What Happened to Tim Burton?
Warner Bros recently released the first teaser for Beetlejuice Beetlejuice, the upcoming sequel to Tim Burton’s 1988 classic, Beetlejuice. Burton is once again directing and Michael Keaton is back as the titular trickster. For fans of the original, Catherine O’Hara and Winona Ryder are returning, and new additions like Jenna Ortega have joined the cast. Not much is known about the plot, but after nearly four decades, the sky’s the limit. The sequel has ticked a lot of boxes and the trailer was well received, however, I have mixed feelings. I don’t want to assume a Beetlejuice sequel is a bad idea, because that’s a reductive way to look at any sequel. However, when placed in the context of Tim Burton’s filmography, there’s cause for concern.
Now, I want to make something very clear. I don’t dislike Tim Burton. On the contrary, I really like him. He’s made some incredible films, and the combination of his gothic quirk and fierce indie spirit made him one of the most interesting filmmakers around. In fact, I’ve been too lenient towards Burton in the past. Any filmmaker with a distinct visual signature, whether it’s Burton or Wes Anderson, inevitably walks a very fine line between quirky and irksome, and I know I’ve defended Burton at some of his more irksome moments. But it’s not just about the dark theatrically or the extravagance. Burton excels at offering all of the gothic quirk and oddball characters, whilst still having room for subtlety, heart and powerful themes. He doesn’t explore the darkness to point and laugh, but rather to find the beauty, and to make friends with the outcasts.
By this point, you might be thinking “okay…so what’s the problem?” The problem is that Tim Burton reached a distinct turning point in his career, and things haven’t quite been the same since. The Burton many of us fell in love with seemed to leave the building, and was replaced by someone making less exciting films, and more importantly, less emotional films. It seems the spark faded. Rather than telling fresh and wildly inventive stories that no one else could tell, it felt like Burton became another cog in a big studio machine. He now spends his time almost exclusively retelling existing stories, cashing in on existing IP (intellectual property), or releasing sequels. If we examine the list of feature films Burton has directed*, there’s a clear line drawn between the old and new Burton.
*It’s important to note one exclusion many will expect to see. ‘The Nightmare Before Christmas’ isn’t included, because Burton wrote the film but didn’t direct it. It’s still a wonderful film though.*
- Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure (1985) - I don’t think this is anyone’s favourite Burton film, but it’s a humble beginning. If this was the step needed to break into feature length films, it served its purpose.
- Beetlejuice (1988) - Absolutely untouchable. It’s a fantastic feat of filmmaking and storytelling, with a towering performance from Michael Keaton. It’s dark and creative, and to quote Betelgeuse himself, “IT KEEPS GETTING FUNNIER EVERY SINGLE TIME I SEE IT!”
- Batman (1989) - Say what you like about comic book authenticity, this helped pave the way for more comic book adaptations, and it was entertaining and layered. Crucially, although it’s based on existing IP, it retains Burton’s gothic flourishes.
- Edward Scissorhands (1990) - Widely accepted as one of Burton’s best films, and it’s clear why. It’s a gothic fairy tale brought to life in extraordinary fashion.
- Batman Returns (1992) - This planted the seed of what happens to Burton when he plays with familiar toys for too long, and what happens when he’s working for a major studio franchise. It’s a popular film with good elements, but it also makes a few missteps and hasn’t aged well.
- Ed Wood (1994) - For me, this is the best film Burton has ever made. It has so much passion and heart, whilst still being dark and unique, and it’s a loving retelling of an obscure true story.
- Mars Attacks! (1996) - I know not everyone will, but I’ll stand by this film. It has a wacky sense of humour, and it’s a great insight into what a sci-fi film looks like through the lens of Tim Burton.
- Sleepy Hollow (1999) - Another understandably popular film, which proved Burton could lean fully into horror, whilst still telling an engaging story.
- Planet of the Apes (2001) - Surprisingly, this isn’t the turning point. However, it is absolutely an indication of worse things to come, because this a cold, mechanical cash-in on existing IP.
- Big Fish (2003) - Burton is often misidentified as prioritising style over substance, which I disagree with, and films like Big Fish prove he can masterfully deliver both. On an emotional level, Big Fish is probably Burton’s most personal film.
- Corpse Bride (2005) - Another beautiful fairy tale which showcases Burton at his best. A delicate story about love and death, which boasts a wonderful combination of music and stop-motion animation.
I’m afraid this is the turning point. Since the mid 2000s, Burton has moved away from original stories, and has instead focused on playing in existing sandboxes. Now I’m aware sequels, reboots and franchises often (although not always) illicit cynicism among film fanatics. It’s important to remove any biases, like attaching prestige value to original ideas, or diminishing the value of big franchises and IP. It’s possible to make a hollow independent film, like A Cure for Wellness, and it’s also possible to make an emotional and textured franchise film, like Black Panther. The issue therefore isn’t Tim Burton making “bad” films, but making films which are less entertaining, less emotional, less creative and less brave than we know he’s capable of. Let’s continue.
- Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (2005) - The less said about this film the better. It’s a reimagining of a classic story, but it’s oddly stylised, less magical, and actually quite creepy.
- Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street (2007) - I’m sure theatre aficionados can speak with far more authority than me, but as a film lover, I don’t think this measures among Burton’s best. It’s disjointed and heavy-handed, and although it has visual style, there’s something missing on an emotional level.
- Alice in Wonderland (2010) - The concept is intriguing, but the delivery is dreadful. The visuals are bleak and one note, the performances are irritating, and the story is both lifeless and joyless. It reads better as a parody of Burton.
- Dark Shadows (2012) - I still haven’t recovered from how disappointing this was. It’s absolutely baffling, and doesn’t showcase anything that made me fall in love with Burton. It lacks heart, humour, and visual flare, and at a very basic level it struggles to entertain.
- Frankenweenie (2012) - A welcome break from the string of unoriginal films. It’s nothing ground-breaking, but it revisits a concept from early in Burton’s career, and offers more of what audiences expect from Burton.
- Big Eyes (2014) - The one true exception after the turning point. Similar to Ed Wood, this is Burton retelling a true story in glorious fashion. It offers a great blend of entertainment and emotion, and it’s got a wonderful message about fighting for your art.
- Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children (2016) - Another example of a visually appealing film, but one which is lacking in terms of narrative and heart. At a time when superhero films are popular, this could’ve been a chance to see what is essentially an X-Men film made by Tim Burton. Alas, it’s unfortunately something of a goldfish film; it lingers in the mind for about ten seconds.
- Dumbo (2019) - Despite a terrific cast, this is once again a wasted opportunity. The idea of Burton reimagining a classic tale is appealing, but the finished product sadly feels like it was conceived in a board room rather than in the mind of a genius.
- Beetlejuice Beetlejuice (2024) - The reason we’re all here. The idea of a Beetlejuice sequel is odd. On one hand, the ill-fated Beetlejuice Goes Hawaiian script ranks as one of the worst films never made. The title alone turned the concept of a Beetlejuice sequel into a punchline, which has held strong for decades. On the other hand, waiting so long to make the sequel and ensuring Burton returns as director does inspire hope that it’s being made for the right reasons.
For the sake of balance, it’s important to consider Burton’s films in their wider context. Examining the films at face value only provides a partial picture, and there are some factors to keep in mind.
- Cold business moves, like remaking beloved classics or releasing Alice in Wonderland in a horribly retrofitted 3D filter, can’t be blamed solely on the director. Big studios, like oil prospectors, follow the money and almost always lead the charge.
- Even the most creative of minds, like Burton, find themselves losing battles against big studios and having their visions altered.
- Filmmakers sometimes play the game, taking jobs which open opportunities. Christopher Nolan and the Coen Brothers have made “studio” films to fund their next passion project, so it’s possible Burton plays the same game.
Given everything discussed so far, I won’t pretend this situation has a simple answer. But when I ask “what happened to Tim Burton?”, I assure you it’s coming from a place of concern. I’ve asked this question not because I think Burton is a bad filmmaker, but because I know he’s an incredible filmmaker who can and has made better work. This is an uncomfortable line of inquiry because I still have a high opinion of Burton, and it’s disappointing to see him treading water for so long.
While writing this article, I’ve hopefully made it clear that I don’t want or need every film to be a masterpiece. I don’t expect every film to be Citizen Kane, likewise I don’t expect every Tim Burton film to be Ed Wood. My criteria for films is surprisingly limited. I love it when films engage my thoughts and feelings, but that’s not always possible, so my minimum expectation is a simple bit of escapism and entertainment. When Burton is at his best, with films like Beetlejuice, then all of the aforementioned criteria are met. The problem is that when he’s at his lowest, with films like Dark Shadows and Alice in Wonderland, none of those criteria are met. It’s like the aesthetic is still there but key components beyond surface level are in short supply, if not missing entirely.
The important question to ask ourselves as the release of Beetlejuice Beetlejuice grows closer is whether this situation is a lost cause. Personally, I don’t think so. One of my firm rules as a film lover is to give every film a fair shot, and to view them as individual pieces of work. Humans love patterns and connecting dots, which is why we often convince ourselves that a winning or losing streak is underway, but it’s important we abandon any biases. Besides, Burton reaching his turning point isn’t a one way trip, as we’ve already seen with films like Big Eyes. I’m also well informed the Netflix series Wednesday is terrific, and I fully intend to watch it at some point. So not only do I want Burton to return to glory, but I wholeheartedly believe it’s possible. His filmography has far more hits than misses, so it’s not farfetched to assume he can reignite the flame. His genius isn’t gone forever, it’s just been less present in recent years.
For now, I’m approaching Beetlejuice Beetlejuice with a hopeful disposition.
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