Tim Burton
Dumbo

Dispassionate and Convincing Praise of Burton and his Dumbo.

Where can we begin to talk about Burton's Dumbo? Unfortunately, in the case of our Tim, criticism, snobbery, and harsh reviews come out before the films themselves, and it's been like this for over a decade. Once the film is out, everything obviously gets multiplied and respected. I then see, and it saddens me, people who appreciate his recent films but feel the need to almost apologize or pre-emptively defend themselves with things like "it must be my fault", "must be me who’s wrong", because criticism/harsh reviews, often garnished with unnecessary irony and disdain, are automatic when it comes to Burton—a trend that no one can or wants to avoid, a cliché, a given fact, an unwritten rule, a way of giving oneself a tone and flaunting a non-existent intellectual superiority. This, at times, also leads to diminishing his old works, which are, after all, "for children", "for teenagers". "He always makes the same film", "he hasn't made original films since Beetlejuice", are the most widespread clichés only after "he only makes films with Johnny Depp" (all the latest ones are without, but no one seems to notice...) and "there are no longer any mid-seasons".

And so: "he's not what he used to be anymore", "we've lost him", "he's lost the magic a long time ago", "the good times are over", "not what he used to be", "overrated all along", "but hey, Beetlejuice (again) was cute", "I only save Ed Wood" (let's leave the others there...), "eh, but you can't compare it to the super-realistic super-cool Dark Knight by Nolan and Leadger's Joker?!1!"

Well, if still loving Burton today makes me a black sheep, I am proud to be one and I will not apologize for it.

Let me clarify that my attitude is not that of a fan boy, I am the first to acknowledge Alice as a film mishandled in almost every aspect, even though over time it has become almost the paradigm of artistic disaster and scapegoat for all the woes of cinephiles' personal lives. I was very disappointed by Big Eyes, despite the presence of the divine Amy Adams; I wouldn’t rewatch Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (in my case, especially due to a general idiosyncrasy with the story, I have never even seen the original with Wilder).

Moreover, watching Dumbo, I found moments, which were already present truth be told in the previous (also, obviously ignored/eschewed/mockingly remarked) Miss Peregrine, of the purest Burton, right from the first moments where his stylistic and authorial signature is already evident. Dumbo is yet another chapter in Burton's saga of freaks, circus artists, lonely and sad outcasts, fatherless orphans, incomplete or separated from their mother, in a hostile world but with a few and significant examples of humanity and solidarity.

Burton's Dumbo is indeed closer to Edward first monstrous then creator of wonderful gardening sculptures (already self-cited in the aforementioned Miss Peregrine), than to a classic Disney creature. Little sad clown forced to perform with just the desire to reunite with the mother and protector. Although the spirit of revenge after many mistreatments and derision remains that of the original, and in fact, Burton himself spoke of him as the only Disney character he felt close to, and who fascinated him in creating his own version.

In my view, Burton is still capable of creating magic and evoking emotion, compared to Alice, Dumbo is a film of true depth that fits perfectly within his filmography, without needing to propose uncomfortable comparisons with his old and untouchable masterpieces, yet without paling in comparison to them. And I already know that few will share the same opinion, but I am happy to have seen this latest work of his at the cinema and to still be able to perceive the beauty and authenticity in his work. Besides the love he still so greatly infuses in what he does and towards his little anti-heroes.

There are many differences with the original animated film (as was the case for Batman, the character is taken more as a pretext than anything else) and some affinities, but what moved me was the ability to show the most universal and timeless side of the story of the little elephant with giant ears, mocked and humiliated, taken away from his mother, who learns to fly, through his eyes. Speaking of which, I quote Burton:

"The emotions had to be expressed in a different way, through a simple pure form. In a chaotic world, the only way to express emotions is through the eyes. We worked hard on that."

I consider Burton, like Wes Anderson, to be one of the rare pure souls of cinema (as seen explicitly in the candor and emotion with which he received the David di Donatello a few days ago), and for this reason, the disillusionment and cynicism of many viewers (even more so critics and cinephiles, terrifying categories) will not reward him (he has already been marked as the worst Disney film ever for debut box office).

Beyond everything, from a technical standpoint, it's an impressive film, from the direction, to the cinematography, to the set design, and the realization of the little elephant in CGI is perfect and beautiful (this is another point on which no cinephile will ever agree, clearly) and on the big screen, the result cannot be anything but impressive and suggestive. The visual setup is indeed of great effect: the famous scene of the pink elephants from the original completely reinvented in an astonishing and mind-blowing way in the new context, and the long ending of --- SPOILER --- fire and escape from Dreamland fully satisfies both the spectacular and emotional need. The cast is perfect, filled with members of the large extended Burton family, primarily Keaton (who continues his comeback started with Birdman and hadn't worked with Tim since Batman) and De Vito, and his current recurring muse Eva Green, beautiful and a good French-speaking acrobat, besides an excellent Colin Farrell with just one arm.

But above all, this is a film with a soul, a rare and unexpected thing in the increasingly frequent Disney productions of remakes of old classics. A clear and strong authorial imprint is seen, an autonomy (as much as possible, as Burton says, there is never true freedom), an artistic credibility, whether the result is liked or not.

It is a real film, which distinguishes it markedly from Alice.

Dumbo is cinema.

In any case, Burton in the images, Elfman in the music, strike again my imagination and my emotional side, rediscovering the naivety of beauty.

Burton, more than just a director, is a way of being.