Told as its own sort of fairy tale (complete with storybook
narration), Tim Burton’s “Big Eyes” brings an unusual story of artistic
deception to the screen. In the late 50’s and early 60’s, Walter Keane’s (Christoph Waltz) kitschy paintings of sad, large-eyed waifs
became wildly popular, bringing him fame and untold fortune when he had the
brilliant idea of mass-producing the images. The only problem? He didn’t create
the paintings; his wife, Margaret (Amy Adams) was the true artist responsible
for the works. Walter claimed credit for the paintings, convincing Margaret
that they would sell more if people believed he was the artist since “people
don’t buy lady art.”
Adams is
typically great, bringing a heartbreaking fragility to her role as Margaret,
but her subtle performance often feels as though it belongs in a completely
different film from her co-star. Waltz can be a fantastic actor, but his
cartoonish scenery-chewing is pitched at such a tone that it wouldn’t feel out
of place amongst the CGI creations that have marked Burton’s most recent films.
It’s as though no one bothered to tell Waltz what type of film the director was
making this time around. As written and performed, he’s such a buffoon that it
becomes difficult to imagine anyone would trust the words coming out of his
mouth, having the unintended effect of forcing the audience to view Margaret as
being dim-witted enough to trust her obviously sociopathic husband.
The disconnect constantly threatens to throw the film
completely off-kilter, but even so, it’s a fascinating story. Working with
screenwriters Scott Alexander and Larry Karaszewski (“Ed
Wood”), Burton delivers the best work he’s done in some time; it’s a welcome
relief to see Burton breaking out of his recent glut of lackluster,
effects-heavy films.
This article appears in Dec 24-30, 2014.
