fails miserably and they consider reciting the name of the “ghost with the most” three times to carry him over to their side to do their bidding.

Great storyline.  Sounds great on paper.  So why didn’t it work for me?  Well, Lydia is resigned to her mostly miserable suicidal self and that is neither funny nor empathetic to me.  More importantly, conflict works best when different worlds clash and what I find lacking in several Tim Burton films is that the characters on both sides of the coin are not different enough from one another.  The ghosts or souls or comforts of the Netherworld do not look far enough apart from how Charles, Delia, Lydia and especially Otho behave.  Everyone is weird.  Where is the normalcy to ruin or undo or disagree with? 

Beetlejuice himself is a character to behold though.  Keaton is doing Jim Carrey better than Jim Carrey does and long before that guy was ever discovered.  The actor is working in the area of Robin Williams material, particularly as the Genie from Alaadin.  The issue I have is that Michael Keaton is seldom in the film.  It is a long first act with Baldwin and Davis not doing much of anything before they finally encounter Beetlejuice to have a couple of funny exchanges.  Then they leave him to have mundane conversations with everyone else in the film, particularly Winona Ryder who has nothing to do except dress in her signature, depressing black.  When Keaton finally is summoned, he takes possession of a dinner party with the beloved Calypso tune “Dayo.”  However, we don’t see Keaton in this popular sequence.  Instead, we get Jones and O’Hara with David Niven doing odd contortions to the music with some butt shaking and grotesque facial and body expressions.  I would rather have seen Keaton doing his funny best in a lip sync routine.  What’s in the final cut is just not funny enough for me. Kooky, yes.  Funny, no.

Eventually, the black and white striped suited ghost with green hair is called back for the final act and we get to see him pull all the tricks out of his hat.  However, it’s not enough.  Just as the routine is getting started, it’s over, and then the movie is over. 

There are some inventive sight gags.  Not enough though.  I particularly loved the shrunken headed ghoul with the googly eyes and the pink skinned prostitute whose legs are separated from her torso.  I love when Beetlejuice’s head gets shrunk, and I like when Adam and Barbara’s faces are contorted into odd shapes of gigantic beaks or zany skulls beneath their facial skin.  These are the highlights of this film’s Netherworld and the distance I travel to see it all is smaller than Rhode Island.  In the original Star Wars, I experienced what felt like thousands of alien races.  In Ghostbusters, New York is haunted by one different kind of afterlife from another and another.  In any episode of The Muppet Show, I get to see one breed of silliness before another ridiculous set up is put into play.  The Netherworld setting of Beetlejuice is simply not vast enough.

The stage musical makes up for the shortcomings I have with the film.  The spine of the story is what the two pieces have in common.  After that, the stage play takes more risks.  The musical numbers are absolutely winning.  More significantly though, all the characters are granted more depth and dimension.  The root cause of Lydia’s anguish is explored.  We see the snobbery of Charles just like in the film, but he is also a loving father who recognizes Lydia’s suffering following the loss of his wife/her mother.  Delia also has a desire to connect with her stepdaughter Lydia.  All the elements are given enough attention amidst the craziness offered by Beetlejuice himself who occupies the story from beginning to end.  The character works like a great two-hour stand-up routine with his unlimited imagination of ghoulish trickery and fun.

Burton’s film was released in the late-1980s when updated stop motion effects of the puppet kind were new to the medium of film.  The imagination was there, though it does not hold up as it is very outdated.  Still, Tim Burton was showing his gift for macabre creativity that he has become known for ever since.  Nevertheless, he did not go far enough with the vision of his film, and he did not award any of his characters enough ingredients to let them be unique.  It is not enough that they all speak weird and look strange.  It is better if we can know why they are so uncompromisingly odd.  Beetlejuice the film lacks its variety. More specifically, it lacks its Beetlejuice.

BATMAN RETURNS

By Marc S. Sanders

I’ve always been a little hot and cold with Tim Burton’s films.  They are beautifully constructed in set and costume design, always well cast with exceptional talent and composer Danny Elfman’s music accompanies perfectly with Burton’s wide collection of social misfits and altogether celebrated weird material.  Still, more often than not, I leave Burton’s movies feeling less fulfilled than I want. Tim Burton’s one sequel film to date, Batman Returns, is one such example. 

To commemorate the annual Batman Day, I opted to watch Burton’s return to the murkiest of comic book locales, Gotham City, where Michael Keaton reprised the role of billionaire Bruce Wayne who dons the costume of The Dark Knight.  This time the villains of the week are the grotesque Penguin (Danny DeVito) and the sexy, dominatrix like Catwoman (Michelle Pfeiffer). 

Penguin resurfaces from the sewers of Gotham 33 years after his parents abandoned him as an infant, depositing him into the city reservoir in a bassinet to be raised by…you guessed it…penguins.  (Schools of penguins reside in the city sewers???? I guess it’s better than rats.)  Nerdy and mousy Selina Kyle is raised from the dead by the gnawing and licking of random alley cats to take on a warrior persona for Catwoman.  How exactly a feline resurrection works in either myth or science is never explored.  I guess I just have to go with it.  The manipulator behind these villains’ actions is a wealthy industrialist named Max Shreck, portrayed by Christopher Walken.  I was never sure of his stake here.  I’m only supposed to understand that he’s unlikable on the surface and he is not good for Gotham. 

I love all these actors.  I love them in these roles.  I do not love the script doled out for them though, which serves none of them well.

Batman Returns is best when the Batmobile or the Bat Glider is on screen.  They are awesome pieces of hardware to see in action as much as any tripped-up James Bond vehicle.  However, these are props.  They don’t speak, or laugh, or cry, or get angry.  Therefore, they don’t drive or develop a story.  When Luke Skywalker pilots an X-Wing Fighter, I care about the pilot.  The pilot speaks for the vehicle.  Batman doesn’t speak for the Batmobile. 

It’s ironic that the title character has only one sentence of dialogue in the first 30 minutes of this two-hour film.  There’s no dynamic to Batman or Bruce Wayne.  Keaton looks great sitting by his fireplace in deep thought or watching his television as the bat signal beams upon him.  He stands, and then when we see him next, he’s sitting in his bat car in full horned head regalia.  Otherwise, the Batman character is a prop to be used for scapegoat tactics by Penguin, Schreck and Catwoman, or he’s present to hurl a bat gadget, or throw a stiff-arm punch.  He doesn’t even do much of that stuff, anyway.  In Batman Returns, I learn nothing new about Batman or Bruce Wayne or his crusade to protect Gotham City.

Keaton shares one good scene in the film with Michelle Pfeiffer. It may be the one scene with a story to it as the two are dressed down from their comic book evening wear to dance slowly at a masquerade Christmas ball where they gradually realize who they are when they are not with one another.  Of course, we know this should be so obvious, yet a rule of thumb for comic book literature is not to realize what’s right under your nose.  A nice touch to this scene is having Keaton and Pfeiffer be the only guests not wearing a mask while everyone else is.  Batman and Catwoman have in fact dressed up as someone else for the costume party.  Very ironic and almost clever.

Too much material is given to Walken as the conniving Max Shreck.  Walken performs well, but just like his Bond bad guy in A View To A Kill, he belongs in a different movie.  The Schreck character lends nothing to this Batman adventure.  Who’s interested in this guy?  McDonalds and the other merchandising companies could even see how unattractive this character is.  So, why couldn’t Tim Burton or his writers and producers?  I’ll pay you a gazillion dollars for your rare, never manufactured Max Schreck action figure.  Yet, the bland script from Daniel Waters and Sam Hamm arguably provides the most dialogue to this guy.  You’ve got Batman, Penguin, Catwoman, even Alfred the butler and Commissioner Gordon, and yet this grey-haired guy with a wolf like pompadour in a bland, black business suit is hijacking a Batman movie.  Makes no sense.  Much of Batman Returns is made with cutting room floor material taped together featuring an unwanted Christopher Walken.

Who else is better to play The Penguin than Danny DeVito?  No one!  So, it is disappointing when the squat actor has nothing to do.  A seemingly inspired storyline from the campy Adam West TV series, and maybe a handful of comics, have him running for Mayor of Gotham.  A good start, but then the script does nothing remotely interesting with it, even though this stuff sells itself.  Where’s the political jokes to parallel the campaign? Where’s the ridiculous podium debates?  Imagine Penguin kissing little old ladies and holding babies while on a campaign trail.  None of that happens here.  You have outstanding talent from DeVito and yet all he’s left to do is ride around in a duck boat, spit out black and green sludge goo, and scream frustrations in a groggy, ear-piercing bellow on more than a couple of occasions. Unlike Jack Nicholson before him, DeVito is abandoned to play scenes with no dialogue while he chomps on raw fish or screams for the sake of screaming. 

An error in judgement was layering the actor in ugly makeup and unattractive costume wear.  Usually, DeVito is seen wearing a stained and damp white footy pajama suit with black dental pieces and very black eyeshadow on a whited out facial texture with a giant hook nose.  This is Danny DeVito.  He already looks like The Penguin.  If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it!  The only charming accessories are his top hat and his collection of umbrellas (shooting fire or bullets or flicking out knives) that serve as exclamation points on dialogue when a jokey punchline could not be considered with even just a smidgen of effort from the writers.  The umbrellas were more expressive than the guy operating them, and yet even they were hardly used in any action scenes.

Batman Returns has some sloppy scene cuts as well.  A scene will appear with Catwoman skipping through a store, then it’ll jump to Batman punching out a few circus clowns, then the two meeting up on a rooftop somehow.  Why, where and how did this all happen?  The math doesn’t add up.  Penguin will somehow appear within this stitchery too.  For what reason?  Three movies are happening here and none of them are communicating with one another.

Films like the original Batman, or Edward Scissorhands or even Pee Wee’s Big Adventure carry the weirdo trademark of Tim Burton.  I know what I’m getting when I turn on almost any one of his films.  (Ed Wood being the surprising, and pleasing biographical exception.)  These are gorgeous, macabre films to look at, whether they are dimly lit or staged in deliberately bright and gaudy rainbow colors.  Yet, there are often scenes or moments that lack that hook that carries you from the exposition to the acclimation I normally get from the universe on screen before my eyes.  Batman Returns especially lacks that transition. 

Because the film looks so good, it is not the worst of the Dark Knight’s many films.  Yet, it is an uninspired and disappointing piece.  Any film with such storied and legendary characters as these is going to be a big letdown if they are given nothing to do.  Why, oh why, did they give almost all of the lines to the boring guy in the business suit?  If I wanted to entertain myself with an accountant, all I needed to do was sit in the lobby of an H & R Block.