The Movies That Shaped Me: Edward Scissorhands

All the movies I’ve seen, good or bad, have been engraved into who I am. Any cinephile can speak to this. They’re transparent tattoos that are a roadmap of my fandom and personality. As I get older and follow the endless yellow celluloid road, more and more are added. Why not start an ode to these lovelies?

A movie, especially one dipped in a fairy tale coating, can sweep you up in an emotional flurry. It swirls sensations of sweetness and innocence but also takes you along on a landscape of feelings. When the fluffy facade falls, when you get to the inevitable end, a cascade of reality comes through.

It can be cold. It can be a surge of realism that’s not quite ready to be accepted, but… the journey, the ebb and flow of realism and myth, that’s where the magic happens.

While Beetlejuice may be his movie that really inspired me the most as a fan (and I’ll boast always) Tim Burton’s Edward Scissorhands was a beautiful reminder of how gothic macabre can be married with the extraordinary lightness of human potential. For all of its beauty (and joyous humor), this is a love story. The heart, and its innate portrayal of human connection is where this picture soars.

At the start we are shown Vincent Price, a creator and scientist who has built a “human” being: Edward (Johnny Depp) who has blades for hands. Before he can finish his newest addition, he passes away. Thus, leaving Edward alone in his isolated mansion that overlooks a colorful suburbia that is brimming with life, but locked in conformity.

In what I believe to be a masterful sweep, Burton delivers a romance that settles bone deep. Or rather, blade. This is a film that takes me through an assembly of emotions every time I see it, from elation, hilarity, on to sadness.

And so our tale begins

Written by Tim Burton and Caroline Thompson, this is a delicate balance of the gothic elements we’ve come to associate with Burton and yet it feels like a child of Frankenstein and Hans Christian Andersen.

When Peg (Dianne Wiest) decides to try something new and head up the hill for her makeup sales, she’s surprised to find Edward. Despite the drawl interior and obvious oddities afoot, she takes him back home with her.

Her family, husband Alan Arkin and children Kim (Winona Ryder) and son Kevin (Robert Oliveri) seem strangely welcoming, but still apprehensive. Once she makes it clear he’s a guest, her household and the town, begin to accept him as their own.

But do they?

Though his skills cutting hair and making topiaries have granted him excited onlookers, (any change in this town of monotony and prejudice becomes a shiny distraction, complete with the generous helping of gossip) it is brought with a tenuous curiousity that, with the exception of a mere few, is more telling of the inhabitant’s narcissicm than it speaks of true generosity.

Many of the others in town become fascinated with him, but that distrust is still ingrained and the thin bridge that’s been built is about to come down.

One person in particular that catches Edward’s eye, and heart, is Kim. She’s hesistant at first, often casting him aside as her boyfriend Jim (Anthony Michael Hall) does, but eventually senses a part of him that changes something within herself.

Stellar Performances

Alan Arkin (RIP) is fantastic as the patriarch of the family, unaware of what’s really occurring around him. His interactions and observations with Edward are comedy gold, delivered in dry smirking fashion. Dianne Wiest has a sweetness that makes her nurturing spirit and helpful proclivities feel earnest. She’s a ray of sunshine that actually feels at place here.

Winona Ryder is the only one who truly sees Edward and their connection, while short lived, is a tender one. Johnny Depp has a gentle demeanor as the titular Edward. Part trepidation, part curiosity, and part a fish out of water, his introduction into the world mirrors our own, and makes him relatable and empathetic.

Within this candy coated suburbia lies a judgmental sneer, rejecting individuality unless it can be controlled. So much is left unexplained within the film and it requires that level of disbelief that comes with any story of this ilk.

I can overlook some of the poor makeup (primarily just the aging of Ryder) because the practical effects and production design is incredible. Danny Elfman knocks it out of the park again, hitting some notes that hone a fragility and inner turmoil not without a wondrous fascination.

Edward Scissorhands feels both childish and matured, and within the scope of the narrative is a life’s worth of lessons.

This is one of Burton’s best and it’s one of aesthetic power and emotional resonance. It’s a magical odyssey of invention and human emotion, with a distinguishable tone and look.

This one is for the weirdos, with cookies for hearts, and longings that last decades.

“Hold me, I can’t.”