Renowned for crafting incredibly bad films and often cited as the "worst director ever", Edward D. Wood Jr. has become a cult icon inside the world of film. Although his films are entirely detestable, they are rarely a chore to watch because of the comedic value which is on offer. It could be argued that he was the man who gave birth to "Z movie horror." It is widely acknowledged that Tim Burton has long been an admirer of classic horror films, which resulted in his reoccurring use of German expressionism (mise-en-scène) and Gothic themes in his own works. Similar to many of Tim Burton's films, Ed Wood is about a bizarre, eccentric and unique man.
Chronicling a man's rise to "personal success" and his overwhelming desire to become the next Orson Welles, Ed Wood charts the director's fascinatingly manic career; from Glen or Glenda, to Plan 9 from Outer Space. Both are two of the most shamefully undesirable disasters "Hollywood" has ever produced, but to Ed Wood they were gold. Even so, he was a man who had the utmost level of zest for his so-called "art" and would never back-down to the barrage of criticism he would constantly receive. To Ed Wood, Glen or Glenda was a highly personal film, which was supposed to tell the world his desire to wear women's clothes, instead it made him look entirely foolish. This pretty much defines the career of the "world's worst director." Strangely enough, Ed Wood is not a biopic which bashes the man, or makes fun out of him. Instead, Tim Burton creates a loving homage to the quintessential master of the "Z movie."
Upon finishing a Tim Burton film it is irregular not to undergo satisfaction, but with Ed Wood it is impossible. Evidently, (or at least I believe so) it is Burton's most triumphant work to-date, yet oddly enough, receives underwhelming acclaim. It is a shame that viewers of today are prepared to spend money to see terrible odes like Mars Attacks (a disastrous experiment by Burton) and then turn down the opportunity to experience a genuine homage, such as Ed Wood. The lovable, informative and often amusing take on the life of a cinematic failure ranks among the greatest films from the '90s.
Delivering staggering vigour and once again proving his versatility, Johnny Depp took centre-stage for his finest collaboration with mentor-like Burton. And to think that it was not until 2003's Pirates of the Caribbean was released that Depp received his first academy award nomination. Robbery, considering his performance was undoubtedly the best of its year (1994). How many male actors are prepared to accept almost any role, do anything for it (e.g. prance around in drag) and actually achieve the utmost level of professionalism? Luckily and ironically, actor Marin Landau received an Oscar for Best Supporting Actor (awarded for his role as the drug-addicted and deadbeat Dracula star, Bella Lugosi). These are performances of aching personality, and are drenched with amusing anecdotes.
Filmed in black-and-white, Ed Wood crafts a precise image of the 1950s Hollywood scene. Not only does it signify poignancy, but it also swells with nostalgia. Camera movements are both graceful and erratic, suited as allegory for Mr. Wood's own unpredictability. Surely this is a personal work, something which can be noted through the tactfully comic screenplay. With the exception of factual (although not fatal by any means) inaccuracies, the picture remains a victorious achievement and should be hailed for its comic brilliance more regularly, if you ask me. As a director (and on a side note), Tim Burton should be applauded for his ability to pay sympathy and respect for a man who was painfully oblivious of his exceptional ineptness. It would have been arrogant to have shown blatant pity for Edward D. Wood Jr., so as a director he remains subtle when underlying his sympathy (and even understanding) of a futile longing for excellence.
Chronicling a man's rise to "personal success" and his overwhelming desire to become the next Orson Welles, Ed Wood charts the director's fascinatingly manic career; from Glen or Glenda, to Plan 9 from Outer Space. Both are two of the most shamefully undesirable disasters "Hollywood" has ever produced, but to Ed Wood they were gold. Even so, he was a man who had the utmost level of zest for his so-called "art" and would never back-down to the barrage of criticism he would constantly receive. To Ed Wood, Glen or Glenda was a highly personal film, which was supposed to tell the world his desire to wear women's clothes, instead it made him look entirely foolish. This pretty much defines the career of the "world's worst director." Strangely enough, Ed Wood is not a biopic which bashes the man, or makes fun out of him. Instead, Tim Burton creates a loving homage to the quintessential master of the "Z movie."
Upon finishing a Tim Burton film it is irregular not to undergo satisfaction, but with Ed Wood it is impossible. Evidently, (or at least I believe so) it is Burton's most triumphant work to-date, yet oddly enough, receives underwhelming acclaim. It is a shame that viewers of today are prepared to spend money to see terrible odes like Mars Attacks (a disastrous experiment by Burton) and then turn down the opportunity to experience a genuine homage, such as Ed Wood. The lovable, informative and often amusing take on the life of a cinematic failure ranks among the greatest films from the '90s.
Delivering staggering vigour and once again proving his versatility, Johnny Depp took centre-stage for his finest collaboration with mentor-like Burton. And to think that it was not until 2003's Pirates of the Caribbean was released that Depp received his first academy award nomination. Robbery, considering his performance was undoubtedly the best of its year (1994). How many male actors are prepared to accept almost any role, do anything for it (e.g. prance around in drag) and actually achieve the utmost level of professionalism? Luckily and ironically, actor Marin Landau received an Oscar for Best Supporting Actor (awarded for his role as the drug-addicted and deadbeat Dracula star, Bella Lugosi). These are performances of aching personality, and are drenched with amusing anecdotes.
Filmed in black-and-white, Ed Wood crafts a precise image of the 1950s Hollywood scene. Not only does it signify poignancy, but it also swells with nostalgia. Camera movements are both graceful and erratic, suited as allegory for Mr. Wood's own unpredictability. Surely this is a personal work, something which can be noted through the tactfully comic screenplay. With the exception of factual (although not fatal by any means) inaccuracies, the picture remains a victorious achievement and should be hailed for its comic brilliance more regularly, if you ask me. As a director (and on a side note), Tim Burton should be applauded for his ability to pay sympathy and respect for a man who was painfully oblivious of his exceptional ineptness. It would have been arrogant to have shown blatant pity for Edward D. Wood Jr., so as a director he remains subtle when underlying his sympathy (and even understanding) of a futile longing for excellence.