Edward Scissorhands Film Review
A Compendium Of Poignancy, Colour And Irony
There's no denying that films of a festive and jolly nature don't particularly get featured for any of the award ceremonies that proceed afterwards. However, as humbug as many critics like to be when judging and determining which Christmas film should be the one to watch, nearly all of merry features you can think of, in many ways, revives our inner child-like character who wishes to regain his or hers sense of wonderment. From the black-and-white classics such as Frank Capra's It's a Wonderful Life, to the many different iterations of Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol, in particular Brian Henson's The Muppet Christmas Carol of which I personally prefer, there's something for everyone who wants their viewing gaze warm and cosy. For myself, while the more blatantly potent Christmas films, including Elf , The Polar Express and Home Alone put me in a rather gleaming mood, it's the consistent once-a-year viewing of Edward Scissorhands that fuels the excitement surrounding Yuletide. Along with Tim Burton's other Christmasy outing of Batman Returns, the romantic dark urban-fantasy film that is Edward Scissorhands is a contemporary fairy-tale that not only remains to be one of said directors most personal works, but is a gothic fantasy feature that evokes meaning and imagination...
When Peg Boggs, the local Avon lady, attempts one last stop to sell her products, she wanders off to a mansion on top a large hill in the colourfully-lit suburbs and encounters a unique and lonely man named Edward, who has appears to have scissors for hands. Peg decides to bring Edward home, to her family, where she hopes to help and change him from what he appears to be. Upon his arrival, Edward soon starts to make a good impression with local neighbours and makes a name for himself in cutting other people's hedges and set-of-hair. However, as reality swiftly hits at Edward's surreal portrayal of life, he realises that everything isn't so sweet after all...
In taking a leaf from both Mary Shelley's novel of Frankenstein and Victor Hugo's The Hunchback of Notre Dame, it's not surprising when watching Tim Burton's fantastical symphony of Edward Scissorhands that it is a feature that's brimmed with a sense of ironic melancholia. Indeed, in gazing at said directors filmography, it's not uncommon to notice that Burton implements his profound film-making style of a rather gothic yet contrapuntal sense of imagination, through the placement of characters within the context of the story and the ever-so obvious pantomime-esque backdrops, to subtly foreshadow not only this idea of contradictions between light & darkness and two irreconcilable worlds, but to also illuminate personal feelings and experiences. Films such as Franksweenie and Corpse Bride, coincidentally two full-length stop-motion features, exude these motifs rather simply and broadly. However, if there's one Burton feature that displays the aforementioned themes in a rather complex fashion, it's that of Edward Scissorhands as both of the contextual and formatic tendencies blend within one another in a poetic and intricate demonstration. From the contrasting backdrops of the rather obliviously colourful suburban bungalows and the rather darkly bold and derelict gothic mansion, of which the character of Edwards initially resides in, to the contrasting behaviours between said protagonist and the neighbours who are fixated towards Edward's appearance, it's a premise that presents itself to be lugubrious yet psychologically ironic. Whereas the character of Edward is portrayed to be a figure that has just come from a B-Horror feature, his persona throughout the course of the running-time essentially provides the film with some sympathetic poignancy; despite the overly-gothic undertones. It's his innocence of not understanding the 'norm' of reality, as ironically constructed by Burton since Scissorhands came from the expressive directors own drawings that reflected his own feelings of isolation and being unable to communicate to people around him in suburban Burbank, which makes us feel for the Edward's placement, since the other characters that reside within this colourful projection of family living provide Edward the essential tools to his downfall. It's their callous approach in using Edward as a means of pleasure, through cutting hedges in decorative figures and cutting hair in an ornamental fashion, which not only provides the film with this idea of complexity in terms of social roles, but again, warrants us to take-up Edward's perspective even more. One aspect of narrative that was handled with care from both Burton and screenplay writer Caroline Thompson was the deliberate romanticism between Edward and Kim, Peg's daughter, since it never comes across as an overblown construct of the story. As much as it's evident to see where Edward's adherence will ally with, the romantic side of the narrative isn't projected in a way that is pretentious; despite the film arguably adopting a light-hearted look. It's handled in a way that is refined since there are other pivotal factors to the film that culminate Edward's overall character. Even when certain scenarios take place near the conclusion, the connection that Kim finds with Edward is beautifully portrayed and, because Burton allows his central characters to emotionally expand so much in the latter stages of the structure, it's equally touching to perceive for those who've never watched the film before. If there's one complacent misgiving to be had with Edward Scissorhands' contextualisation, it is the unfortunate lack of depth that makes said film fall-behind the likes of Burton's other filmic works of Big Eyes and Batman. As much as the purposefully bland exterior of colourful homes, which contrasts with Edward's fantastically-outlandish look, provides us with enough assumption of the narratives outcome, it's disappointing that with the flashbacks that are provided of Edward and the inventor that created him that we don't get to see more scenes like this. Not to say that the film doesn't fulfil its purpose of making us connect with the central character. There's just much information left to be desired and it would have been much more of an intriguing watch if more flashback scenes were implemented in a longer run-time.
In spite of the notion that Scissorhands doesn't fully appropriate it's own contextual concept to its fullest measure, if there's one profound aspect to take away from Burton's film-making in the aforesaid feature, it's the way in which he implements contrapuntal and imaginative formalities that results towards a rewarding viewing experience. As much as it can be argued that the backdrop depicted in the film brazenly comments on this idea of suburban utopia and the rather subtle consumerist look of the contemporary outlook of the nuclear family stereotype, since Scissorhands is based on sketches that Burton drew in his younger years which reflects the isolation he had growing-up in suburban Burbank as mentioned before, the stylisation in which said director applies to modern-day fairy-tale appropriately unearths pathos and wonderment that you can be easily ensnared by. From the ever-curious camera movements which visually provide the necessary juxtaposition that Burton tries to get across, as seen within the opening sequence when the looming-camera scours the ever-colourful landscape of houses which is quickly followed-up to a moment where Peg moves her car wing-mirror to see the inventor's looming mansion, to the story-book-esque production design which palpably manages both of the light and dark tones of the film, it can't be denied that Edward Scissorhands prevails in charming audiences with its visually estranged subtly. In many ways, there are subtle nuances which hallmark back to Robert Wiene's The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari; specifically whenever we're presented with an interior shot of the mansion and the amalgamation of the lighting and mise en scène highlights the surrealistic essence of what Burton's trying to convey. If there was ever a scene which finely showcases Burton's ever-distinct visual nature however, it's the sequence in which we see Kim, daughter of Peg, dancing around near Edward's angelic ice-sculpture. Perpetuated by Danny Elfman's specific musical score of 'Ice Dance', this particular scene, in many ways, encapsulates Burton's film-making purpose of adding conspicuous charm and intimacy and is presented in a way that strongly accentuates the directors affinity for the subject-matter at hand. It's clear enough, with all that's displayed, that this intricate film-maker undertook filming Scissorhands with a serious demeanour.
As the film centres around a rather distinguishing persona, much of the films acclaim wouldn't have been recognised if it wasn't for the enactments that each actor/actress gives for their respective character. This certainly goes for the portrayal that Jonny Depp provides in playing the quirky yet complex figure of Edward. As much as it may seem that Depp isn't acting in a way that's overly screen-grabbing in a costume that has the likenesses of a horror antagonist and someone dressed as a bizarre kabuki performer, it's the subtly of his enactment that nicely brings about this eloquence of the silent-cinema into the contemporary age. In saying very little, Depp, through the ever tremulous and expressionate facial expressions, manages to summon the appropriate tendencies of the character - anxiety, melancholy and innocence - with heartbreaking sentiment. Of course, praising said actor in such a fashion would be normal for any cinema-goer reader to see, considering Depp, in modern times, has become one of the select few character-actors to embroil our viewing experience. However, considering the fact that the role he confidently played relied on hardly a few words and has gone-on to relish performing similar types of characters in different types of films, the least that you can say of Depp in Scissorhands is that he remains consistent throughout the run-time and immerses himself into Burton's imagination. Much of the same can be said of Dianne Wiest's contribution as Peg since she, along with the many of characters that reside within the Balamory of estates, brings the applicable contrast the central characters apprehensive disposition and warrants enough class to not become bored of seeing said character on multiple occasions. Winona Ryder, who was dating Depp at the time of this films release, similarly provides the same contrast also and provides chemistry with the central performance which, in turn, reinforces the beautiful outlook of this fantastical feature.
To determine which particular Tim Burton film is the finest isn't something that can be easily determined. However, if there was any moment in time when considering and deliberating over which Burton feature was the director's best, it would be hard to argue against one of his earliest work in Edward Scissorhands considering that it finally gave the well-versed film-maker the initial chance to unleash his visual prowess along with a narrative that corresponds to the meaningful feelings of the auteur. As much as it's portrayed to be viewed as a contemporary fairy-tale that amalgamates the obvious gothic undertones with the eluded poignancy, Scissorhands is an oddly unique flick that doesn't always conform to its typical genre clichΓ©s and, instead, moulds eccentric formatic approaches with distinctive themes of romanticism, irony and contradiction that averts itself from features of similar ilk. There are of course hindrances, as far as the story-depth is concerned. However, for those who've never had the laid there set of eyes on the aforementioned film, it's a certainty that you won't be disappointed when watching the very feature...
On that note, it's time for me to end this week's films review. As always everyone, thank you for reading my latest retro film review of Edward Scissorhands and I hope you've enjoyed the read! π If anyone has an opinion on either my review or on the film itself, you're more than welcome to comment your thoughts down below. As far as the schedule is concerned for Blog Posts, I do need to work on my year-end series of things, so there could be a chance that you won't be seeing a Film Review from me for a bit of a while. There's a chance that I could do another retro Film Review. However, it's more than likely that my next Film Review will be in the form of Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi. Nevertheless, thank you once again for reading this week's Blog Post, I know things have been a bit sloppy from myself; the month of December has always been somewhat hectic in getting things done! π
I hope you all have a nice week and I'll see you all soon! Adieu! πππ€✁❄π
8/10 - Alex Rabbitte
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