ED WOOD
dir: Tim Burton
"Filmmaking is not about the tiny details. It's about the big picture." - Ed Wood
Brief Synopsis
Documenting the life of the notoriously awful filmmaker Ed Wood, who had big ambitions and a secret passion for wearing women's clothing.
Why It's Here
Anyone familiar with the films of director Tim Burton know that he is one of the very few people who is exceptionally skilled at creating an off-beat imaginative world, rich with detail while at the same time maintaining mainstream appeal. What many people do forget, however, is that Tim Burton is more than a visual artist, he can be a fantastic storyteller as well. Of course, it's easy to overlook these qualities of the director's talent as his last decade of films have largely focused on drowning the audience in atmosphere and stylization. Ed Wood, the directors second collaboration with Johnny Depp, keeps it simple, using it's visuals as a homage to the late director's own style rather than retracting into Burton's own mind. Later films inspired by outside sources such as Planet of the Apes, Sweeny Todd, and Alice in Wonderland were plagued with recognizable elements deep fried in Tim Burton's imagination, eventually coming out as products of his own, rather than homages to their roots. Ed Wood, and in similar ways, Mars Attacks, stand out as two of Burton's films that maintain a high level of gorgeous stylization, but are far removed from the surreal gothic gloss that embody the films of Tim Burton.
It's not to say that Burton's recent comfort zone represents a director on the wane. In today's cinema, an auteur is most often a talent who has found his or her own unique niche, polished it, and proceeded to tap it until it goes dry. Auteurs, which Tim Burton certain is, are directors who are capable of telling stories like no one else, but shy away from telling stories like everyone else. In the rare occasion that we find one of these specialized directors tackling new ground, it has equal opportunity to destroy their reputation as it does make them a household name, and in the end, fans are just anxious to see when they will return to their comforting roots.
Ed Wood represents that instance when the experiment pays off and we see a new facet of this filmmakers creative ability. Coming off the stylized successes of his Batman films and his more personal Edward Scissorhands, Burton was a far cry from his innocent debut with Pee-wee's Big Adventure, making 1994's Ed Wood a refreshing reminder that the director was capable of telling an honest-to-goodness human story without any grand gothic sets and costumes.
The man himself, Edward D. Wood Jr., world famous today as one of the worst film directors in history, was in his lifetime, a victim to the artistic cliche of living in poverty only to be discovered after death. Wood's naive enthusiasm towards the unforgiving machine that is Hollywood drove him to lose everything to gain his dream of directing. In another directors hands, the film could have been a Shakespearian tragedy wallowing in Wood's obsession, but Burton sees common interest between himself and a man who could only dream of ever being in Burton's position. A distinct, unquestioning love for cinema, and through that Burton channels a story that isn't bleak, but inspiring.
Depp's upbeat portrayal of Wood depicts him as a typically large dreamer who is wonderfully oblivious to the hurdles and limitations that Hollywood studios throw towards new filmmakers and aging stars, taking comfort in the safe and popular. This is something Wood can never understand, constantly worrying that he has missed his break, remarking on how Orson Welles was only 25 when he made Citizen Kane. For the level of influence Welles is on Wood, it's remarkable -- in a refreshing way -- that Wood is so engaged in the technical aspects of Kane's achievement, while the substance of the film and it's criticism on corporate power seems to escape Wood entirely. Wood sees the film as a representation of everything filmmaking is about, ignorant to the fact that Welles had to fight tooth and nail to get his version in cinemas. Even in a fictitious scene where Wood meets Welles in a bar, Welles' words of wisdom are nothing more than complaints about his own problems with studios, yet Wood sees this as just devotion to his vision, without registering Welles' resentment for his line of work.
When trying to pitch his films as vehicles for his childhood idol, Bela Lugosi, the responses range from "I thought he was dead" to how much of a deadbeat he is. Wood's response is always an enthusiastic rebuttal, stating that he can be rediscovered and is as great as ever. Wood's lack of understanding of the cynicism rampant in the industry's DNA makes him a character who restores the fairy-dust spectacle of the movie business to the audience after years of bad press for the lucrative industry.
Perhaps, even more than to the audience, the film is directed inwards to Tim Burton and others within the industry in itself. Edward Wood may have been the worst director of all time by some standards, but his blind enthusiasm for the process and his ecstatic delight in sharing the final product may remind those cynics who loathe Hollywood to reconsider their stance, and perhaps it is something that Burton needed to reconfirm to himself to continue making the bizarre worlds he has become famous for. Hell, Burton doesn't even try to stick to facts with Wood's story, adding segments of extreme satisfaction and success, particularly with Wood's notorious Plan 9 From Outer Space receiving a positive screening despite actually being considered his "greatest failure". Yet, it's not about the details of Wood's truly dour life, it's a film that celebrates accomplishments not on a financial or artistic level, but on a personal level, and Wood was a man who was unforgiving in the terrible quality of his films, but continued to churn them out with a consistent level of self-satisfaction.
It is strange for a bio-pic about a tragic failure to celebrate that persons inability to succeed, but it's perhaps that Wood retained his innocence and wonder without being soured like so many "auteurs" before and after, that audiences, and Tim Burton find him to be such a misguided inspiration and a reminder of what we are all here for to begin with.
It's not to say that Burton's recent comfort zone represents a director on the wane. In today's cinema, an auteur is most often a talent who has found his or her own unique niche, polished it, and proceeded to tap it until it goes dry. Auteurs, which Tim Burton certain is, are directors who are capable of telling stories like no one else, but shy away from telling stories like everyone else. In the rare occasion that we find one of these specialized directors tackling new ground, it has equal opportunity to destroy their reputation as it does make them a household name, and in the end, fans are just anxious to see when they will return to their comforting roots.
Ed Wood represents that instance when the experiment pays off and we see a new facet of this filmmakers creative ability. Coming off the stylized successes of his Batman films and his more personal Edward Scissorhands, Burton was a far cry from his innocent debut with Pee-wee's Big Adventure, making 1994's Ed Wood a refreshing reminder that the director was capable of telling an honest-to-goodness human story without any grand gothic sets and costumes.
The man himself, Edward D. Wood Jr., world famous today as one of the worst film directors in history, was in his lifetime, a victim to the artistic cliche of living in poverty only to be discovered after death. Wood's naive enthusiasm towards the unforgiving machine that is Hollywood drove him to lose everything to gain his dream of directing. In another directors hands, the film could have been a Shakespearian tragedy wallowing in Wood's obsession, but Burton sees common interest between himself and a man who could only dream of ever being in Burton's position. A distinct, unquestioning love for cinema, and through that Burton channels a story that isn't bleak, but inspiring.
Depp's upbeat portrayal of Wood depicts him as a typically large dreamer who is wonderfully oblivious to the hurdles and limitations that Hollywood studios throw towards new filmmakers and aging stars, taking comfort in the safe and popular. This is something Wood can never understand, constantly worrying that he has missed his break, remarking on how Orson Welles was only 25 when he made Citizen Kane. For the level of influence Welles is on Wood, it's remarkable -- in a refreshing way -- that Wood is so engaged in the technical aspects of Kane's achievement, while the substance of the film and it's criticism on corporate power seems to escape Wood entirely. Wood sees the film as a representation of everything filmmaking is about, ignorant to the fact that Welles had to fight tooth and nail to get his version in cinemas. Even in a fictitious scene where Wood meets Welles in a bar, Welles' words of wisdom are nothing more than complaints about his own problems with studios, yet Wood sees this as just devotion to his vision, without registering Welles' resentment for his line of work.
When trying to pitch his films as vehicles for his childhood idol, Bela Lugosi, the responses range from "I thought he was dead" to how much of a deadbeat he is. Wood's response is always an enthusiastic rebuttal, stating that he can be rediscovered and is as great as ever. Wood's lack of understanding of the cynicism rampant in the industry's DNA makes him a character who restores the fairy-dust spectacle of the movie business to the audience after years of bad press for the lucrative industry.
Perhaps, even more than to the audience, the film is directed inwards to Tim Burton and others within the industry in itself. Edward Wood may have been the worst director of all time by some standards, but his blind enthusiasm for the process and his ecstatic delight in sharing the final product may remind those cynics who loathe Hollywood to reconsider their stance, and perhaps it is something that Burton needed to reconfirm to himself to continue making the bizarre worlds he has become famous for. Hell, Burton doesn't even try to stick to facts with Wood's story, adding segments of extreme satisfaction and success, particularly with Wood's notorious Plan 9 From Outer Space receiving a positive screening despite actually being considered his "greatest failure". Yet, it's not about the details of Wood's truly dour life, it's a film that celebrates accomplishments not on a financial or artistic level, but on a personal level, and Wood was a man who was unforgiving in the terrible quality of his films, but continued to churn them out with a consistent level of self-satisfaction.
It is strange for a bio-pic about a tragic failure to celebrate that persons inability to succeed, but it's perhaps that Wood retained his innocence and wonder without being soured like so many "auteurs" before and after, that audiences, and Tim Burton find him to be such a misguided inspiration and a reminder of what we are all here for to begin with.