i don't have a nose: Review: Tim Burton’s ‘Corpse Bride’ (2005)

Tim Burton’s Corpse Bride (2005) is a film that needs no introduction. By this, I mean it adheres to the standard, repetitious criteria that has since become something of a safe retreat for the average Burton flick. This is as much a bad thing as it is good, as such recurrent motifs have not only become synonymous with Burton’s directorial work, but they have also come to mark a notable stagnation in the creativity of his output. Visually, Burton has seldom floundered, but contemporary cinema has become so accustomed to his darkly enchanting visual prowess, that a solid and compelling narrative is now sought after more so than ever – and sadly, his latest efforts just don’t cut it, with Dark Shadows (2012) arguably marking his absolute nadir. Fortunately, Corpse Bride’s release just about preceded this irrefutable slump. While it would be unfair to juxtapose it alongside its fellow stop-motion sibling The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993), it’s instantly evident that it’s not as strong an offering. In any case, it’s a sublime effort. In fact, there’s never been a (mostly) monochromatic flick more colourful.

Distributed by Warner Bros, Burton’s forgotten masterpiece follows Victor Van Dort (voiced by Johnny Depp, obviously), a Victorian groom-to-be, whose arranged marriage to Victoria Everglot (Emily Watson) sends his anxiety skyrocketing. Consequently, their ceremony, overseen by the uncompromising Pastor Galswells (Christopher Lee – again, obviously), is a shambles, forcing Victor to flee to the forest. There, he practises his vows, placing his ring upon what appears to be an uprooted branch. As it turns out, he in fact places the ring on the finger of a murdered bride – Emily (yes, you guessed it – Helena Bonham Carter) – who whisks him away to the Land of the Dead. Victor, horrified, tries desperately to return to the surface. In the meantime we learn more about Emily and her background, ultimately leading to a satisfying, if unsurprising, reveal at the film’s culmination.

Though the twists and turns, to some, might be perceived as somewhat predictable, the story is well-paced and its characters exceedingly well developed. As much as I’ve often voicelessly chided Burton for his repeated use of the same actors over and over, Depp and Bonham Carter shine resplendently in their roles, as does pretty much the rest of the cast. Danny Elfman’s (who knew?!) music, too, though not quite as catchy and memorable as in The Nightmare Before Christmas, is nonetheless charming in its own right, not to mention uplifting – something of an ironic culmination considering the film’s rather macabre themes.

One thing people forget about this film is that it’s actually a fairly important one in terms of Tim Burton’s filmic chronology, as it marks the first animated feature he directed. And, as a major presence in the Burton canon, it certainly does not disappoint. That said, it’s not completely flawless, though its faults are, for the most part, entirely subjective. Emily’s maggot – who lives in her eye – is a highly unoriginal parody of Peter Lorre, and an unfunny one at that; he simply comes across as annoying. Let’s face it, the Looney Tunes were making that joke way back in the ‘40s. Furthermore, Emily’s backstory isn’t given much screen time despite a fun-but-forgettable music number, which is a shame particularly since it demotes her from potentially maintaining the film’s most interesting character.

Ultimately, however, the pros far outweigh the cons. The intricate detail in the models and quirky character designs is worthy enough of at least a three-star rating. Parenthetically, it’s interesting to note that this film does not utilise the same replacement animation technique as The Nightmare Before Christmas, but instead sees the use of malleable rubber puppets – an easier but no less effective alternative. In fact, the animation is so slick and smooth that it poses a charmingly subdued, nonconformist and eccentric opposition to the CG sea its decade-old release found itself to be unforgivingly engulfed by. Some might argue that it’s a little ‘Burton-by-the-numbers’, but creativity abounds, especially when it comes to the visuals. The story is solid, if a little thin, and its characters are deeply engrossing. Indeed, the 2005 release of Tim Burton’s Corpse Bride marked a tremendous feat which saw traditional techniques rise from the dead, effectively and in style.