Tim Burton's \Big Fish"" gained a wide release just a week or so after the holidays wrapped up, and I can't say the timing could be much better. ""Fish"" is a film about that one elder family member that everyone seems to have; it's about the storyteller and those who have gotten tired of hearing the stories.
Using an increasingly popular ""rollout"" release, which typically starts in New York and Los Angeles before slowly sweeping to other markets, Burton's latest film managed to debut in time to be a dark horse for a Best Picture Oscar nomination. In addition to grabbing four Golden Globe nominations, ""Big Fish"" avoided going head-to-head with the initial box-office clout of ""Return of the King,"" and nearly overtook ""King"" in the first week of wide release.
Burton's tall tale is about deathly-ill Edward Bloom and his son, William. The two haven't spoken since Will's wedding, when Edward's stories took center stage during the reception. Now that Edward is dying, William's mother begs him to come home and be with his father. Will agrees and, as he sits with Edward, asks for the truth behind those stories his father constantly told and retold.
Throughout, the film jumps between showing Edward's stories and then back to the reality of his waning health. Young Edward goes through numerous adventures involving a witch, a secret town named Spectre, a circus, a robbery, a military mission where he meets a set of dancing, conjoined Asian twins and, of course, a big fish.
The stories are a wonderful avenue to reach Burton's eccentric visual style. And, surprisingly, the typically dark Burton doesn't kill the uplifting tone that ""Fish"" inherently has. Instead, he lightens up and makes Edward Bloom's various fantasies very earnest and endearing. The love story between young Edward and his future wife Sandra is one of the most touching of 2003. Burton, whose ""Planet of the Apes"" was not only an insult to the source material but an insult to good filmmaking, seems to have learned here that a film featuring ""the imagination of Tim Burton"" still needs heartfelt performances at its center. It's a lesson that many filmmakers (George Lucas and the Wachowski brothers come to mind) have yet to learn.
The cast of ""Big Fish"" also fit each of their roles perfectly. Ewan McGregor plays the young Edward Bloom while Albert Finney plays him in the present. The resemblance (which I'm sure was played up through the use of makeup) is uncanny, only surpassed by the amazingly matched Alison Lohman and Jessica Lange. Each playing different eras of wife and mother Sandra Bloom, these two actresses were especially integral to the success of their role. Despite the part they share being quite limited, Lohman and Lange give Sandra Bloom a weight that
does not easily fade from the mind. Steve Buscemi and Danny DeVito each step into off-beat characters (surprise) that play to their various talents. Helena Bonham Carter is absolutely astounding, playing the fabled witch of Edward's childhood as well as the real woman who nearly stole Edward away.
In spite of all these fantastic performances, Billy Crudup as the skeptical William Bloom is masterful. Crudup may keep emotion a bit under the radar, but it's still there. There was never a question about the character and his feelings about his father. The exasperation, the cynicism, the doubt and most importantly, his yearning to actually get to know his father all played out in the tired eyes and wry smiles of Crudup.
Also impressive is how adept Burton is as the film goes on, as fiction blurs into fact. The maturity and complexity with which Burton delves into these murky waters is admirable, and ""Fish"" is certainly better for it.
Several have criticized the flick, but oddly enough these criticisms have not found any type of common mark. From those saying Crudup plays William too judgementally to those accusing Burton of focusing on set pieces rather than characters, the only consensus is that the film is, overall, a worthwhile experience. While I'm not particularly surprised by that response (there's no accounting for taste, even amongst critics), I was particularly struck by the small handful that found the emotional climax sappy or unrealistic. I'll abstain from spoiling that moment, but needless to say, I found it nothing less than touching.
Perhaps I enjoy the movie even more because I was constantly reminded of my own father and myself. It's not uncommon to find him telling a story to an interested audience and catch myself rolling my eyes, because I already know this one by heart. And I certainly don't think for a second that this connection is something all that unique. In fact, I've seen my father and grandfather have the exact same exchange. It's a somewhat universal relationship amongst men-after all, the thing we most enjoy at times is talking exaggeratedly about ourselves.
