Tim Burton has been acknowledged as one of Hollywood’s more eccentric working filmmakers, and with good reason. His sensibility and personal style are readily apparent in the works he has produced, directed, and the characters that he has created. Burton’s singular visual style is frequently the first thing that many viewers notice about his films and one of their most easily identifiable traits. Beyond the visual similarities surface imagery, however, several common themes bind Burton’s work together into an oeuvre that illuminates and expounds upon an attitude that is frequently lost in our contemporary culture; primary amongst these themes is the ideal of the preservation of wonder.

Some Burton’s films that exhibit this thematic fixation best are The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993), Ed Wood (1994), Edward Scissorhands (1990), and Big Fish (2003). In all of these films, a sense of wonder is either apparent in the protagonist and drives his actions, is necessary for other characters to understand and accept the protagonist, or both. It is a sense of wonder that is the critical element in creating meaning within these narratives, and they are particularly illustrative of Burton’s message as an auteur.

In the stop-motion animated feature The Nightmare Before Christmas, which features characters and a story that Tim Burton created and which was directed by animator Henry Selick, the protagonist is Jack Skellington, king of Halloweentown. Jack, who usually delights in his life’s work of organizing Halloween frights for children the world over, has lost his passion for his work. Halloween no longer inspires him. One afternoon, Jack is out walking when he happens upon a series of doors; he is drawn toward one door in particular and, stepping through it, he stumbles into Christmastown. Christmastown is full of new sensations, new sights, inspiring surprises, and it captures Jack’s imagination. He decides to steal Christmas for himself and embarks on a plot, with the assistance of the denizens of Halloweentown, to abduct Santa Claus and take over preparations for Christmas. A comedy of errors ensues, even as Jack manages to spread the wonder of Christmas to his comrades in Halloweentown; Halloween is in their nature, and they don’t quite grasp the bright and happy concept behind Christmastown. All of their creations for Christmas have an aura of the macabre about them, and when they bring their “new and improved” Christmas to the children of the world, they succeed only in frightening the children and instigating a panicked and violent reaction to this new “Sandy Claws”. Jack, defeated, begins to lose hope, until Sally, his love interest, convinces him that Halloween is his strong suit – and, of course, he can still enjoy Christmas even if he isn’t in charge of it.

Jack’s joy and wonder in Christmas, and the zeal with which he brings Christmas to the residents of Halloweentown, is infectious and reminiscent of the excitement at Christmas that many viewers may have experienced as young children. Jack shows us a view of Christmas that is full of magic and possibility, or pretty lights and wondrous surprises. While his Christmas is a failure because it doesn’t meet the expectations of others, Jack and his helpers have created their Christmas out of their hearts and best intentions. Their version of Christmas is comical, but it is also the true product of characters who are, simply, themselves. Jack’s sense of wonder at Christmas and its magic are what drive him, and therefore what drives the film. Jack Skellington is an impassioned creator as well as an optimist, and he pursues his vision with joy. In this way, Jack is very similar to another of Burton’s protagonists, filmmaker Ed Wood, in Burton’s 1994 bio-pic Ed Wood.

Burton’s Ed Wood, starring Johnny Depp, is a light hearted bio-pic, one that is more an ode to Wood’s spirit and stick-to-itiveness than a reverential treatment of the life of the infamous B-movie director of 1959’s Plan 9 From Outer Space, a film widely regarded as “the worst film ever made”. Burton was drawn to the project out of a sense of kinship with and affection for Wood, who died in obscurity before his films were resurrected as cult classics in the early 1980s. In the interview compilation Burton on Burton, Tim Burton says of Ed Wood:

“What I liked about Ed Wood is that he is so optimistic. The thing I was taken by back when I’d read interviews with Ed Wood, especially since I knew the movies and the other aspects of his life, was his extreme optimism, to the point where there was an incredible amount of denial. And there’s something charming to me about that.” (131)

This optimism, as well as a sense of creative vitality, passion, and wonder, is clearly shown to be the driving force behind Wood’s most productive years. Burton’s film also makes the case that it is these qualities of Wood’s that inspired his motley group of actors, backers, and hangers-on; the people surrounding Wood in Burton’s film are, in large part, just as enthusiastic about and dedicated to their work as Wood himself is. They believe they are following Wood’s over-arching creative vision. They believe that they are producing good work that will bring them fame and recognition. More importantly, they are all happy to be caught up in the fun and excitement of producing these pictures, and no one except Wood’s girlfriend Dolores (Sarah Jessica Parker) sees the films as being poorly made or “bad”. In Dolores’ climactic moment, she storms out of a cast party where everyone is enjoying themselves by watching Ed dance in drag. As she leaves, Dolores shouts at them, “You people are insane! Take a look around - you're all freaks! You're wasting your lives making shit! Nobody cares! These movies are terrible!”

Ed is crushed, but he continues to work and to care for his friend, the aging actor Bela Lugosi (played by Martin Landau, who won an Oscar for his portrayal of Lugosi). While Lugosi is hospitalized for his addiction to morphine, Ed meets Kathy O’Hara (Patricia Arquette), and they begin seeing one another. Kathy accepts Ed’s transvestism without question and is supportive of and involved in his filmmaking. She understands him, and with Kathy’s help, Ed is able to continue his work even after Lugosi’s death. (As the film’s closing captions inform us, Ed and Kathy Wood were happily married until his death in 1978. She never remarried.)

This acceptance of Wood’s optimistic outlook is central to the film’s tone and message. Ed Wood’s work may be derided critically now, as it was when he first released his films, but Burton’s film suggests that there is something admirable about Wood’s enthusiasm. As Burton says in Burton on Burton:

“I grew up loving Plan 9, which is a movie you see when you’re a kid and it remains with you. And then later on, Wood gets acknowledged as the worst director in the world, and then starts to get a little bit more known, and then there are festivals, and they show his movies and everybody laughs at them. But the thing is, when you watch his movies, yeah, they are bad, but they’re special. There’s some reason why these movies remain there, and are acknowledged, beyond the fact that they’re purely bad. There’s a certain consistency to them, and a certain kind of weird artistry. I mean, they are unlike any other thing. He didn’t let technicalities like visible wires and bad sets distract him from his story-telling. There’s a twisted form of integrity in that.” (130)

Burton’s respect for Wood comes from this appreciation of Wood’s enthusiasm for his work, and it comes through clearly in Burton’s film depiction of Ed Wood’s life and work. While Ed Wood is a fictionalized account, Burton makes an effort to stay true to the spirit of the individuals as he understands them. He never mocks them, but he does not take the reverential tone that bogs down many biographical films. The audience has the clear sense that Burton is with the characters, that he identifies with them and with their goals. The film is one of Burton’s most charming, because of this delicate balance between identification with the characters and the sense that there is humor and folly behind their tale; this balance echoes the lives of, perhaps, people in the audience. The film suggests to us as viewers that if we approach our own lives with a sense of excitement, passion, and humor, if we are satisfied with our work on our own terms, then that is all that matters. If we maintain a sense of wonder about our own lives, then we can be happy within them. The film ends at the height of Wood’s personal happiness; Burton has said that, by ending his film on a good note, he sought to downplay the real Ed Wood’s spiral into obscurity and increasing failure. What he has captured with the film Ed Wood, however, is one of his most optimistic films to date – a kind of quirky fable centering on Hollywood’s most infamous B-grade director.

Edward Scissorhands is a different sort of fable. The film begins with an elderly woman telling her granddaughter the story of snow – why it falls and who creates it. The title character, Edward (played by Johnny Depp), is a man who was created by a reclusive inventor. Edward’s creator died before he could complete his masterpiece, leaving Edward with the long blades of scissors for hands. Since his “father’s” death, Edward has lived in isolation in the hilltop mansion that overlooks a clean, pastel-colored suburb. One afternoon, the local Avon lady, Peg Boggs (Dianne Wiest), decides to ring the bell of the aging mansion and finds it to be deserted – except for Edward. Out of a sense of pity and a genuine desire to help this strange young man, she takes Edward home with her. She dresses him as best she can in her husband’s clothes and the family – Peg, her husband Bill (Alan Arkin), and her two children Kevin (Robert Oliveri) and Kim (Winona Ryder) – adopts Edward and takes him under their wing. At first, the entire neighborhood is fascinated by Edward. The housewives find ways to allow Edward to help around the house – cutting food for dinner, trimming hedges, and eventually acting as their hairdresser – and the husbands offer Edward advice about how to be a real man. Kim’s high school friends, most notably her boyfriend Jim (Anthony Michael Hall), at first regard Edward as an oddity and something of a laughingstock.

Edward’s initial sense of wonder and exploration in the suburban community is echoed, in the beginning of the film, by the wonder and curiosity that the neighbors show for him. As Edward becomes worldlier and as the neighbors reveal their flaws, assumptions, and self-centered attitudes, Edward’s innocence is damaged. Jim uses Edward in an attempt to rob Jim’s parents of their expensive and well-guarded home theater equipment, and when Edward takes the fall (to cover Kim’s involvement) the neighborhood begins to regard him as a danger. Knowing the truth about the incident, Kim is drawn to Edward, and she begins to see him for who he truly is, as opposed to what his appearance might indicate. Kim, once the cynical, popular high school cheerleader with the wild, jock boyfriend, finds her attitudes about herself and her social life changing through her friendship and growing love for Edward.

The scene, which most evocatively portrays the sense of wonder that Edward restores to Kim, is the pivotal scene in the film; it is the scene that anchors the frame device of the story of snowfall. As part of the decorations for the Boggs’ Christmas party, Edward is carving a large ice sculpture in their backyard. As his scissor hands fly, flakes of ice fly from the emerging sculpture and drift down, like snowfall, over Kim. There is a brief but gloriously shot sequence of Kim dancing in the snow in the midst of the seemingly tropical climate of her suburb. The joy apparent on Kim’s face is at the emotional heart of the film; Edward has, in this moment, helped to restore Kim’s sense of wonder and joy in the world.

Jim interrupts this loving and very moving moment, bursting in to confront Kim over her feelings for Edward, and shouting angrily about the accidental injury that Edward causes to Kim upon Jim’s arrival. Edward flees the house; the neighborhood, all of whom were preparing for the Boggs’ party, is in an uproar. When Kevin Boggs is nearly hit by a van (driven by an Jim’s intoxicated friend), the neighbors misconstrue the rescue as an attack. The mob pursues Edward back to the aging mansion, where there is a confrontation between Edward and Jim that results in Jim’s death. Kim, as a witness to the truth, makes the decision to protect Edward; out of her love for him, she deceives the rest of the town into believing that Edward is dead as well.

In a fairy tale ending, Edward remains in the mansion on the hill, tending his garden and, in the winter, carving ice sculptures whose shavings blow down onto the neighborhood below, creating snow. The town has forgotten him, and no one thinks anything more of the seemingly abandoned mansion looming at the edge of their street. The only one who remembers is Kim, who passes the story down to her grandchildren, instilling in them a sense of wonder, and an understanding that love sees the true person inside, as opposed to that person’s appearance. It is clear, by the end of the film, that Kim’s renewed sense of wonderment has carried her through her life to this moment of safety and familial security.

In Tim Burton’s most recent film, Big Fish, storytelling and the urge to understand the fables of one’s own family are the central subject matter. When Will (Billy Crudup) hears from his mother that his father Ed Bloom (Albert Finney) is dying, he and his wife return to Will’s childhood home to spend his father’s last days together. Will, a journalist who has expatriated to Paris, has always been frustrated by what he sees as his father’s chronic inability to tell the simple truth. Bloom spins grand yarns, and has always told Will of his adventures as a youth. Where Bloom sees the great stories, and perhaps truths, of his life, Will sees a reflection of a father who was frequently away from home – a man who still refuses to give him the truth in its simplest form.

When Will comes to meet his father on his deathbed, he asks him one last time for the truth. The film is a series of flashbacks as Bloom tells Will, once again, the same tall tales he has always told him. Bloom’s tales are full of color, life, and full of unbelievable and fantastic characters. His stories draw the audience into a world where anything can, and does, happen; a world in which Bloom leads a charmed life and befriends everyone he meets. Bloom’s tales are fantasies that have a basis in reality, which we learn as the film unfolds and Will begins to unravel the mysteries behind his father’s version of the truth and a more mundane explanation.

Over the course of the film, it becomes apparent that Bloom’s sense of wonder is what propelled him through life – through difficult times in the war, through a grueling salesman’s job that kept him away from his beloved wife and his only child. His life did contain extraordinary acts of kindness – such as the time he purchased, piece by piece, the entire town of Spectre, in order to save it – but these were truths that he embellished to make them better reflect the meaning that they had for him. Bloom’s life felt, to him, larger than life; his tales had to be big enough to match it.

Will is slow to come to this realization, and when it does come, it’s nearly too late. Moments before his father’s death, Will recognizes that his journalistic idea of “the truth” is too rigid. He understands, suddenly, that his father’s version of things has the seed of truth in it, and that it contains the emotional truth of Bloom’s understanding of himself and the world around him. Much in the same way that fairy tales and fables impart a grain of truth or knowledge contained in fantasy, Bloom’s tales have contained the truth of who he is, wrapped in the embellishments of his lively mind.

Will helps his father to die as he lived, wrapped within the world that Bloom had created for himself. Will accepts his father’s truth and immerses himself in it during his father’s last few moments of life. After an astounding sequence in which Will tells the story of his father’s transformation into a massive catfish, surrounded by all the friends Bloom made throughout his travels, Will and his family attend his father’s funeral. Will and his wife are astonished at how many people have turned out, and even more surprised to see that they recognize many of the people there from Bloom’s stories. Everyone around them is joyfully remembering Ed Bloom, and they are doing so through the stories that he told them about themselves and about each other. This completes Will’s revelation and frees him from his devotion to only one kind of truth. As the film closes, we see Will’s son telling his grandfather’s stories to his young friends, and doing so with Will’s approving participation.

The reconciliation of Will and his father in Big Fish is yet another example of the importance of having a sense of wonder, and of understanding the importance of that sense. These characters, like the characters in Burton’s other films, understand (or learn to understand) the connection between fantasy and identity. They understand that reality has to do with how you choose to perceive the things around you, and that happiness has a great deal to do with one’s outlook. If we can maintain our optimism, our sense of wonder, then we have a decent shot at happiness and at seeing past one another’s flaws.

These films are also very much about accepting people as they are, without forcing our own expectations on who they should be and what they should do. The characters who end up happiest and most at peace with themselves are the characters who are willing to accept a more complex view of the world than the one they began with.

Tim Burton’s films can come across as dark, macabre, and eccentric, but this is largely a product of their visual style. Burton’s imagination produces images that can be unsettling and unusual, even grim. However, his films operate in a way that is similar to the messages given within them. Looking past the eccentric surface reveals a world where people are free to follow their passions and their hearts, where fantasy is accepted and encouraged. Burton’s films may seem unusual, and indeed they are, but much in the same way that Kim came to understand Edward for who he was in spite of his strange exterior, Burton’s films contain messages of hope, of optimism, and of acceptance.

This duality makes Tim Burton’s films fascinating to watch, and even more fascinating to rewatch. New layers are revealed with every examination. From simple tales based in fantasy, Tim Burton has created an alternate world with multiple lessons to offer, and provided audiences with an opportunity to experience a renewed sense of wonder with each viewing.

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Bibliography

Burton, Tim and Mark Salisbury, ed. Burton on Burton. London, England: Faber and Faber. 2000.

Big Fish. Dir. Tim Burton. Perf. Billy Crudup, Albert Finney, Ewan McGregor, Helena Bonham Carter. Columbia Pictures, 2003.

Ed Wood. Dir. Tim Burton. Perf. Johnny Depp, Sarah Jessica Parker, Martin Landau, Patricia Arquette. Touchstone Pictures, 1994.

Edward Scissorhands. Dir. Tim Burton. Perf. Johnny Depp, Winona Ryder, Dianne Wiest, Anthony Michael Hall, Alan Arkin. Twentieth Century Fox, 1990.

The Nightmare Before Christmas. Dir. Henry Selick. Perf. Catherine O’Hara, Chris Sarandon, Danny Elfman. Touchstone Pictures, 1993.