|
Ed Wood
|
First, Tim Burton got a lot of stuff wrong. Edward
D. Wood, Jr., while cursed with boundless enthusiasm for filmmaking, was also a womanizer,
boozer, and smoked and swore up a storm. We don't quite see this onscreen. Bela Lugosi
hardly ever, if at all, swore himself, was quite a gentle fellow, had a longtime friendship with
Boris Karloff, and had been making movies at the time he met Ed. Just not very many, and
yes, he was an addict and in ill health. That part was accurate. And I could go on about how
the histories of his films were equally muddled, but then that's nitpicking. This is a nutty movie
about a nutty guy and the wackos who were just as deluded as he. Johnny Depp, according
to Wood's own widow, is spot on as Edward D. Wood, Jr., often referred to as the worst film
director ever. The truth is that there are worse - much
worse, but none have been so
entertainingly bad. Aye, there's the rub.
When I heard that Tim Burton was doing a film about Ed Wood, I was quite excited and had
high hopes that he'd be treated with great affection. If any filmmaker truly appreciated Wood,
it had to be Burton. Fortunately he did a fine job of it. The opening credits set the
tone straight off,
from Jeffery Jones as the amazing Criswell rising from a coffin and repeating almost verbatim
his famous (infamous?) opening speech from Plan Nine From Outer
Space. From there the
credits include a stop-motion animated montage of the most famous elements from Ed's
films, from the cardboard gravestones to the octopus to the flying saucers valiantly portrayed
by paper plates painted silver and hung on strings. I read about how this sequence was done.
The opening credits alone cost more than any of Ed's movies, and the "amateurish" shaking of
the saucers was painstakingly accomplished via motion control. Too bad Wood is dead now.
He coulda done the whole thing for 10 bucks.
We meet Ed before his semi-fame, in Los Angeles, present at the performance of one of his
stage plays about World War II. Ed actually served in "Dubya
Dubya 2," as a paratrooper.
Needless to say, the play is panned. By the way, when we meet Ed, he's already surrounding
himself with a loyal company of bad actors, including John "Bunny" Breckenridge, played by Bill
Murray with typically perfect deadpan, Conrad Brooks (who has a cameo as a bartender in this
film), Paul Marco, who later founded and is still president of his own fan club, and Ed's girlfriend
Dolores Fuller, who desperately wants a normal life. Fat chance. Besides, she's just as deluded
about her talents as the rest.
In the real world, Ed works for Paramount Studio's prop department, where he gets wind of the
latest productions, yet can never be part of them no matter how much he tries. But Ed has an
unquenchable desire to make movies, even if he has to write, produce, direct and star in them
himself. He does try to find other producers and distributors at first, such as the hack who makes
skin flicks. In Ed's case, a sex change flick.
Before he gets to that, though, Ed's moment of destiny arrives when he meets none other than
Bela Lugosi, aka Martin Landau in his award-winning performance. Seriously. He won the Oscar
for Best Supporting Actor. Not bad for a comedy. Actually, Ed spots him trying out coffins in
anticipation of his approaching death. Hollywood has not been kind to him in his later years. Like
Karloff and Vincent Price, Lugosi never could quite break out of the horror mold, but at least they
didn't become addicted to morphine.
Ed jumps back into filmmaking with renewed enthusiasm now that he has a big star like Lugosi
willing to make pictures with him. The so-called sex change flick becomes
Glen or Glenda? in
Ed's incapable hands. Ed makes this one from the heart. He's not a transsexual, but a transvestite,
and that's the picture he makes. Dolores, as ever, plays his girlfriend. Thanks to official backing,
Ed can afford to pay Lugosi for his part, which he does secretly, for some reason. The makeup
man sees the morphine needle tracks on Lugosi's arms, but says nothing. Then one of Ed's pals makes the
mistake of chatting with Lugosi and mentioning Boris Karloff, the "limey cocksucker not fit to
smell (his) shit," according to Bela. In truth, he was friends with Karloff, but a temper tantrum
makes for a better scene.
Lugosi films his incomprehensible speech that opens
Glen or Glenda?, production is wrapped,
and Ed can't get anyone to show it, including the hack producer. He leaves it with Warner
Brothers, where a producer calls it the worst thing he's ever seen and bans Ed from entering the
lot. So now what? Make your own movies, says Dolores. This means… fund-raising
parties!
But first, Ed has to meet the magnificent Criswell, professional razzler and dazzler. Or really, a
TV psychic whose predictions never come true. They meet backstage after a comic on a live TV
show blindsides Bela with improvisation. Shame on him for not respecting the old actor. Criswell
takes them all out to the Brown Derby for some serious cheering up.
Ed's not done expanding his entourage yet, though. Tor Johnson, the 300+ pound Swedish
wrestler with an astounding resemblance to George "The Animal" Steele (or is that the other
way around), is brought on board to play Lobo, the mutated monster who gets the girl at the end.
Now on to the fund-raisers. It turns out that none other than Vampira is at the Brown Derby with
her own friends, but Ed fails to convince her to join his motley crew. For now. Okay, so the bills
are finally paid by Loretta King, aka Juliet Landau in pre-Drusilla mode, who's new in town, has
money, and is allergic to all liquids. Or are they?
Without getting into more detail of the story, since it has to be seen to be believed, this is how
Ed worked. Grab every opportunity that comes up and run with it, no matter how ridiculous.
Make the movie and get the money later. Every take is perfect even if the overhead lighting
crashes into the furniture. If your lead is addicted to morphine and suicidal, it's okay; he's still on
your side. Throughout the film Ed compares himself favorably to Orson Welles, another
misunderstood independent filmmaker. He finally meets his idol in his favorite bar after having
stormed off the set of his magnum opus, Plan Nine From Outer
Space, because of creative
differences with the producers. The producers happen to be members of a church and keep
questioning Ed's choices, such as cardboard tombstones and scenes switching back and
forth between night and day. Fortunately Welles can only take Woods' word for it on being a
filmmaker, and they trade notes. Fight for your film, urges Welles, and by gum, Woods does.
He takes control of Plan Nine once more and finishes it according to his vision. At the gala
premiere, which never happened, mind you, but this is less depressing, Ed introduces it with
"This one's for Bela." At the end we're told, a la American Graffiti, what happened to these
misfits of science. And their fates all made perfect sense.
What I Liked: ah, geez, where to start. The inaccuracies of Ed's life can be dismissed here.
It was Depp's idea to strip all foul language from Ed, who in reality swore with the best of them.
This way we're left with the pure, childlike enthusiasm for making movie magic that Ed also
possessed. No explanation is given for Ed's fascination with the freaky characters he
associates with, although the appeal of women's clothing is explained. As Ed himself says
often, he's all man and loves women; he just likes to dress
like them, which is true of the vast
majority of transvestites. Only Dolores Fuller manages to escape Ed's
delusional world. There
doesn't seem to be anyone in this film who doesn't "get" their character. Certainly not Depp or
Landau, who won an Oscar, you recall. He even delivers Bela's film speeches better than Bela
did. I think an Oscar went to Best Makeup, as well. Transforming Landau into Bela Lugosi was
no small feat, it turns out. I doubt if any makeup at all was needed for George Steele, who
seems to be Tor reincarnated. Well, not his voice. Steele's is enormously deep, and Tor's,
although thickly accented, was fairly high-pitched. Sort of like a Swedish Mike Tyson.
I'm always glad to see Jeffrey Jones in any film. Fortunately Tim Burton feels the same way
I do, which is why he keeps casting him. To my knowledge this is Bill Murray's only Tim Burton
film, yet he does wonders with his small part, but then, that's Murray. Everything about this film
wraps its big celluloid arms around the freaks of society and gives them all a big hug. We don't
need to know why these people are the way they are; they're all out there. People like Ed just
have a talent for finding them.
What I Didn't Like: In general I'm no fan of Sarah Jessica Parker. But to be fair, she played
the part of the suffering girlfriend well, and after she left Ed, stayed gone. And I lied above
about not needing to know the characters' backstories. The exception is Kathy, who meets
Ed in the hospital where Lugosi is treated for his addiction. Played by Patricia Arquette, she's
a normal girl who instantly accepts Ed's confession to wearing women's clothing, and takes
everything else about him in stride. While not denying the attractiveness of Johnny Depp,
she just doesn't come across as weird enough to belong in Ed's world. They got married,
after all, and by all acounts, stayed with him to the end. But that's really a minor complaint.
Kathy's part isn't large enough to get in the way, and it helped the viewer to see Ed finding
love again after Dolores leaves. Burton wanted to end his biopic on a high note, after all.
|
|
