Quintessential Me

Can The Living Marry The Dead?

Tim Burton's latest piece, The Corpse Bride, is at once masterful. It is at once both beautiful and repulsive. Fans of Burton will want to see the film, and its music is enchantingly breath-taking. Danny Elfman always seems to meet the opportunities that Burton provides him. Every brushstroke seems placed perfectly until almost the very end.

It is at that very end when the film seems to resemble a common occurrence: A new shirt is bought and all is well until a loose thread is seen. Despite the beauty, one cannot help but to be continually drawn to the thread. Years of experience teach that pulling the thread is the last thing to do, but the taint of the thread seems strong that in the end, the thread is pulled in the vain hope that the thread will break instead of unraveling.

It always unravels. And so does The Corpse Bride. Its weak end seems to somehow strike a discordant note and leave the viewer wondering how the right effect could have been achieved.

That is not to say that fans of either Elfman or Burton will not enjoy the film; they will, but they will not leave the theater professing a newfound Burton favorite. It is difficult to say whether Elfman's fans will find a new favorite as the movie's weaknesses obscure the prowess the composer displays.

posted by mokru @ 11:15 PM