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Corpse Bride Johnny Depp, Helena Bonham Carter Directed by Tim Burton |
How fortunate that my connections at the Children’s Sickle Cell Anemia Foundation in Greater Edmonton would finally come to fruition. The Foundation director, Gerry Klebsch, informed me that his brother — a local film critic — had obtained a copy of Corpse Bride, Tim Burton’s return to the realm of stop-motion computer animation, last visited by moviegoers in his 1993 effort Tim Burton’s The Nightmare Before Christmas.
The inner child in me released a brief peal of sweet laughter, and I immediately set about procuring myself a seat at the home of Gerry’s male sibling. To say Burton’s Nightmare was a favorite of mine for many years would be a grave understatement, if you will pardon the pun, and you must. (The film’s tridactic handling of multi-holiday ideology streams was the subject of my Master’s Thesis in Semiopsychotomy at the University of Helsinki in 1994.)
As the credits rolled, I could not help but enter a mild paroxysm of delight — at last, I would be privy to Nightmare’s long-awaited sequel. I prayed I would not be disappointed.
Gratefully, I was not. Jack Skellington, having won the heart of Sally in the previous film, has been granted mortal form by the gods that govern the Holiday Worlds of Old, and given the appellation of Victor. They are to be married, but somehow Jack — or Victor — loses the nerve. He then goes on an adventure to seek a proper bride, Emily, who belongs to his old stomping grounds of Halloweentown.
A “to thine own self be true” tale through and through, Burton masterfully traverses the same tropes he did in the 1993 classic — as well as in Beetlejuice — to the satisfaction of Nightmare fans everywhere. If you at all wonder what became of Lock, Shock, and Oogie Boogie, you must, must see this sequel.
Indeed, Burton himself has stayed true to the only movie he is capable of making. It is even more adept than Burton’s Edward Scissorhands prequel Sleepy Hollow.