Burton's melancholic masterpiece

Rating: 10/10 (19 August 2015)

Let's start out by declaring this my all time favorite film without reservations. And when I say favorite I do not mean that in the way I can say The Goonies is one of my favorite films. No no no. I mean that I consider this, artistically, the finest movie I've seen so far - and I'm not a young man anymore. It has held this place for me for decades and even though I still secretly wish some new film will come along and sweep me off my feet the way Scissorhands did, I deem this more unlikely by the year.
I have to admit, I didn't have much respect for Burton before watching Scissorhands. I was still young during his first films, and being a child through the 80's raised on Spielberg fare, I simply couldn't understand and appreciate Burton's dark vision in the first two Batmans (which I disliked back then). I still remember watching Scissorhands on T.V. for the first time and going through half the movie with a "this ain't that bad, but it's not anything special either" attitude until that Ice Dance sequence came along and then thinking "what the hell just happened?".
Theme is an important factor when determining a favorite film. No matter what the artistic quality of a movie, some themes are bound to resonate more with some specific audiences than others. As it happens, Scissorhands has essentially the best treatment of the theme that resonates most strongly with my tastes: loneliness and being different in a hostile environment. "Oh, this is so emo!", you will counter. But this is the same story behind Frankenstein. Or Oedipus Rex. Or Star Wars for that matter. Hell, there is hardly a story worth telling in literature or cinema that doesn't incorporate this element. The hero is the hero precisely because he is different from everybody else, otherwise he would be an extra in his own story. Some will hate him and some will love him for that and the entire point in storytelling is how the hero's differences eventually play out in the grander scheme of things.
Burton chose to hit the nail right on the head and didn't hesitate from turning individuality, loneliness and the outsider into the central theme of this film. Right after his Batman success and being given essentially free reign to do whatever he wanted, Burton decided he would craft his most personal work. It isn't hard to see there was a lot of input from his own life going into the character of Edward, a man that is doomed to be both highly creative and highly destructive. Scissorhands is a work of love for Burton and it shows.
Story-wise, this isn't but a retelling of Frankenstein. The inventor creates an artificial man but dies before finishing his work, leaving Edward incomplete and all alone. He eventually attempts a foray into the world outside, which reacts as expected in such situations, at first with curiosity, then with suspicion and eventually with persecution. By the end of the movie, the crowd is assembled, pitchforks and torches in hand to claim the monster's head. The moment Edward steps out of his castle on the hill, he becomes the author of his own tragedy. His creativity and talents draw people to him, while at the same time spread jealousy and hatred against him.
Burton and his screenwriter Caroline Thomson manage to turn this story into a live action magic realism piece that doesn't shy away from comedy and manages adeptly its heavy material without going all doom and gloom on us. Many have tried to do magic realism on screen and failed miserably and Scissorhands is one of the few exceptions that does the genre justice. The story starts as a bed-time story, with the simple question "why does it snow?" and by the end of the film, under Danny Elfman's masterful score, you finally get your answer in a perfect cinematic circle the equal of Forrest Gump's feather sequence, or Twelve Monkeys.
The main character is brought to life by a captivating Johny Depp, who gives at a very young age a performance that is one of the best of his illustrious career as the tormented protagonist, essentially a silent role, relying mostly on physicality and eye expression. A similarly young and radiant Winona Ryder accompanies him, along with a cast of well known stars like Dianne Wiest and Alan Arkin and even Vincent Price in his farewell performance as the inventor.
Burton was at his creative peak at the time and his vision is fresh and uncompromising, from his Gothic character and set designs to the pal suburbia that hides more dangers than a castle ever could. His directorial prowess here is a sight to behold, with every sequence very thought out and immaculately executed. There are so many scenes in Scissorhands that stand out. The lyrical opening titles, the cookie factory sequence, the Ice Dance, the devastating finale. Or the moment of the inventor's death, where Edward's first touch with his creator only leaves a bleeding wound... perfection.
There is so much talent involved in the making of this movie it is hard to find fault in any department. Collen Atwood would go on to win 3 Oscars and many nominations with her costume designs, Bo Welch is a Burton staple and Richard Halsey was the Oscar winning editor of Rocky. All of them give some of their career best in Scissorhands. The great Stan Winston created the scissor effects. And then there is Danny Elfman, who composed his best score ever to complement this dark masterpiece, arguably one of the best scores of the decade.