Reel Life
A rejuvenated Tim Burton cooks up a delicious fish tale in "Big Fish." (Film Review)
by Michael Sean McGowan
Big Fish is an amalgamation of the wonderful and bizarre; it carries on its back only the best traditions of several larger-than-life forms of storytelling. As much as it is a modern-day tip of the hat to Aesop's moral fables, it also has the "quest" theme of a Greek hero poem, complete with a wild adventure that spans a life and colorful and unique characters to stop and visit along the way. Like last year's surprising Secondhand Lions it lets the air out of the idea that the truth is stranger than fiction. The truth may be the truth, the themes of both films seemed to be, however it knowingly acknowledges the fact that our most well known histories do not come from documented texts but from oral tales that more than once strained credibility. This doesn't mean human beings are stupid or even naive.
It just means that, sometimes, we like to hear a really good yarn.
Big Fish begins with an elder Edward Bloom (Albert Finney) regaling a wedding reception party with the story of how he tried to catch the largest fish in Alabama (and ended up almost losing his wedding ring) on the day his son was born. The story is an obvious put-over, but no one cares. A shot at the guests shows nothing but complete absorption in this slice of southern mythology.
At least, except in the case of Edward's son, Will (Bill Crudup) who claims that he has heard these tales for so long he feels he doesn't know who his father really is. Hearing his side of the story, I suspect this might be partly true, however I think there is more troubling the young Will, and I'll get to that later.
Big Fish takes place as Edward Bloom is dying of cancer and Will, now estranged from his father, returns home in the hopes of finally getting to know him. Edward will tell the story of his life not only to Will, but also his fiancée Josephine (a patient, luminous Marion Cotillard). The story of Edward's life is the stuff of legend and in the way both Finney and Ewan McGregor (who also plays the younger Edward) spin it we feel nothing but the unbridled enthusiasm that makes people listen in the first place.
The story is played out in front of us in a surrealistic gallery that could have been grotesque if it wasn't so innocent and endearing. This is where director Tim Burton is truly in his moment. Burton cut his teeth on movies like Pee-Wee's Big Adventure and Edward Scissorhands; movies that delighted in the clash between an Americana-inspired, suburban-styled form of emotional virtue and a carnivorous mechanical menace gone the way of Terry Gilliam. Other than the one between real and fantasy, no such dichotomy exists in Big Fish if only because Burton has wisely allowed that feverish, out-of-the-bounds-of-reality imagination of his to invest itself in making an incredible story all the more incredible. When Edward grows up he leaves his small town (with a ten-foot giant in tow) and stumbles upon a cornucopia of adventure. Edward discovers an idyllic lost town set deep in the woods (Deliverance's "Banjo Man," Billy Redden, is also there, playing a tune that sounds more optimistic), joins the circus, battles a ferocious wolf, and tries to win over the woman he falls in love with by covering the landscape of her sorority house with daffodils in a scene that might have felt schmaltzy if it was less confident in the emotions it was trying to bring out.
What I've given you is certainly just a taste of the delights of this movie (don't let me forget the sequence when Edward sees his bride-to-be (Alison Lohman) at the circus and time literally stops). Given the build-up that Big Fish has for its moments of pure fantasy, it is a danger that the movie would suddenly pale when it turns to "real life." It is true that these scenes aren't as visually sumptuous, but Burton, and his troupe of actors, refuses to let the movie run out of gas. The role of Will could easily look like a selfish, whiny brat, but Crudup makes him a man for whom the elusive idea of "the truth" is his weapon against living in his father's enormous shadow (one of the subtle tragedies of the movie is that a personality like Edward's, no matter how well-meaning he is, is likely to eclipse those around him). Finney maintains the good humor necessary to believe that a man like Edward would be so liked and Jessica Lange is stoic as his older wife; a woman who, unlike her son, realizes that these "big fish" stories is who Edward is all about.
I would also hate to forget McGregor who attacks the role of the younger Edward with a ferocious enthusiasm. He steps through the movie with the kind of keen sense and wide-eyed wonderment of Odysseus as he made his way home or Huck Finn as he traveled the Mississippi.
What Big Fish eventually gives us in the end is up to the individual viewer. There will be some who see it as simply a bright and vibrant movie. There will be others who will gleam a message about embracing those who are dear to us while we have the chance. And for others there is the urgent warning that life is absolutely too precious to be taken seriously and perhaps stretching the truth from time to time can be the best favor we can give somebody.
It is a joy to see Burton back in a movie that so clearly deserves him after his talents were wasted on the remake of Planet of the Apes, a film that I admired, maybe even enjoyed, but would hesitate at saying I loved. I wouldn't say that about Big Fish. I loved this movie. I loved the way it unveils itself. I love the way it made me feel. I love the things it had to say about finding value and priorities in the world around us.
Most of all, I love a good story- and Big Fish is a damned good story. A