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'Big Fish' a masterpiece
Cult classic must-sees
By Will Farnham
Collegian Reviewer
Tim Burton's Big Fish received great critical
acclaim long before its public release, and with good reason.
The film is a spectacle in many senses. Candy for the eye and
for the passions.
Burton's directorial style comes into full
bloom with this feature, capturing attention with many subtle
special effects that run seamlessly into the tale. Obviously,
Burton had been itching to make a film of this nature, and Edward
Scissorhands, Sleepy Hollow and Nightmare Before Christmas are
all reflected in this visual tour de force. Even some of the
farcical visual comedy of Beetlejuice can be seen, particularly
in the story surrounding Danny DeVito as ringmaster Amos Calloway.
Big Fish is certainly more than a pretty fall
walk through a park, however. The film tells the story of Ed
Bloom (played in his old age by Albert Finney and as a young
man by Ewan McGregor), a man who has crafted his life, or at
least his rendition of it, to be nothing short of a legend.
Always the storyteller, Ed's fables always entertain everyone
around him. Everyone, that is, except his son Will (Billy Crudup).
As Ed lies on his deathbed, Will returns from three years of
silence toward his father in an attempt to discern what of his
father's personal legend is fact, and what is fantasy. As a
result, we are presented with retellings of myth that is Ed
Bloom's life. In the varied and sundry tales, Ed saves his small
hometown from a fifteen-foot giant named Karl (played by 7-foot-6-inch
Matthew McGrory), catches and then releases an uncatchable fish,
works in a circus for three years to learn the name of the girl
he knows he will marry someday, and helps out a struggling poet
from his own town. While the yarns are spun with a deft hand,
the only prominent common thread is that they have all happened
to Ed. The tall tales are often so disjoint that at times one
begins to wish for a more unified story, but a wonder as to
what will beset Ed next always overcomes such misgivings.
The overall tale is told as well as the individual
ones. The plot moves along at a steady, pleasant pace, and the
dialogue is thoughtful and witty. All the parts are well-played,
particularly McGregor's young Ed Bloom, who portrays old Bloom's
image of himself with an easygoing, casual air and a warm Southern
drawl. Helena Bonham Carter serves well as both the witch who
foretells a teenage Ed of the manner of his death, and Jenny,
a young woman for whom Ed is later a benefactor. The only major
glitches regarding the cast include Crudup's Will, who seems
just a bit too embittered by and skeptical of his fathers stories,
and whose eventual change of heart comes off as rather sudden.
In his defense, however, these issues may easily be as much
the fault of the Daniel Wallace novel on which the film is based
or of the screenplay as of Crudup's acting. Other minor character
issues include the fact that both DeVito and Steve Buscemi have
long since become parodies of themselves, so their otherwise
delightful appearances on screen evoke reactions of the "Heh
heh. Steve Buscemi. Excellent," variety, causing some undue
distraction.
There are few who will not enjoy Big Fish
on some level or another. The pure, unadulterated, modern, simple
fantasy is a breath of fresh air among the recent glut of sweeping
epics, over-the-top action movies and pedantic romantic comedies.
The storytelling warrants the audience's rapt attention, and
Burton's unique style commands it. It made me laugh, and made
most of the rest of the house, male and female alike, cry like
little children. While the ending reads off of the scale on
the Sentiment-O-Meter, it seems highly appropriate to the nature
of the rest of the film.
I'm giving Big Fish four stars of five, and
tossing back a tall, cold Newcastle for dear old Brett in his
absence. See it. You'll like it.
Tune in next week for some hot, hot cinema
action as my new cohort Cheryl Heitzman and I take in Along
Came Polly.
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the Collegian @ the Movies

Will Farnham
(out of five)
plus
(in honor of Brett Langsather)
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