Big Fish

Big Fish (2003)

Boston Common Theater, Boston, MA

January 17, 2004

*** ½ / ****

There are movies that attempt to have deep meaning and those that are content to merely flash and dance across the screen with little or no deeper substance than what is on the surface. Big Fish is that rare movie that manages to both dazzle and tug at the heartstrings. It is not a perfect movie by any measure, but the last third is as close to perfect as I have seen in a very long time.

The story of Big Fish concerns the dying Edward and his son Will’s (Billy Crudup) attempt to finally learn “the truth” about his father before he passes. Through Edward’s endless recounting of his life we are shown the Edward that his son has heard about but never experienced first hand: a man whose charmed life was filled with stories more suited for a book of fairy tales than a resume. As Will’s journey to dig deeper into his father’s past gets more detailed, truth and fiction blur in ways Will could have never imagined. In the end, Will learns the age-old lesson that life truly is beautiful so long as one believes in and is thankful for his own gifts and fortunes.

Stylistically, Big Fish captures the tall tales of main character Edward Bloom (Albert Finny plays the elder version and Ewan MacGregor is the younger Edward in flashbacks) with all the zest of a campfire story or a barroom reminisce. Tim Burton shows us exactly what we want to see and paints that picture in ideal colors and shapes. Tall acquaintances become giants, entertainer friends become as famous and talented as Bob Hope, and courage, dedication, and love become the foundations of life that we sometimes forget they are. Burton presents images and sound as feelings rather than literal flashbacks and in essence, represents the truth that we hold in our hearts much better than could any realist. It is a masterful idea and when presented by Burton with precision execution makes Big Fish a joy to behold, a tale sure to stay with you long after the final credits.

The main trouble I have with Big Fish is the lack of a strong female character. Edward states early on that when you first see the woman you are going to marry, time stands still. The metaphor becomes reality, literally, and eventually Edward makes Sandra (Alison Lohman is the younger version, Jessica Lange the older) his wife. The problem is, even though Sandra is beautiful, we never learn what other than her beauty makes her so attractive to Edward. This casts a shadow of shallowness on Edward’s character that looms large the first half of the movie and never really disappears in the second.

Another potential problem that barely escapes is Big Fish’s use of the same coming to grips with one’s own mortality story that we have seen hundreds of times on television and other movies. Fortunately, this possible blunder becomes the film’s biggest achievement. By learning early on that Edward would die at the end of this movie, what separates this film from the pack is that we never realize until the end why we’ll be crying when Edward passes. Our tears fall not for Edward and the inevitability of death, but for Will and his realization that even the most meek life can carry volumes worth of wonderful stories and memories. It is a touching moment and definitely one of the most unconventionally emotional endings I have ever witnessed. Just thinking about it now makes me misty.

The big take away from Big Fish is, I think, that life truly is a matter of perspective, heroes can exist in many ways, and what we believe can often turn out to be the real truth no matter how many people poo-poo on our repetitive tales. It is a credit to Tim Burton that through one two-hour movie he can make us all feel like our own Big Fish, swimming amongst the current in whatever stream we may find ourselves. It’s a comforting thought, and one I will certainly never forget.