Month: January 2004

Well, it’s official. All you aspiring actresses coming on the bus to Movieland from Iowa or Kansas? You might as well turn around right now and go home. Unless you look like a supermodel, of course. Cuz The Movie’s ‘No Fat Chicks/No Ugly Chicks’ sign has been given a new spit-and-polish. Oh, it’s not that they won’t make the odd film about fat or ugly chicks, or even just ordinary-looking chicks without supernatural cheekbones and with enough body fat to actually menstruate, it’s just that they’ll hire gorgeous, statuesque, rail-thin blondes who’ll gain artistic weight and sit for three hours of makeup in order to look like a mere mortal, like the way the rest of us look all the time.

Some people claim to have strong, precise memories from their very earliest childhood. Me, it’s all a jumble. Am I really remembering an event, or am I remembering stories of it from long after? Or am I remembering photos of it? Often, that’s the most likely explanation, to my mind. My memories all seem to have that gauzy quality…

I love Tim Burton’s films, even when they’re not great. I love his unflinching weirdness. I love that he’ll take a chance and go the extra mile of excessiveness even if he fails half the time to take us along, because when he succeeds, it’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. I love all the baroque curlicues — visual and intellectual and humorous — of his vision.