Dark Shadows
★★
(2011)
Burton and Depp’s everlasting collaboration falls further into an out and out mess as their eighth film comes to a close. Dark Shadows is a reproduction of a horror series shown after school every day in the houses of suburban America. Screened in the late 1960’s and early 1970’s, a period of time in which the USA was in constant turmoil and the children and young adults of the day could escape into it’s gothic charm. A nice sentiment and an understandable reason for both Depp and Burton to be drawn to it, however by the time the obvious and insulting final frames fly past your eyes all nostalgia (might you have had any to begin with) will disappear along with all hope that the once mighty prince of Gothic suburbia will return to make anything of any worth again.
Deep plays Barnabas Collins, the son and heir to a wealthy fishing town in Maine, orphaned and cursed with vampiric eternal life by witch Angelique (Eva Green). After she’s denied Collins love and murdered his fiancé, the dastardly woman decides to keep the poor chap locked away in a coffin for 200 years only to be awoken in 1971 where he sets about rebuilding his family name and fortune with the remaining members of his family, still battling Angelique who has become the hottest and most respected bit of fishing crumpet in little old Collinstown.
We are introduced (though god knows why) to Victoria (Bella Heathcote), placed in the opening credits on a train from New Nork while Knights in White Satin croons along, shown then, and forever presumed (at least in the films infancy) to be our eyes and ears during the proceeding hour and half. Sadly and oddly she is instead almost dropped from the film completely by Burton and writer Seth Graham-Smith as soon as Depp’s vampire is out of the box. It’s as if the pair completely forgot about her until the film’s fairly terrible and clear cut ending.
Naturally the sets are wonderfully designed by Burton regular (Rick Heinrichs) and the cast (Michelle Pfeiffer, Chloë Grace Moretz, Jonny Lee Miller and of course Mrs Burton, Helena Bonham Carter) attempt to do their best with what’s on the table but the whole thing wanders into the plain dumb a little too quickly, business bettering montages, a completely pointless performance by Alice Cooper and the most horrific mis-directed 70’s soundtrack and sex scene in recent memory all aid in uncovering Burton as a man who’s visual flare is finally all he has left to go on.
Green is the best thing here for her unhinged witch but it’s essentially a near cross between Death Becomes Her and Burton’s own Beetlejuice, though obviously nowhere near as funny, sharp or quotable as either. This one is definitely best left in the dark.
