Selling Out:
Alice in Wonderland
By Tom Macy
March 11, 2010
BoxOfficeProphets.com

Every single thing in this picture creeps me out.

If I had a time machine, I would only use it for arbitrary things. After all, if there's anything the movies have taught us, it's that messing with major events from the past is on par with giving machines artificial intelligence. So I wouldn't use it to trip up Dave Roberts trying to steal second in the ninth inning of Game 4 of the 2004 ALCS – as tempting as that would be, the Yankees deserved to lose that series as much as I deserved to suffer some humility as a Yankee fan (suck it, Boston). But once little task I might deem inconsequential, yet still significant enough, is to go back to this past Saturday afternoon before I bought my ticket to Alice and Wonderland and tell myself: "Don't waste your time."

Am I surprised that Alice in Wonderland was a completely unimaginative, boring and predictable snooze? No, I saw what Tim Burton did to Willy Wonka and Sweeney Todd. But here, his laziness seemed to reach unprecedented depths. I would have thought if Burton himself refused to deviate from his three decade old aesthetic that has now become a tired shtick, at least a studio executive, writer, editor, anyone might come along and say "don't you think audiences are going to realize you're just turning the story into Lord of the Rings and the character of Alice into Neo?"

Well in light of it having the sixth biggest opening of all-time, it turns out it doesn't matter. I guess we know why I'm not in charge of how anyone spends their money in Hollywood. But that doesn't mean it's a good movie. As we have learned time and time again, financial success does not a good movie make. Even the Academy can figure that one out. Ba-zing!

But for me the most annoying thing about Alice in Wonderland did not occur in the theatre. Although the Mad Hatter's random hip hop dance at the end and the reducing of the Jabberwocky to just another CGI dragon were strong contenders. No, the most egregious offense was made several years before when I first heard that Tim Burton would be taking the film on. Great, I thought, Johnny Depp will be the Mad Hatter and Helena Bottom Carter will be the Queen of Hearts. This prediction was corroborated a few weeks later when the cast list was posted on IMDb. What was so frustrating about this was that it was practically déjà vu from when I heard Burton was directing Sweeney Todd. Back then my immediate response was, great, Johnny Depp will be Sweeney and Helena Bonham Carter will be the Queen of Hearts. And if I could use my time machine to travel in the future, I could give you a third example when I find out that Wizard of Oz is being remade by Warner Bros – I believe they hold the rights now – and that Burton - who has an established shameless remake relationship with them in Willy Wonka - was directing. Who wants to finish this sentence? Depp as the Scarecrow. Carter as the Wicked Witch. CGI flying monkeys. Roll credits.

Think I'm joking? I am. But I wouldn't bet against it. The choices Tim Burton has made this past decade have made one thing very clear. He has no intention of challenging himself creatively ever again. Every movie directed by Tim Burton will have the same actors – the aforementioned twosome, the same look - some call it gothic, I call it black twisty things and big hair (have you noticed that everyone in Tim Burton movies has Tim Burton hair?), and the same sound – has Danny Elfman written any new music in the last 20 years? - as every other Tim Burton movie ever made.

Look, I'm all for auteurs in movie making. I find great pleasure in the recognizing a particular filmmaker's style. I'm always excited to see the world through the warped lens of the Cohen brothers, or have a story told to me in the quietly deliberate tone of a Clint Eastwood film. And I can hardly contain myself waiting to see what horrifying gauntlet the female lead of the latest Lars Von Trier film is going to be put through. These filmmakers have a distinguishable style and approach. But that doesn't mean that every film is made in the same way. The ideas a director brings to a project should depend on the needs of the story and out of that combination of director and script, a specific look and tone is created and developed to suit the film. But with Burton, the look and tone of the film is never determined by the story. Because every one of his movies all look freaking the same! It's like he has only one idea and keeps selling that one idea over and over. There's a name for that, and it's not a style, it's brand. And in today's movie going climate, the Tim Burton brand is a popular one.

Look, if he can get away with selling the same movie to audiences over and over, more power to him. But to me it's completely uninteresting. Commercial films aren't high art, but it still takes an artist to make them and Burton is no doubt an extremely talented one. Notice I've only been bitching about the films he made in the last ten years. His earlier films like Beetlejuice and Edward Scissorhands are triumphs in which the bizarre subject matter and Burton's trademark vision are a perfect marriage. But it seems that once that vision was translated into financial success in Batman, for which Burton was a natural choice - a dark character all dressed in black that hangs out in shadows – a box began to form around what Burton was allowed to do and the commodity that was Burton's commercial viability somehow trapped him. Once his style was embraced by the greater public, in some circles fervently so – The Nightmare Before Christmas is to Hot Topic what Harry Potter is to Scholastic Publishing - boundaries were put in place that Burton was ultimately unable to step outside of.

So maybe it's not by choice. Maybe Tim Burton is dying to direct a romantic comedy starring Taylor Lautner and Miley Cryrus (now I'm picturing them with crazy Tim Burton hair) and no studios are willing to let him go there. But since several of his recent films have been wild box office success – due in no small part to the presence of Johnny Depp, perhaps not coincidentally another intriguing talent whose choices have been rather uninspiring since hitting it big – you'd think Burton would be able to take some more chances. And since he hasn't, I can only deduce that money, not art, is what Burton cares about these days. Maybe that isn't anything unusual in Hollywood. But it's sad that Tim Burton is now another case of someone who has the money to do anything and chooses to just make more money. In my eyes, the Tim Burton of today is no better than Michael Bay.