A portrait of the real-life Keanes, San Francisco married couple of the late 1950s and '60s: Walter is a braggart and storyteller (i.e., a good liar) who is masterful at promoting his wife Margaret's paintings of saucer-eyed waifs--but when it comes down to turning the spotlight on the actual artist, he seizes an early opportunity to take credit for the work himself, even though he has absolutely no artistic talent. A study of ego, delusion and, that old standby, how success destroys a marriage, each theme taking precedence over the process of artistic creation. Tim Burton directed, and was obviously more interested in Walter's preening self-importance and Hollywood hobnobbing than in Margaret's inspirations (she churns out paintings--off-camera--at a rapid pace). Christoph Waltz and Amy Adams are unconvincing as the Keanes, neither able to overcome Burton's uncomfortable imbalance of moods gleaned from Scott Alexander and Larry Karaszewski's curiously thin screenplay. As a movie about art, "Big Eyes" is surely a failure, with a timeline presented to us in shorthand. Viewers attracted by the picture's nostalgic trimmings--as a jaunt back in time to a simpler era--might enjoy it, even though the family dynamics are a mess and Waltz's larger-than-life portrayal gets more annoying as the film progresses. *1/2 from ****
Review of Big Eyes
