Adams is the apple of
BIG EYES Directed by Tim Burton. Starring Amy Adams, Christoph Waltz, Krysten Ritter, Danny Huston, Terence Stamp, Jason Schwartzman, Jon Polito. 12A cert, general release, 105 min During the 1950s and 1960s, the work of outsider artist “Keane” became internationally known and won admiring glances from Andy Warhol and celebrity subjects Joan Crawford and Natalie Wood.
The paintings (and subsequent merchandise) were sold under the name Walter Keane, but were, in fact, produced by his wife, Margaret.
This swindle and its subse- You have to feel some sympathy for the folk behind the third film in this faltering family franchise. The death of Mickey Rooney and Robin Williams, regular cast members, during post-production ensured that a certain melancholy would hang over Secret of the Tomb. On the other hand, the filmmakers now have a handy excuse for the mirthless silence set to spread through the world’s cinemas.
This really is a hopeless project that makes little of the original film’s few good ideas and adds no new ones worth quent legal fallout form the basis of Big Eyes, the new film from director Tim Burton.
Margaret Keane, the artist whose kitschy saucer-eyed waifs have been creeping people out for decades, seems like an obvious biopic choice for Burton.
Her most famous subjects could easily populate the same spooky orphanage as creations from Edward Gorey’s non-Victoriana Victoriana, creations that have traditionally cast a long, influential shadow across Burton’s gothic oeuvre.
Surprisingly, however, Big Eyes shares hardly any DNA with Ed Wood, Burton’s last stab at biography (and arguably his greatest film) enduring. As all US films must be about fathers and their sons, Ben Stiller’s harassed museum guard is now juggling the nocturnal management of possessed artefacts with daytime supervision of a mildly rebellious teenage son. When the ancient tablet that makes the exhibits live goes on the blink, they all must travel to the British Museum for some sort of recharge. Cue the Queen’s Life Guards. Cue Tower Bridge. Cue Trafalgar Square. Cue London Calling by the Clash. Hang on. Can Joe Strummer