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A newlywed corpse and the man in black

Corpse Bride (PG)

Here's what's wrong with The Corpse Bride: it's too well done. For all of the pop-goth kids who were weaned on The Nightmare Before Christmas, this movie seemed long overdue, and those kids, myself included, had nothing but high hopes.

In many ways it met those hopes, with a morbidly sweet story and settings to match. Boy meets living girl; boy gets spooked; boy accidentally wakes up the corpse bride and she takes him to the dead people town, where skeleton men dance and sing. Now the boy has to choose between the living girl and the dead one, with lots of complications and a few spells thrown in.

The things that are good about this film are the same things that are good about any Tim Burton film: a palette of blacks, whites and blues; grotesque characters that border on monstrous and Burton's old pal, Johnny Depp, as the star. All of this works. But Corpse Bride also seems to borrow from Nightmare too often. The film features a culture clash reminiscent of the living-dead dichotomy of Nightmare's Halloween and Christmas town, an awkward yet sweeping romance and a skeleton dog.

Tim Burton knows what we see his movies for, and it's all here. But by relying too heavily on advances in CGI animation, he almost loses touch with the other thing that makes him so great: that raw unpolished strangeness, that patchwork quality, that makes all the death and decay seem attractive. Here, the characters look more human, the settings more real. A strange plot needs to feel strange, and it feels too normal here.

Plus, there are few songs in this movie, and Nightmare was an operetta. I realize my bias, but musical films, especially Burton's, should go for more instead of less. Burton excels in excess.

I went into this movie looking for Nightmare Before Christmas Part Deux. Instead, it tries to improve upon Nightmare, which, frankly, can't be done. But for any Burton fan, there's plenty of strange-tasting eye-candy to be had, and The Corpse Bride is still worth a good, long look.

-reviewed by Emilia Garvey

Walk the Line (PG-13)

Every once in a while, Hollywood finds itself fascinated with a particular genre. Lately, Hollywood has found itself obsessed with films of a biographic nature. The films have been mostly hit-or-miss, with some disastrous results, such as Oliver Stone's Alexander. Although it was over-hyped, Martin Scorscese's The Aviator was entrancing at times, and Jamie Foxx's acting in Ray was exceptional.

Walk the Line follows a specific Hollywood biopic blueprint, but there really are no surprises in plot and character here. The Hollywood outline looks something like this: Protagonist has early childhood trauma/abusive or absentee parent(s). Protagonist finds he has gift in (music/making money/conquering people). Although haunted by drug/sex addiction, Protagonist overcomes this through the power of love/music/money/conquering people. This archetype is prevalent in Walk the Line and may be off-putting to some viewers.

Despite it's predictable plot, Joaquin Phoenix is an acting powerhouse, and Johnny Cash is a music legend. For his part, Phoenix finally exorcises himself from the shadow of his older brother, the immensely talented and tragic River Phoenix. At times in Walk the Line, Phoenix seems to channel the pain he feels about his brother's death. Apart from his birthmark, Phoenix manipulates the audience into believing that he IS Johnny Cash, which is a sign of a fantastic personal performance.

Any fan of Cash's music should have already seen this film and should see a repeat viewing as well. Walk the Line mixes amazing acting with the sounds of country-rock, summed up by four beautiful words: "Hello, I'm Johnny Cash."

-reviewed by Tony DalPra

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