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Masterful 'Big Fish' inspires debate on meaning of reality


It is always a good time of year when Tim Burton has a movie out. His career isn't spotless, but each of his movies has a distinct visual mark. (Is anyone able to plausibly explain the ending of Planet of the Apes or all of Mars Attacks?)

Burton's latest film, a surprisingly whimsical affair called Big Fish, is no different.

Based upon the novel by Daniel Wallace, Big Fish is the story of the life of Edward Bloom. Bloom is the kind of man who loves telling tall tales, all of which are about him and the quirky people and situations he's encountered throughout his life. Bloom is dying, and his estranged son Will has come back home to Alabama with his wife Josephine. Will has been hearing the same tall tales about his father his whole life, and wants to take this last chance to learn the truth about his father. Of course, his father wants only to keep telling his stories.

And what stories they are, including catching a massive fish with a wedding ring, crash-landing in Korea while a two-headed woman sings and seeing his own death in the glass eye of a witch. Edward Bloom may not have led a grand life filled with adventures, but he has an imagination more vivid than most. Burton, one of the best visual filmmakers in existence, excels as he revels in showing the sheer goofiness that Bloom describes. It is not his darkest work, but you can imagine that Burton was chuckling his way through making the film.

But there is something in Big Fish that will strike any moviegoer familiar with the films of Burton as extremely odd. The visuals aren't all you'll walk away remembering from in this movie. The actors' performances are rich and varied. In most Burton films, I can remember the images or maybe one performance (Jack Nicholson in Batman or Michael Keaton in Beetlejuice, for example), but the performances never completely bowl me over. Consider it a pleasant surprise that with Big Fish, all the actors have come to work.

Ewan McGregor, as the younger Bloom, is the true anchor of the movie and the star of most of the tall tales. He seems to have an undying optimism that isn't distracted by any of the many roadblocks he encounters. McGregor is the perfect actor for his role. The way he's headed, with each of his quirky yet thoroughly enjoyable roles, McGregor is on his way to becoming another Nicolas Cage or Jude Law. You're not sure what he'll do next: Whether he stars in a big blockbuster, appears in a small independent film or fills a supporting role, you know the result will be worth the six bucks.

Albert Finney, another fine actor who isn't from the American South, portrays the present-day Bloom. Rarely can actors appear rakish yet standoffish, even more so while lying in a bed. Finney, however, is up to the task. He's able to portray both a likable old coot and a blowhard whose son can't stand him.

For that matter, Billy Crudup is thoroughly believable as a man who seems slightly envious of and disillusioned about a man who was less of a father than a drifter. Each of these characters could have swerved into melodrama and caricature, but Finney and Crudup are able to play them closer to reality.

The best tall tale comes from Bloom's pursuance of his future wife, Sandra. As a young woman, she's Alison Lohman, the luminous young star of Matchstick Men. Although she has a smaller role in this film, Lohman is just as memorable as a woman who finds herself more and more attracted to a man with whom she has spoken once or twice.

The scene where we and Bloom first see Sandra (time stops at a circus) contains special effects as smooth as anything you'll see in an action film. In the present day, she is played by Jessica Lange. Lange has been absent from Hollywood for too long, so seeing her here as a dedicated wife who will be quite shattered by her husband's death is a double pleasure. Again, she also plays a small part, but makes an indelible impression.

In the supporting roles, we have Steve Buscemi as a poet-turned-bank robber, Danny DeVito as a circus ringleader with a dark secret, Marion Cotillard as Will's wife, Robert Guillaume as the family doctor, Loudon Wainwright as the mayor of a very strange town called Spectre and Burton's girlfriend, Helena Bonham Carter, as both the witch and a young woman with whom Bloom had an affair. All of them have little to do (some more than others, but still not much) but every one of them gives 100 percent.

Big Fish is a movie that, while beautiful and masterful, is mighty ambiguous. There will be some debate as to what the town of Spectre is and what it means. Also, the end of the film will inspire some speculation about the meaning of the reality or lack thereof. Some will say it's a reversal of what the story has been about, and some may bristle, but I like it. Go ahead. Raise some questions.

Any movie that can inspire a little bit of talk and a little bit of debate is worthy of praise, no matter the subject matter. Big Fish, one of the best films of the year and one of Burton's finest, is one such movie. Check it out.

Josh Spiegel is an entertainment reporter for the Web Devil. Reach him at joshua.spiegel@asu.edu.


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