|
By
NICK ZEGARAC
Edward Scissorhands (1990)
is the eclectic manifestation of its director, Tim
Burton; a quirky, often bizarre, redux of the
fairytale meets the tragic horror figure. There's
really nothing new about the premise. Director
James Whale did as much with Boris Karloff in
Frankenstein. But Scissorhands seems to best
balance that lightness and dark of the classic
fable by Grimm and translate its spookiness into
grand live-action entertainment. Like
Frankenstein, Edward (Johnny Depp) is the creation
of an inventor (the usually malevolent Vincent
Price, here more kindly, affecting and sympathetic
than Dr. Frankenstein ever was). Unfortunately for
Ed, his 'father' dies before he can finish
building him a pair of human hands. Burton seems
to build on the premise that if only Edward had
hands he'd be considered normal by 'human'
standards; an oddity in constructive logic since
Depp's makeup and hair clearly demarcate that he
is NOT of this world -- at least in the
conventional nine months of gestation period,
seven hours of intense labor.
The parallels between the Frankenstein monster and
Edward are numerable. Both live alone and afraid
of the human world in Gothic ruins that just
happen to overlook normalcy. In Edward's case,
normalcy is represented by the idyllic -- and
rather Hitlarian -- 50s pastel suburbia inhabited
by productive husbands and sexually repressed
housewives. The plot thickens as Avon maven Peg
(Dianne Wiest) discovers Edward and gives him a
makeover. The rest of the tale is really cross
between coming of age and being content with one's
self morality play, as Edward adapts his scissor
hands for salon tresses and topiary sculptures.
Instantly popular, Ed's dreams of a romance with
Peg's daughter, Kim (Winona Ryder) sour his
relationship with all concerned -- a bit of racial
prejudice creeping in from the periphery of this
too perfect world.
Burton is a master of spectacle. Most of his
worlds are a highly stylized, yet goofy, blend of
the demonic and the sacred that oddly enough
always works in service of his stories -- even
when plot falters. But Edward Scissorhands is a
departure from 'quirky for quirk's sake.' It's a
more evenly paced, more genuinely personal
critique of estrangement.
As an actor, Johnny Depp was in the process of
departing the small screen for movies. His mute
embodiment of an alien child caught at the crux of
human emotions is the epicenter of vulnerability,
even as his physical trappings evoke the classic
iconography of silent horror movies like Nosferatu
and The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. As a result,
Edward is more empathetic than pathetic, more
soulful than scary, yet oddly at odds with the
melodrama romantic tragedy that much of the latter
half of its story line is clearly paying homage
to.
Previously made available in an adequate transfer
from Fox -- this new anniversary edition is,
sadly, not an upgrade in video quality. Though
colors can be vibrant, like Ed's complexion, they
can also appear slightly pasty at times. Contrast
is just a tad lower than one would expect and fine
details are often not fully realized. The audio
comes in both 4.0 and 2-channel surround. Both are
strangely similar -- neither particularly engaging
nor enveloping. Separate commentary tracks by
Burton and Danny Elfman, an all too brief
featurette, concept art and some collectible
photos are all the extras we get. Hardly worth the
upgrade if one already owns this title. |
