Big Fish
Rated: PG-13
The best films don’t get old on repeat viewings. When a film can draw a viewer back for another viewing that is a big accomplishment in and of itself, but when that new viewing yields a new experience or a new idea or something fresh, then the film becomes new all over again. And when every viewing manages to create that feeling of freshness, then the film becomes eternal. It never gets stale. It might even get better on repeat viewings. The Godfather has at least a thousand and one different readings and it still feels like every time we see Vito Corleone scratch his bulldog face and consider enacting revenge for a grieving undertaker, it’s the first time we’ve ever seen it and yet the moment has new meaning. A new reading comes to mind because the previous viewings have allowed a peeling back of layers. A film doesn’t have to be an AFI classic to hold this title. Even in films like Super Troopers, The story is fairly straightforward: Billy Crudup (Almost Famous, Jesus’ Son) plays Will Bloom, a man desperate to understand his father Edward (elderly Edward played by Albert Finney and the younger version played by Ewan McGregor) who has always recited his life in the form of a tall tales. Events in Edwards’s stories seem too outrageous to be true, and Will desperately wants Edward to just give him the straightforward, rational stories of his life so that Will be able to explain his father to his soon-to-be-born son. But within this framework we see the tales of Edward’s life as only Tim Burton could direct. Within this tale of father-son understanding, there are numerous ways to see the film. One viewing could focus on Edward’s coming of age story as he realizes that he must aspire to greatness and that a life of quiet desperation could never suit him. But in his journeys of meeting giants and coming to mythical towns of perfection, the wonderful metaphors of maturity become clear like few other films. Some films will spend two hours trying to push a coming-of-age story and end up with that kid from Rookie of the Year raising his glass and saying some crap like “to the next level.” In less than an hour, Big Fish hits the concept out of the park as it clearly demonstrates the difficulties and realizations in becoming the best person you can be and not letting fear or complacency slow your path. It’s a message so clearly delivered and yet never condescending or trite. While themes and motifs have certain highlights throughout the film, they never get left behind or forgotten. Edward’s understanding of life and his world always comes back into view as the audience continues along the path of Edward’s fantastical life. 
The film could content itself with its expertly told coming-of-age story, let the father-son tale be gravy, and still be an excellent film. But the film continues to incorporate new ideas and aspects such as Edward’s love story with Sandra, (younger played by Alison Lohman, older played by Jessica Lange) a woman he’s never met. In the hands of a less-gifted filmmaker, Edward’s drive to marry Sandra might appear creepy and off-putting, but under Tim Burton’s skilled direction, it’s nothing short of magical. Edward’s love never appears anything other than pure and idealistic, much like his entire approach to life. The love story between Edward and Sandra is cute, surprising, touching, and honest. And if the film stopped there, it would be enough. But even with all these aspects of Edward’s life and the way the film portrays these events, the heart of the film is storytelling. Big Fish feels like Tim Burton’s previous masterpiece Edward Scissorhands to the nth degree. Whereas Scissorhands focuses primarily on how people deal with imagination and having the story framed within the context of a bedtime story, the film provides a criticism/observation about how people react to imagination and magic and how those reactions affect their lives. Big Fish takes these ideas and pushes them much further. The film focuses on the beauty of storytelling but also its folly. Will quests for nonfiction; that the truth is the truth is the truth. But in Edward’s mind, everything he’s saying is the truth. He’s not trying to embellish his life or make it something more than it was. While the events may not have actually been as fantastic as Edward portrays them, it’s his passion that makes every carnival light shine, every ordinary event seem extraordinary, and really convey what kind of person Edward is and how he wants others to understand him. 
But at the end of the day, that’s just several readings after several viewings. And while those major themes stick out, noticing Burton’s magnificent touches like having a skull mirrored in a fishing hook or a demon’s head as a door knob just show that Big Fish goes the extra mile and then some. The film proves that when Tim Burton is in his element, no one can touch him. He does the fantastical like no one else and Big Fish is his most mature film to date. While films like Pee Wee’s Big Adventure, Beetlejuice, Edward Scissorhands, and Tim Burton’s The Nightmare Before Christmas (which Burton did not direct, but obviously earns his name in the title) all show a twisted yet childlike imagination at work, Big Fish shows Burton’s growth as a director. The film is Burton’s through and through, but it’s not because of black and white color schemes or Jack Skellington heads lurking everywhere. No one could have made this film come alive like Tim Burton. But in addition to the expert direction, there’s an incredibly strong cast supporting this film. Without a doubt, Ewan McGregor is one of the best actors working today. He can be stoic, dark, intense, and as seen in last year’s Down With Love as well as this film, he can radiate an endless amount of charm. His winning smile and cornball southern accent are perfectly in tune with the fanciful tone of the film. Outside of Edward’s stories, Crudup and Finney deliver the excellent performances that won’t surprise anyone who’s seen their previous work. The two characters interact so well and their father-son bond is so strong it will have you in tears by the end of the film, unless your black heart knows nothing but the hatred of the world, in which case you should just go and see Agent Cody Banks 2 again. 
There are those that claim there is no such thing as a perfect film, and perhaps they’re right. Danny Elfman’s score is fine, but it’s not his best work and it shows that he has yet to really grow as a composer. Jessica Lange gives a warm and lovely performance, but she could have perhaps benefited from a beefed-up role. But these are incredibly minor complaints. It’s like watching a no-hitter and having one poorly-fielded ball sour the experience for you. It’s seeing the glass not only half-empty, but in fact occupying a negative field which only Steven Hawking can comprehend. Every film has its flaws. It’s up to you as a viewer to decide whether those flaws detract from the movie or help give the film character. In my mind, Big Fish is nothing but character. It runs through so many emotions and never feels phony. It runs through so many ideas and never feels contrived. I claimed it as my favorite film of 2003 and will stand by that judgment until I turn irrevocably bitter or Tim Burton decides to do a Special Edition Re-Release and replaces all the characters with damn dirty apes. This weekend, go see Big Fish. See it with friends, see it with family, see it with whomever or see it alone. If you walk out of the film feeling indifferent, than you’ve probably been staring at a brick-wall for two hours and no one’s had the heart to tell you. See the film, mull it over, and then see it again. It only gets better.  Words by |
