I had an odd reaction to Big Fish. Here's a movie that wants very much to tug at your heartstrings, and while that was effective to some degree for me, I actually came away with more admiration from a cerebral standpoint. For what it tries to do and how it goes about doing it, this is a really good film. But something kept me at arm's length.

At heart, Big Fish is a fantasy movie. The story concerns a man (Billy Crudup) who has become estranged from his father (Albert Finney) because all his father ever does is tell tall tales about his life. Now the father is dying, so the son returns for a last chance to find out who his father really is. Much to his dismay, dad keeps telling those exaggerated accounts. Director Tim Burton makes it abundantly clear that the movie's "juicy" parts are in those stories, which get played out on the screen. Those sections have a "Forrest Gump meets The Adventures of Baron Munchausen" feel to them, and are a delight to watch, boasting fine art direction and populated with all sorts of crazy characters, like a witch, a giant, and a pair of Siamese twins.

As much as those scenes work, there's a part of them that feels a little too aware of their purpose. The whimsy is  applied a bit too thickly. Ewan McGregor plays the father as a young man, and he's in Zip Martin mode from Down with Love, which is to say he's consciously ingratiating. The fantasies are meant to be quirky, but quirk should come casually, without at first drawing attention to itself. The movie doesn't quite succeed at this. Sadly, this attitude carries into  the ending, which is meant to be very touching -- again, the film gets it right most of the way, but it's conscious about itself, so not everything clicks. 

I know the movie aims to charm the socks off of us -- emphasis on the word "movie." Or, to put it another way, that charm is supposed to be communicated naturally from the screen to us, the audience. Even though it shows some weakness there, the style of the fantasy sections works perfectly within the context -- the world -- of the movie. After all, this centers on a man who has alienated his son because his stories are too fantastic -- perhaps knowingly fantastic. Seen in that light, the fantasy sequences are done just right -- they win the audience over with their effusiveness, even as viewers are all too aware of that effusiveness. The appealing nature of the father's tall tales annoys the son. However, when he talks to his wife, she essentially says, "I like his stories," with a tone and look that adds, "even though I know they're too fantastic to be real."

I find it admirable that this movie about embellishment makes a case for the art of embellishment. These days, people rarely believe in the fantastic anymore, so it's difficult to spin new myths and create new legends. However, myths and legends have an innate appeal to human beings, and the art of telling them should not be neglected nor forgotten. Movies, arguably our most effective myth-makers, illustrate this point. They give us the fantasies to believe in as we live our everyday lives. It is somewhat a pity, then, that Big Fish makes the artificiality of its fantasies too apparent, since the most effective myths are the ones where we can't see the strings.

But, again, thinking about this movie has given me more to appreciate about it. It may not be hiding its strings, but because of this approach, it showcases an important aspect about storytellers and their tales -- no matter how the stories are told, the storyteller always reveals something about himself through them. In Big Fish, the son takes a long time to realize that by listening to his father's crazy anecdotes, he's learned more about him than he ever could have through straightforward accounts -- he may not have the facts, but he has the man himself. Movies are the same way -- we learn more about themes, worldviews, and personal idiosyncrasies by observing how a movie is presented than we could by just following its plot. It's a wondrous demonstration of how much an artist is revealed through the art, no matter how successful the art actually is in achieving its original goals -- and how rewarding it can be for us when we simply watch and listen.

(Released by Columbia Pictures and rated "PG-13" for a fight scene, some images of nudity and a suggestive reference.)

Review also posted at www.windowtothemovies.com.