Review: Big Fish

Rated PG-13 | 125 mins

So it’s called Big Fish and it’s about a guy named Ed Bloom (Ewan McGregor and Albert Finney), who tells wild stories about his life to just about everyone he’s ever come in contact with. No one believes that the tales he claims to be true are entirely real, and that he really experienced them throughout the many years he’s lived on earth, but rather choose to recognize him as a dandy storyteller. And while this may seem to be just fine, a problem arises as a result of it. Not one person knows the real Ed, for his whole life seems to just be one giant story. It’s impossible for anyone to separate the fact from the fiction, and understand the true man. This becomes especially tormenting for his son, Will, after he’s grown up. So, we take a trip to the point in time in which Ed is about to die, and Will has one last chance to learn the truth about his father. Are Ed’s tales actually real accounts of the events that have occurred in his lifetime, or just mere pieces of entertainment for his friends and family to be temporarily amused by?

Now, with an average director, there’s probably some way that Big Fish could’ve been told in a fairly “regular” fashion, but this is a Tim Burton movie. Tim Burton doesn’t do “regular.” In this picture, the gifted oddball shows us everything from gigantic people to undiscovered towns comprised of only peaceful folk to, well, big fishes, and there and back again. In fact, the oddness of this film, the sheer beauty of watching the wild images being projected onto a big screen, is fascinating. The audience won’t even be able to take most of it. How the hell are we supposed to react to such craziness? The bewildering, but joyous shock that Big Fish provokes is indescribable. This is a colorful and outlandish, but sympathetically down-to-earth film, undeniably one to cherish for years to come. It may be filled with obvious flaws, and is, by no means, a great movie, but I couldn’t care any less. For a film to be able to stand out amongst all the other films of its kind, and keep the audience captive, it has to be different. Big Fish invents an entirely new genre, and because of this, it certainly doesn’t even need to worry about being different. If that doesn’t distinguish a trip worth taking, I don’t know what does.

I’m quite unsure how mainstream moviegoers will respond to Big Fish, even though I’m definitely not opposed to them seeing it. A better question is: what does Burton want viewers to get out of his film? I suppose I’m a bit of a hypocrite, since I don’t even really know myself, and all I’ve done in this review is praised it. I enjoyed Big Fish simply because of the wondrous awe I was struck with when viewing it. And even though I hope this is enough to keep others satisfied, it, sadly, may not be.