Big Eyes dramatizes the life of Margaret Keane, whose paintings of big-eyed children became a sensation in the popular art world back in the late 50s and early 60s. Her paintings achieved this level of fame without her name attached to it, however, as her husband Walter took credit for the paintings. The film begins with Margaret (Amy Adams) leaving her first husband and moving to San Francisco. She soon meets Walter (Christoph Waltz), a struggling artist who can’t find a gallery for his own work. But when Margaret’s waif paintings catch the public imagination, he claims them as his own, forcing Margaret to paint in secret to keep up the illusion.
This is fascinating subject matter, but there isn’t much more to Tim Burton’s film than a recounting of the events. The filmmaker, who for years has received criticism for overusing his signature aesthetics, has crafted a film that goes too far in the opposite direction. The few tantalizing hints of Burton’s ability to let strangeness intrude into the real world suggest something deeper behind the prestige façade. But in asking to be taken so seriously, the film ends up staying on the surface of this fascinating narrative.
The film really struggles with figuring out a way to work with its mostly passive main character. This is where Burton’s talents would certainly have come in handy, perhaps externalizing her inner life through strange fantasy sequences. There is, in fact, one scene in the film that has the aesthetics of her paintings entering her daily existence, but the film leaves that as the sole suggestion of Margaret’s psyche. Its approach to making this narrative work is to divert attention away from the subject. It instead hands over good chunks of the film to Walter and the business he builds around Margaret’s paintings.
It’s kind of an odd approach. The film doesn’t really have the material to go too deep into Walter’s mindset. He is played mainly as a cartoon villain, with a broad, somewhat miscalculated performance from the usually good Christoph Waltz. There’s a story to tell here, but it belongs to a different movie. This is meant to be Margaret’s story, but the film becomes more enamored with the huckster’s tale. In a strange case of art imitating life, the film shuts Margaret out of the spotlight, and focuses almost solely on the hollow smile of Walter Keane.
Given that, there are still pleasures to be had in this film. Amy Adams never allows a passive character get in the way of a good performance. There are nuances in her acting that go well beyond what the film is ultimately willing to provide. And though the film is sorely missing some real flourishes, it is pretty good looking from scene to scene. The film revels in its period setting, aping the bright Technicolor style that defined the look of much of the media from that era.
Big Eyes does seem to be a bid for respectability. But respectability in the Hollywood sense can mean many things. And here it appears to mean making a bland biopic that does little more than play by prestige filmmaking rules. It holds back on the strangeness, and in so doing, holds back on the individuality. It is altogether watchable in the same way that most boring prestige pictures are. But it is far cry from the best that Burton has given us so far.
My Rating:
