Edward Scissorhands

The recent release of "Dark Shadows" has led to yet more hand wringing over the State of Tim Burton and Johnny Depp.  The A.V. Club: "what's gone missing in recent years...is the spiky wit and purposefulness that used to accompany that unmistakable visual style."  The New Yorker: "a long, expensive joke in search of a purpose."  The Wall Street Journal: "familiar and fatigued."

Depp, who starred in the film--his eighth collaboration with Burton--wasn't spared either.  The New Republic: "Depp is a puppet made of blood, starch, and the actor's vanity."  The Globe and Mail: "He's a persona now, no longer an actor."

The general consensus seems to be that Burton and Depp have hit a creative rut.  Their movies are now largely an excuse for Burton to have fun with the production designers and Depp to have fun with costumes.

But it's worth returning to the duo's first collaboration, "Edward Scissorhands."  Did these two really lose their creative mojo?  Or has the novelty just worn off?

The film tells the story of the titular character, a man created by an inventor who died before being able to give him real hands.  Ed gets taken to a satirically bland version of suburbia.

Once you get past the high concept, not much happens in the film.  Burton gets as much comic mileage as he can out of those hands: Edward landscapes, grooms dogs, and give haircuts.  Meanwhile, Edward struggles to fit in, and there's a perfunctory love story.  You keep waiting for some sort of pointed message, and it never really comes.  The film serves as a mild request for tolerance and a gentle dig at the conformity of the suburbs, old and easy marks to land.

Depp occasionally does some nice acting with his eyes and a shuffling gait.  But mostly he just stands, inert, and lets his costume--basically Robert Smith in leather--do the work for him.

"Edward Scissorhands" is an enjoyable, lightweight fairy tale.  It's largely an excuse for Burton to have fun with the production designers and Depp to have fun with costumes.

Toss Offs

Some people like their music structured and formal.  Others prefer their tunes to be more loose and spontaneous.  Me, I prefer the latter.  I take the Stones over the Beatles.  I love The Who's 15-minute version of "My Generation" on "Live at Leeds."

I particularly like what I call "toss offs."  A toss off is when a singer spouts out a random line that isn't part of a versus, bridge, or chorus.  It might not always be spontaneous, but it feels that way, as though the singer was feeling the groove and just let out a yell.  Here are songs with some of my favorite toss offs:

The Rolling Stones, "Jumpin' Jack Flash" Right before the riff kicks in, Mick Jagger yells "Watch it!"  I don't know why this is so cool.  It just is.

Beck, "Loser" This song is a master class in toss offs, but I'm thinking specifically of the immortal "Get crazy with the Cheese Whiz!"  Beck started out playing cafes in LA.  He had to do something to get the audience's attention, so he started coming up with surrealist, attention-getting songs like "Nitemare Hippy Girl" and "Asshole."  He put that talent to great use on "Loser."


Ryan Adams, "Halloween Head" Right before the guitar solo, Adams yells "Guitar solo!"  Somehow it elevates this song and gives it just the right goofy vibe.


The Jimi Hendrix Experience, "Fire" "Move over, Rover.  And let Jimi take over."  Supposedly Jimi was staying at the home of the mother of his bass player, Noel Redding.  He wanted to warm himself by the fire, but  there was a Great Dane in the way.  No, really.

Isaac Hayes, "Theme from Shaft" I don't know if this really counts, since so many of the lyrics in "Shaft" feel tossed off.  But I absolutely love the "He's a bad motha..." routine.

C'mon, this has to count.  He's talkin' 'bout Shaft!


Queen, "Fat Bottomed Girls" Towards the end, Freddy Mercury yells, "Get on your bikes and ride!"  What a dumb, fun song.

Everything Must Go

"Everything Must Go" is based on a Raymond Carver short story, but it's really based on every hackneyed indie film about redemption.  Alcoholic Nick Halsey (Will Ferrell) loses his job and his wife on the same day.  His soon-to-be-ex leaves their house and locks him out, dumping all his stuff on the lawn.  With no place to go, Nick starts living on the lawn.  He's befriended by Kenny, a boy who is, naturally, chubby and sad looking, and Samantha, a neighbor who is, naturally, empathetic and pretty.

Will Nick turn to the bottle and eventually hit rock bottom?  Yes!  Will he slowly form a bond with Kenny and impart life-long lessons to him?  Yes!  Will Nick learn that all of the material possessions dumped on the lawn really aren't that important?  Spoiler alert: Yes!

Ferrell turns off his eccentricities for the part, but he doesn't turn anything else on.  He's the world's most boring tortured alcoholic.  It's hard to blame him, though, given the bland script that methodically hits its marks.  "Guess I'll be seein' you around," Kenny says to Nick near the end of the film.  I think I've heard that line somewhere before...