Hit Me With Your Best Shot: Edward Scissorhands ~ Cinesnatch

There is so much to be admired in Edward Scissorhands: the original mythical story from the mind of Tim Burton with shades of Pinocchio, Frankenstein and the Christ parable; the simple and sweet performances; the irony and dark comedy; and just plain sick art direction including all of the ornate topiary and use of pastels and color in a timeless, quirky suburbia. It’s just a beautiful movie. And, while there aren’t a lot of moments that carry a specific resonance for me personally, my favorite shot by far is towards the end where we see why the timid title character has been sentenced to a life with scissors for hands. His creator (Vincent Price) passes away just as he is about to finish the final touch (so to speak). It’s a simple social commentary on the nurture aspect of being raised into a fully functioning adult, something we as a society larger ignore and sweep under the rug. We hold so many people responsible for criminal and moral-less behaviors without hardly ever addressing the source of their (our) ills. Just plain luck creates what many view as the necessary separation between black and white. People, especially conservatives, love to poke fun at the title of one of Hillary Clinton’s most popular books: It Takes a Village. But, the concept confronts a grey area too few want to contemplate and embrace. Somehow, it’s the unattainable Utopian ideal that no one has time and resources for. Yet, we're willing to view foreign agents through a one-dimensional prism, as long as we receive something in the bargain. Otherwise, they're scary and expendable and we're not interested in the complexity of how they came to be.

I love it when filmmakers play around with studio logos

While the film is filled with memorable performances, one of my favorites is the flawless Kathy Baker as Joyce, the horny housewife who gets what she wants, or there will be Hell to pay. When the sexually-charged minx innocently lifts her leg back while looking to see who is at the door, it's completely believably that this action is a natural part of her art of seduction. Much of her character is actually related to her feet. One moment she is stepping on her dog Kisses, and the next, she's expressing ecstasy while Edward clips her a new hairstyle. The same implement she uses to convey pleasure during an orgasmic haircut set to a stringed melody is the tool she uses to violently communicate her disdain at her dog's inconvenient barking. And she gets all kinds of bitchy lines, too. When Avon comes calling, rather than simply say that she's not interested, she goes out of her way to ridicule the woman. “Why, Peg, have you gone blind. Can’t you see there’s a vehicle in my driveway?” She taps her fingers on the door frame, waiting for Peg to take a hint. “Well, I’m surprised you don’t realize that means I’m busy.”

"But, at the very least, let me give you a good astringent.
And this will help to prevent infection."

My absolute favorite turn in this film belongs to Dianne Wiest, though, who won duel Supporting Actress Oscars four years before and after this film came out, and, were it not for such a competitive year, she would have probably received a nod for this movie also (having received her second nod the year before for Parenthood). There's a reason why Wiest has two Oscars. The bitch is absolutely brilliant. Listen to the different intonations in her voice as she reprimands her son for staring at Edward at the dinner table. How many different ways can you say Kevin and it still means the same thing? I’m sure Wiest could come up with a few more. Sweet, funny, hard-working, and compassionate, she provides the (human) heart to complement Edward's (cookie) heart.

Edward sees in terms of possibility. The sadly unmaintained shrubs and trees inundating the neighborhood are ripe candidates for creative makeover. “You have every reason to get excited," Peg tells him. He also sees what is missing from his life: family. He is so willing to give of his talent in hopes that his heart can be warmed by the void of people he can call his own in his life.

How lucky we were for Burton to capture Vincent Price in such an appropriate role three years before he died. Great directors know how to tap into preexisting resources which go largely unused. Price is given an endearing role during Burton's seamless use of flashbacks, as the film takes place in three different periods of time.

One of the nuances of the film include Edward's consecutive discoveries of his abilities, as well as that of the rest of the neighborhood. As he is about to unleash his landscaping skills in the backyard, the father Bill (Alan Arkin) asks his son to turn up the radio and "Make it louder." While the sound of Edward's vigorous activity is drowned out by the baseball game, it's not until the son turns his head and realizes what he's up to. The moment Edward discovers he can also cut an animal's hair, the dog clipping is muffled by the sound of the owner watering the grass. It's not until the climax that daughter Kim investigates his final creation: a larger than life ice sculpture of an angel. Walking into the front yard, she begins twirling around in the residual flakes that fall around her like snow.

He who lives by the scissors, dies by the scissors. The very thing the neighborhood finds special in him is also what they feel threatened by. He can pick a lock, but he can't open a door handle.

Burton's insanely charming use of color

Burton is both able to comment on the mundaneness and repression of suburbia, while holding his characters in a fond nostalgia. Even a tented house doesn’t stick out. Aberrations are cloaked in normalcy in this director's world. The art direction of Vincent’s garden and abode is jaw-dropping impressive.