Large Marge Sent Me (OLL, Part Two)

Oh, Tim Burton.

I find myself sighing and saying that a lot: "Oh, Tim Burton." And there's only been one time when that sigh was not loaded with complete and utter admiration and respect.

Oh, Tim Burton. I forgive you for "Planet of the Apes," and I certainly hope you can forgive me for doubting you and Johnny Depp and "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory." I should have known better.

I remember making a poor first impression on my ex-boyfriend's mother. I didn't know how to cook and expressed no desire to learn. I didn't go to church. I hated her husband and sassed her son. The nail in the coffin? She overheard me urging my then-boyfriend to take me to see "Sleepy Hollow" again. Yes, again. "Isn't that the movie where people get their heads chopped off?" she asked.

"Oh, yeah!" To my credit, I tried to curb my enthusiasm about the beheading. "I mean, it's a Tim Burton movie. Or whatever." I enjoyed the Tim Burton texture--the sepia, black-and-white colors with a splash of color (blood, in this case)--more than the carnage.

Yes, that's what I call it--the Tim Burton texture. I told Stephanie that I was having a hard time articulating what exactly it is I love about your sensibility. Why am I so thrilled when I see the trailers for movies like "Corpse Bride" and "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory"? I know I've appreciated that texture for as long as I can remember. I didn't even know he directed "Pee-Wee's Big Adventure" and "Beetlejuice." I memorized those movies. (No, seriously. I noticed what the Warner Brothers company did to "Beetlejuice," and I do not appreciate.)

When I see your name attached to a project, Tim Burton, I know I can expect a creepy, Gothic atmosphere--lightening from a thunderstorm illuminating the outline of a craggy castle; rough etches from gravestones; skulls. The characters will have interesting back stories which explain their ticks--like Willy Wonka and Ichabod Crane. Other characters will simply delight in being off and odd--like Beetlejuice.

I know I'll feel scared for at least one full minute during the film. I still have nightmares about Large Marge's disfigured face. So scary--but so funny. You, Tim Burton, get it. Why should a movie remain locked in one genre? Why shouldn't viewers root for the ghost with the most? I memorized those movies because they could be beautiful and well-wrought without taking themselves too seriously.

And I should have known that when I first saw those previews for "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory." The Roald Dahl novel provided all the right ingredients for the Tim Burton texture; candy and danger are right up your alley. And you should see me now, urging people to tuck away the Gene Wilder version--at least for a moment--and trust you.

You know what you're doing, Tim Burton.

"...it looked like this!"
Sam