The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993)

Director: Henry Selick

Cast: Danny Elfman, Chris Sarandon, Catherine O’Hara, William Hickey

Have I Seen it Before: Oh, sure. It’s one of the clearer memories I have of being excited about a movie as a kid, being a little disappointed by it at the time*, and then realizing within a few short years that I was a fool.

Did I Like It: Just as the Star Wars prequels might be the most cogent argument for the auteur theory in semi-modern moviemaking, this film is its antithesis. If the director is the author of the film, then this should be thought of as Henry Selick’s The Nightmare Before Christmas.

But it really, really isn’t.

It makes Tim Burton such a fascinating filmmaker. He can have such a singular, easily identifiable point of view. In some films (Batman Returns (1992), Edward Scissorhands (1990)) that vision comes through. In others, (Batman (1989), Planet of The Apes (2001)) he’s a hired hand, meant only to offer his name, and almost no artistic vision to the the proceedings.

And then there’s this film, which might be the most fully realized manifestation of the Tim Burton image, and he wasn’t the director.

I’m not going to say that this is my favorite movie of all time, or even that it ranks in the top twenty. Ultimately pure Burtonianism might work in small doses, but it is one of the most successful mastering of a film succeeding on its own terms. There is never a moment of doubt—unlike Jack Skellington’s (Elfman singing, Sarandon for everything else) arc—as to what this film wants to be. Every single decision serves the mise en scene.

And if that wasn’t enough to recommend the film: I’ve even started to like the songs. Amazing what thirty years can accomplish.

*Not one commercial made it clear that I was walking into a musical. Nine-year-olds really need to be warned about such things.

The Death of 'Superman Lives': What Happened? (2015)

Director: Jon Schnepp

Cast: Nicolas Cage, Tim Burton, Kevin Smith, Jon Peters

Have I Seen it Before: I’ve heard Smith tell his small part of the story, and I patiently sat through the more esoteric part of the third act of The Flash (2023). What more is there?

Did I Like It: My largest complaint is that absolute beast of a title. Why “What Happened”? If we take the logic that added that subtitle, it should be on every documentary. Ken Burns’ The Civil War: What Happened? Capturing the Friedmans: What Happened? Hearts of Darkness: What Happened?

Utter madness.

To the film’s credit, there’s at least something more to it, and Schnepp finds that something more. Smith is here to tell his side of the story again, but we also get Jon Peters largely living up to that legend, while still managing to deny he ever insisted that Superman not fly in the film as he developed it.

I’m surprised they could get Burton on the record about the whole thing, but his insights are more fascinating than anything else. I’m surprised that the fate of the film still sort of bothers him, and that he was ever going to get talked into doing a superhero film for Warner Bros. again after the apathy they berated him with in the wake of Batman Returns (1992).

But the thing that I’m most surprised to see is that there was at least a possibility, had Superman Lives been actually made, it might have actually worked. Simply put, despite teaser posters sent and test footage shot, this film was a very long way from coming to pass. Were they actually filming, Burton would have found some way to bring his vision to a project that never felt on spec like it was going to be a fit.

The studio would have hated it, and the McDonald’s high command would have a riot, but that’s when Burton can really start to cook.

Or he just would have made this instead of his Planet of the Apes (2001). That’s the thing about films that are never made. They can either be the greatest thing you will never see, or it can be so insanely bad that the human brain simply can’t process its dimensions.

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice (2024)

Director: Tim Burton

Cast: Michael Keaton, Winona Ryder, Catherine O’Hara, Jenna Ortega

Have I Seen it Before: Clearly, never. I did once have a dream when I was kid that I had lost my VHS copy of Beetlejuice 2, and was bereft to have the film leave my life. There was a time* when I wasn’t even sure I wanted a sequel to Beetlejuice (1988), but the Michael Keaton Rule** does prevail.

Then, I got more and more excited about the whole thing. Couple that with the odyssey that it took to actually get me into a theater on opening weekend, and I would have liked any old thing projected on the screen.

Did I Like It: I’ve seen the movie twice now—once to let it all wash over me, and a second to take more diligent notes for the soon-to-be-recorded episode of Beyond the Cabin in the Woods—and I’m happy to report it is not only pretty good, it is largely very good, and I’m not damning it with faint praise. It’s easily Tim Burton’s best film since they started beginning years with the number “2” and likely his best film since Ed Wood (1994). Keaton is brilliant again in the role, this time completely game for the prospect of re-visiting his 80s triumphs***. Ryder is a delight as Lydia, perpetually bewildered by the scope of her life thirty-plus years after first deciding she can see ghosts. O’Hara can do almost anything, and once again does effortless work to steal every scene she graces. Newcomer Jenna Ortega does something I didn’t think the film would be capable of and creates a new character out of Astrid, when the film would have likely been forgiven for just making Lydia’s daughter a 1:1 translation of the mother.

That’s the most delightful surprise in the film: for being a legacy sequel, the film is largely disinterested in fan service beyond the obligatory. Belafonte’s “Day-O (The Banana Boat Song)” makes the briefest of appearances, but the needle drops are all trying to forge something of a new path. The original film’s secret strengths were its army of strange and unusual**** dead people, and the fact that its depiction of the afterlife is a near Kafkaesque exploration of the bureaucratic. Both elements are in full force here.

In fact, the only real complaint I have about the film is one I didn’t think I was going to have going into the theater. Elfman’s score is just a rehashing of tracks from the original, with a menu of new noises added into the mix. I wanted more here, but then I realized it has been a very, very long time since Elfman wrote a really memorable score. Burton stepped up to the plate here, but it’s just a bit disappointing that Elfman didn’t do the same thing.

*It was never more profound than immediately after seeing The Flash (2023), around the time this film was already in production. I probably had that thought more than a few times during the endless series of stops and starts in the process. I am happy to report that the film doesn’t end with Betelgeuse being exorcised and being replaced by a different kind of Betelgeuse played by George Clooney. Had they pulled that trick again, I would not have been okay, and I said so.

**Sometimes called the Multiplicity (1996) amplifier, wherein a film is inherently better

***Man, the more that I think about The Flash, the more I have problems with it, huh?

****Apparently I tripped into more fan service in that sentence than the film is interested in for its runtime.

Planet of the Apes (2001)

Director: Tim Burton

Cast: Mark Wahlberg, Tim Roth, Helena Bonham Carter, Michael Clarke Duncan

Have I Seen It Before: Yes. For the life of me, I can’t remember if I saw it in theaters, but I’m almost certain I would have. I do remember that the DVD had a diagram that tried to make sense out of the time warp-y qualities of the plot… And you can imagine how helpful it might have been.

Did I Like It: I’ve always thought of the film as an extremely average exercise, punctuated by an unnervingly confusing ending.

Twenty-plus years later, and nothing has really changed. If there’s a movie where it was more clear that Burton showed up to call “action!” and “cut!” for the money alone, then it would probably be <Batman (1989)>. That’s a lie. At least Batman had some clowns in it and a sense of art and the artistic.

I can’t help but think of what this film could have been during the many years it spent languishing in development hell. For a minute, there was a version in the 90s starring Schwarzenegger and directed by Cameron. If that doesn’t make you feel like you were robbed, then I really don’t know what to do with you.

It’s not as if there is nothing of value in the movie. It sports one of the last great (yes, I did say that) Danny Elfman scores. Also, while the apes makeup is a quantum leap forward from the days of Roddy McDowall*, the individual ape performances—especially from Roth, Bonham Carter, and Paul Giamatti—allow for a lot more ape-like behavior out of the characters than before.

If only they had inhabited a story worth watching, or for that mater, worth understanding. The deck was stacked against the film as it felt the need to match the awe-inspiring quality of <the original’s> conclusion. I can’t imagine that this was what anyone—filmmaker or viewer alike—wanted. Even now, years later, I try to make sense of just what is happening in this film’s final minutes. There are a few seconds where I almost get there, and then it slips away. And if the film which preceded it, I might feel the need to keep trying to work it ll out.

*As I wrap up my reviews of the Apes films, I realize I may be afforded relatively few opportunities to refer back to Roddy MacDowall, which always lends itself to this strangely foundational memory. My parents insisted McDowall was the voice of C-3PO in the Star Wars films. I was correct in my insistence that it was in fact Anthony Daniels who played the robot. I even showed them the end credits of one of the movies on VHS. They still insist that Roddy McDowall was in Star Wars, and by that logic was still appearing in Star Wars films several decades after his death.

Ed Wood (1994)

Director: Tim Burton

Cast: Johnny Depp, Martin Landau, Sarah Jessica Parker, Patricia Arquette

Have I Seen it Before: Big time.

Did I Like It: If you’ve known me for any length of time, you’ve probably heard about my affinity for Tim Burton’s likely most famous film, Batman (1989). I’ve owned it in five different formats, and have probably watched it more than any other film in history…

But it isn’t my favorite Tim Burton film. Not by a long shot.

The story of Edward D. Wood, Jr. isn’t a very nice story. A man with not a lot of talent doesn’t let that stop him, he proceeds to make movies despite that lack of talent, and the pursuit of those dreams did not bring him fortune, or glory, or even some mild sense of fulfillment. They only exacerbated his alcoholism and left him to die in squalor.

But the film stops before any of the truly tragic realities of Wood’s life can creep into the frame (indeed, they are mentioned only in codas before the end credits). It is a story about hope springing eternal against all odds (and even reality). It’s uplifting, and it’s about friendship at its core. Johnny Depp is never more reserved (or, for that matter, better) than he is in the title role, and Landau’s well-deserved Oscar for his turn as an at-the-end-of-his-rope Bela Lugosi makes this Burton’s strangest and most personal film, when it really should lay claim to neither.

I’m not even all that weirded out that for one of the few times (the others being, naturally Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street (2007) and oddly, Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children (2016)) when Danny Elfman is not orchestrating the score for a Burton film. I mean, I’m a little weirded out, just not a lot.

Also, with the one two punch of Vincent D’Onofrio’s face and Maurice LaMarche’s voice, this film contains the most believable, fictional portrayal of Orson Welles on film.

That doesn’t just count for something; it counts for a great deal.

Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street (2007)

Director: Tim Burton

Cast: Johnny Depp, Helena Bonham Carter, Alan Rickman, Timothy Spall

Have I Seen it Before: Yes, in some weird haze that was 2008, I have a vague recollection of owning it on DVD, but then again I owned lots of stuff back then.

Did I Like It: It’s a difficult topic to approach. Burton’s output since the early 90s has been quite a bit off balance. For every Big Fish (2003) or Big Eyes (2014)* there have been an army of Dark Shadows (2012) and Alice in Wonderland (2010) to deal with. So I will go out on a limb and say that this is Burton’s best film since the turn of the century.

And yet, I don’t think I can say I would like it.

As to why, I think format may be working against Burton. He isn’t alone in making this mistake, but in the transfer from stage musical to musical film, some things get lost. The stage play is one of big booming melodrama, whereas here the proceedings are relegated to a tiny set and tinier frames. The big-budget musicals of yore like The Sound of Music (1965) traded in their bombast (or more appropriately, enhanced it) with a sweeping sense of the cinematic. Even an urban tale like West Side Story (1961) has more of a flourish than the dourness here.

The trappings of a movie hurt the story in more ways. Johnny Depp is (or, at least, was) a movie star, but he is not a singer, and the role of Todd really only has one job. Rickman—here stuck playing the thankless and truncated role of Judge Turpin—would have made a riveting Todd. Even Buffy The Vampire Slayer’s Anthony Stewart Head** would have been transfixing here. But alas, neither are leading men at the degree needed to deliver a decent opening weekend. So we are stuck with Depp, smack dab in the middle of his “I don’t need to be an actor, I just need a really interesting wig” phase.

I’m relatively sure that phase is still ongoing, but it’s not like we’re all chomping at the bit to see Depp in pictures anymore.

As I type those paragraphs, it’s become clear that I don’t really like the film at all.

*Note to self, between those two examples and Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure (1985), Burton is to always be trusted with a film that has “big” in the title.

**Head in fact gets nothing more than a cameo. A baffling choice made all the more befuddling by the knowledge that a larger role for the actor must reside somewhere on a cutting room/hard drive.

Batman (1989)

Director: Tim Burton

Cast: Michael Keaton, Jack Nicholson*, Kim Basinger, Michael Gough

Have I Seen it Before: Let’s put it this way. There was a time when if you were to say any series of words that happened to be a line from the movie, like, say “Better be sure,” I would feel compelled to perform the next ten minutes of the movie. “See? You can make a good decision when you try. Hehehehehe. Where you been spending your nights? Well, welcome Count Dracula… Etc.”

I’ve gotten better in my advancing age, but not by much. I still perform the rest of the movie in my head, I just don’t make you watch it.

So, yes. I’ve seen it before.

Did I Like It: Is it even possible to offer criticism of a film that has lived in your head since your earliest memories? Can I ever watch this movie without watching the Michael Gough-staring Diet Coke Commercial and Bugs and Daffy demanding I call a 1-900 number for a Warner Bros. catalog (the traditional manner, as both ads appear before this film on the initial VHS release)? Is there room in the world for both a Batusi and a Batdance?

These are just some of the thrilling questions I will attempt to answer here.

The film’s production design is second to none. The film is clearly being filmed on a backlot, where every moment of action that isn’t in Stately Wayne Manor, The Gotham Globe, or Axis Chemicals**, seems to take place on the same street corner in Gotham. And yet, with matte paintings and other tricks of the camera, one is almost fooled into believing that Gotham is an actual city. Batman’s (Keaton) vehicles are wrought metal creations so indelible that while they were originally meant to adapt the then-fifty years of comics that had preceded it, but ended up becoming the ur-template for the next thirty years of interpretations of the character. 

The makeup is pretty special as well, but without the man behind it, all you’re essentially left with is Jared Leto. While Nicholson doesn’t quite pull off the same job that Heath Ledger does  in The Dark Knight (2008), but he doesn’t need to. Ledger disappeared into a character so slithery and despicable that there was incredibly little left of the actor. Nicholson chews scenery with aplomb, but isn’t the least bit interested in jettisoning the movie-star persona that had gotten him the role.

And then there’s Michael Keaton. He was shamed on spec for even approaching the role of the World’s Greatest Detective, because, I dunno Beelejuices and Messrs. Mom can’t kick ass? Once the movie actually came out—indeed, by the time the first trailer artificially inflated the box office of Deepstar Six (1989) or The January Man (1989)—he became Batman for an entire—read: my—generation. I’d love to see him reclaim the role in a Batman Beyond/The Dark Knight Returns adaption, but what really makes his performance stand out is that Keaton, as Bruce Wayne, is a stellar nerd. He’s never been able to be Bruce Wayne with any reliable success, but when he is at work, he is his best self. It also helps that he has a car that’s essentially a jet engine on wheels. Between his performance in these films and Bill Murray as Peter Venkman in Ghostbusters (1984), I had most of the attainable pillars of masculinity that I would ever need.

That probably says more about me than anything else, but I digress.

I have been effusive with praise for the film up until this point, but there is plenty that doesn’t work, and I’m not just talking about Robert Wuhl***. My generation is pretty in love with Prince, but since this film was my first exposure to his work, I’ve never found him—dare I speak ill of the dead—anything more than distracting. Also, the screenplay doesn’t hold up under even minimal scrutiny, buried as it is under the whizbang circus that Burton is far more interested in. And, here I’m not talking about Jack Napier/The Joker (Nicholson) usurping Joe Chill’s rightful place as the the murderer of Bruce Wayne’s parents. In fact, I’m only kind of talking about how eager Batman is to kill those that stand in his way. The rest of the plot is far too wobbly for its own good., too. And, on spec, it isn’t a bad plot, either! The idea of the mob getting a hold of CIA-abandoned nerve toxins and unleashing them on a city’s cosmetic product supply could make a pretty good movie, but it just isn’t particularly allowed to breathe here. The closest thing to a traditional goal-oriented story arc is handed to Vicki Vale (Basinger), but her dogged sleuthing of just what is up with both Batman and Bruce Wayne always rings a little hollow, because we have come into the film with the mystery all wrapped up in our heads. Honestly, I’ve thought a superhero story where the secret identity element becomes the back-bone of a whodunit has always appealed to me, and I may yet write it one day.

The film is chicken soup, just like mom (or, in this case, Tim Burton) used to make. I went into this screening nursing the tail end of a head cold and a stomach ache, and now I’m thrilled to say I can enjoy the films more medicinal properties the next time I don’t feel well.

So, sure, it’s worth watching, I guess. It’ll probably take upwards of thirty years for the film to reach the same level for you as it does for me, but I think you can get there.

*Some confusion about who should get top billing on this one, but I choose to go in alphabetical order. Some eagle-eyed readers will think I am giving way to bias and putting Keaton ahead of Nicholson. I’m reasonably sure that’s not what I am doing here.

**Which themselves are re-used sets from James Cameron’s Aliens (1986).

***I’m supremely confident Mr. Wuhl is a decent guy, and wouldn’t have made that crack about him if I didn’t think he was in on the joke. I once saw an interview with him where he called some other film I’ve now forgotten, “So bad, that I thought I was in it.” He seems like he knows what’s up.

Mars Attacks (1996)

Director: Tim Burton

Cast: Jack Nicholson, Glenn Close, Annette Benning, Pierce Brosnan, Everyone

Have I Seen it Before: Oh Sure.

Did I Like It: It’s exactly the movie it wants to be, and if some people can’t appreciate that, I certainly can.

The text of this review appeared previously in a blog post entitled “How Could No One Else Like These Movies? Part Two, But With No Electric Boogaloo.” published 04/30/2017.

Quick. Name your favorite alien invasion movie of 1996. The Arrival starring Charlie Sheen. Close, but not quite. Contact? Not an alien invasion movie, and wasn’t even released in ’96! Come on, folks. Get it together! 

Of course, most of you named Independence Day, and you’re still wrong. Roland Emmerich’s urban destruction-fest is so removed from any sense of irony, that it’s almost impossible to bear. On the other hand, Tim Burton’s running B-movie homage—à la the epic comedies of the ‘60s like It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World (1963)—has a cast of what feels like thousands. Pam Grier! Tom Jones! Quarterback* Jim Brown! Also, Jack Nicholson channels his inner Peter Sellers and pulls double roles as the beleaguered American President James Dale, and casino developer Art Land**. What’s not to love? 

Apparently, in the golden age of irony that was the 1990s, there wasn’t room for such a movie. But guys (and ladies), let’s get real. It’s a big Tim Burton movie that doesn’t have Johnny Depp putting a new wig through a shakedown cruise***. How many more of those are we likely to get?

*Which I'm told is some kind of footballman.

**Were the movie made today, those two roles could be filled by the same character. Courage, folks. We’ll get through this together.

***To be fair, Nicholson goes through at least two wigs in the movie, but it’s not like that became his whole life from that point on.