TIM BURTON'S TRICKY TREAT
By Richard Corliss
From Time, 11.22.1999
For nearly 200 years the tale has kept children awake and atremble--or
lulled them to sleep with Washington Irving's drolly orotund
style. "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow" is still a bedtime
staple in tonier households, and with its Headless Horseman
hurling a grimacing pumpkin at the head of Ichabod Crane, the
story helped create the American giddying-up of Halloween as
a funny fright night. But like so many old fables, "Sleepy
Hollow" is chiefly remembered in its Disney version. That
1958 cartoon short, a genial mix of comedy and anxiety, took
its tone from the voice of its narrator: Bing Crosby. A lulling,
a chuckle, then a little scare. Buh-buh-buh-boo!
Tim Burton will not let you go so easy into that dark night.
The director wants to turn this fairy tale into a full-blooded
ghost story--and a total Tim Burton experience. So for this
end-of-the-century parable (it's set in 1799), he imports the
bats from Batman, the jack-o'-lantern from Nightmare
Before Christmas and, as Ichabod Crane, Johnny Depp
from Edward Scissorhands and Ed Wood.
Instead of the bright Halloween hues of the Disney version,
Burton gives his film a swankly, dankly desaturated color scheme.
And just to make sure he doesn't go soft, he hires Andrew Kevin
Walker, author of the sleazorific Se7en and
8mm, to write the screenplay. No one will fall
asleep in this Sleepy Hollow. It revs up the
gore.
Is there a Headless Horseman? Then he'd better cut off some
heads--heads that, when detached by the whoosh of the Horseman's
blade, go spinning, rolling, bobbing as if each were a top,
a bowling ball, a Halloween apple on its way from Hollow to
hell. (The terminally cool Tussaud effects are by Kevin Yagher,
who also worked on the script.) Irving's Horseman, a long-dead
Hessian mercenary, was most likely a story to scare away intruders
and, when Ichabod sees him, a human prankster toying with the
gullible schoolteacher. Here, though, the creature must be realer
than a nightmare--a galloping plague to purge Sleepy Hollow.
He is embodied, occasionally, by Christopher Walken, who could
terrify small children just by singing "I'm a Little Teapot."
In full Horseman drag, with his spiky teeth and Stygian melancholy,
Walken is an R rating waiting to happen.
Crane's name was his frame: a gangly galoot and, when he fell
for buxom Katrina Van Tassel, an easy prey for the burly lads
of Sleepy Hollow. In Burton's revision and Depp's incarnation,
Crane is a Manhattan constable sent upriver to solve a murder;
predating Poe's Auguste Dupin by several decades, he is America's
first detective. He is also a troubled soul, carrying literal
scars from childhood and memories that roil his sleep. So handsome,
so haunted, he proves irresistible to this Katrina (Christina
Ricci). Yet Depp bumbles and stumbles, just like the old Ichabod;
he is the hero and the comic relief in one tightly wound package.
Doesn't always work, but we've been admiring this actor's bravado
and forgiving his excesses for ages. Why stop now? Besides,
he ultimately makes Ichabod a truly obsessive romantic hero:
Byron by Ahab.
The story is still set just north of New York City (and visually
quotes the Hudson River School of painters), but it was filmed
in a studio near London and cast mostly with British actors.
At first the accents are jarring; viewers will stop to wonder
just when Americans finally learned to speak American. But the
presence of Michael Gambon, Miranda Richardson and especially
Christopher Lee will tip you to Burton's intent. He is making
not an American folktale but a British horror movie--a tribute
to the Hammer studio of the late '50s and later, to its Dracula
and Frankenstein remakes, to the decorum punctuated by gore,
the stake driven into the capacious bosom.
Funny thing is, those movies weren't very good. This one is:
Burton's richest, prettiest, weirdest since Batman Returns.
The simple story bends to his twists, freeing him for an exercise
in high style. Sleepy Hollow may be late for
Halloween, but this trick is a real treat.