Corpse Bride

 

With this hand I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never be empty, for I will be your wine. With this candle, I will light your way into darkness. With this ring, I ask you to be mine.

~ Victor Van Dort

 

quick fox: A- | Silver


winding dragon

If you like Tim Burton’s The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993), then you’ll love Corpse Bride. And that’s pretty much the best review anybody can give. My work here is done. 

…But I suppose that wouldn’t be quite fair. Who’s to say that just because I like one I’ll like the other? Well, if you’re a fan of singing skeletons and puns about dismemberment, then you’ll be more than entertained. 

Burton is a master of gothic storytelling, and he delivers once again with Corpse Bride (2005). Set in Victorian times, this stop-motion fairy tale tells the story of Victor Van Dort (Johnny Depp) and his arranged marriage with Victoria Everglot (Emily Watson). But things go down under (literally) quickly, when Victor practices his wedding vows in the forest and accidentally becomes married to Emily (Helena Bonham Carter), a bride from the Land of the Dead. What follows next is a series of amusing Victorian satire and parody on dark romantic comedies, as Victor tries to find his way back home.

The best and worst thing about Corpse Bride is its comparison to The Nightmare Before Christmas. While they do have opposite plots—the former about the living going below to the dead and the latter about the dead going above to the living—Tim Burton’s style is distinctively stamped on each. What Corpse Bride has in its favor is 12 years of advancement in stop-motion technology. The animation is quite fluid and, for the most part, devoid of choppiness. Expansive and varied camera angles also give it a feeling of being an actual movie, whereas the cinematography in The Nightmare Before Christmas often feels stage-like and compacted. 

I also enjoy the witty, ironic dialogue of Corpse Bride, with lines like Victor’s, “This just can’t work. We’re just too different. I mean…you’re dead.” However, I do understand the appeal of the dark (and often unnerving) physical humor of The Nightmare Before Christmas, especially with the spider-like movements of Jack Skellington.

Another comparison is certain to arise between the two movies’ soundtracks. Burton’s favorite partner in crime, Danny Elfman, composes both, and the whimsical style is evident in each as well. It is hard to justify comparing the music of Corpse Bride with that of The Nightmare Before Christmas—it’s difficult to top “This is Halloween” or “What’s This?”—but Corpse Bride holds its own well enough. None of the songs are particularly memorable, but they tie the plot along nicely and aren’t as central to the film as they are in The Nightmare Before Christmas. Probably the most crucial is the somber song, “Tears to Shed,” which provides significant character development and audience sympathy for Emily.

Speaking of character development, I also felt more attached to the characters in Corpse Bride. With The Nightmare Before Christmas, the movie is focused more on the spectacle and design of the characters rather than a complete arch. In only a short 80 minutes, Corpse Bride utilizes humor and affectionate moments to bring the audience closer to Victor, Victoria and Emily. The most heartfelt and symbolic of instances is each time Victor plays the piano, once with Victoria and once with Emily. 

So this Halloween, if you’re looking for an alternative holiday movie besides good ol’ Jack and Sally, try starting a new tradition with Corpse Bride.