Tim Burton's Loss of Talent

I positively hate it when otherwise talented filmmakers find a formula (which might be erroneous) and decide to stick to it. Why do they do it? Because it works, they say. Because it is my trademark, my seal, if you will, they say. 


Because they are lazy and uncreative, I say.


Take M. Night Shyamalan: with The Sixth Sense, he created a fantastic movie, engrossing, atmospheric, and original at a time when Hollywood is apparently busier looking for the next big remake. He signed contracts for more movies. But, wrongly assuming that what made his movie great was the unexpected twist, his next films suffered from being forced into this same situation. Unbreakable was a fantastic concept that sort of worked. Signs and The Village became a showcase of further creative stagnation. And when he finally lets his imagination free again, he unsubtly goes all out against his critics in Lady in the Water. Here we have a guy who is brilliant at creating atmosphere, and able to at least come up with intriguing ideas, but smothers his films in a misguided effort to stick to his 'formula'.


There is another example in Michael Bay. He has given us some good films, like Bad Boys and The Island. But his formula has been distilled by now: get a hot girl, a likable hero or two, enough explosions to level London, and smother everything in over the top special effects. This doesn't mean his films are less entertaining. Sometimes they are fun to watch (Transformers, Armaggedon), sometimes they are dreadful at best (Transformers 2, Bad Boys II). No work of art, his pictures, but at least some are watchable.


Many great filmmakers have found themselves in this hole. And so does Tim Burton nowadays. His formula is very standardized by now: a creepy character played by Johnny Depp (Willy Wonka, Sweeney Todd, The Mad Hatter), some other creepy female character played by Helena Bonham-Carter (who is as bi-dimensional an actress as you can get without actually being a cartoon), music by Danny Elfman (who ails from the same "I've found my style/formula!" problem), and a visual design which was overwhelmingly original the first few times, but which has become stylistically inert by now.





Alice in Wonderland could have avoided Tim Burton's name in all the advertising, title, and even the film itself, and everybody would still have automatically known it was Tim Burton's film. Frankly, he could have used an alias and we would still be able to recognize the author. This is not a mark of genius. This is a signal of lazy creativity (or absolute lack thereof) and a total waste of budget.


Big Fish is one of the best films of all time in my personal opinion. 1989's Batman with Jack Nicholson ranks as one of the best Batman films, superseded only by Nolan's more recent treatments. In fact, most of Burton's filmography prior to Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is part of my personal library of favourite films, with few exceptions (Sleepy Hollow was dreadful, for example, and his Planet of the Apes an absolute insult).


Alice in Wonderland is a not very entertaining film that reveals a once talented filmmaker trapped in a cage of his own design. I am sure he has the genius to break out of it, and, while remaining true to his style, get rid of his formula. But for now, he has only a complete loss of talent to show the world.