Film Review: Big Fish

Whenever Tim Burton directs a movie, you know to expect a fantastical world with vibrant characters and queer happenings. What you don't expect is the possibility that he might ask you to take a step back and wonder at the implausibility of it all. That's exactly what Big Fish is: a charming movie that blurs the line between reality and fantasy, then asks you to decipher what is real and what is not, and ultimately, what is more important.

Revolving around the extraordinary life of one Edward Bloom, the story thrusts us into the relationship between a creaky, old-age Bloom and his estranged son, Will, who had long ago stopped speaking with his father because he was "like Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny combined...just as charming, and just as fake." Edward has spent his entire life talking about that very thing, his life. He is a master storyteller who enthralls crowds with tall tales of astonishing characters, spectacular feats, and incredible luck. Will, however, has since adulthood tried his best to be most unlike his father, whom he views as a pitiable and embarrassing mess of lies.

Brought together again after Will finds that his father is dying, the movie examines the generational gap between the idealistic old man and the son who refuses to believe the tall tales that make up his father's autobiography. Skipping from one adventure to another in a young Edward's life as the old man recounts his past, we, like Will, begin to find ourselves in disbelief at the sheer absurdity and even the audacity of the elder Bloom to try to pass these children's stories for fact. We completely understand Will's overwhelming frustration when he tells his father, "I have no idea who you are because you have never told me a single fact."

Yet, slowly but surely, the wall between fact and fiction begins to crack, as Will searches for evidence of truth to his father's tales and does indeed find corroborations that reveal very marked measures of honesty. Certainly, some things too impossible must have been conjured up in Edward's mind, but that there could be more veracity to those tall tales than Will had thought brings the movie to an interesting crossroads. There is, after all, something to be said about the difference between outright falsehoods and overzealous embellishments. Here, we are given pause to reflect upon our own disbelief and cynicism thus far: have we been so callously opposed to an enthusiasm for life that cares not for minute accuracies but rather for the spirit of living? Could it be that that Edward's life has not been one of delusion or escapism but quite positively an overeager embrace of all that is good and lovely and enjoyable?

However you choose to interpret the movie's fascinating new developments, Will seems to decide that he was wrong about his father: that he did not live a fake life in an effort to wash over his real one. He merely looked upon life through rose-colored glasses as an ever-optimist. He never meant to deceive others nor cover some shameful secret. He lived life wholeheartedly and simply described it in big, broad strokes rather than waste time dealing with insignificant details. Did it really matter whether the giant he claimed as a traveling companion was actually twelve feet tall or only seven? Whether you agree with Will or not, you will at least be held in wonder at this film that asks something so rarely asked nowadays, whether you might be better off not living life so seriously and so mired in reality.

So how much of Edward's life story was real and how much was not? Only the man himself could know full well the truth about his own life, and even then, as is often said, "Tell a lie enough times and it becomes the truth." Perhaps Edward himself was no longer able to make that distinction. Ultimately, it doesn't matter, and the movie wisely chooses never to reveal the whole truth. To Will, the only thing that mattered in the end was that his father's love for him was real.

Sometimes life finds its meaning more in the way we interpret it than the actual way it unfolds; it is not about the experience itself but the way that we take it in and learn from it. It is here in this sentiment of the movie that we rediscover that magical quality that can capture our senses, emotions, and souls, even in our own real lives. At an earlier point in the movie, Edward complains that his son tells life stories with "all of the facts and none of the flavor." Shouldn't we all think just a little bit more like Edward Bloom if we want to live happier lives?

Score: 8.0