Review: Dark Shadows

Grade: C

My father is no fan of vampires. Sure, he enjoys the occasional Angel rerun or a late Saturday afternoon showing of Blade on TNT, but generally he’s pretty resistant to the fangers. Ironically, one his favorite TV shows--one he talked about more than any other--was Dark Shadows.

Interestingly, for all the talking my father did about Dark Shadows, he was never all that forthcoming with details. From the little he told me, it was essentially a cheesy soap opera with vampires. And that is exactly what Tim Burton and his cadre of collaborators deliver with a big screen adaptation of the series that is as plodding and tepid as it is out and out weird.

Johnny Depp mixes a quarter of Ichabod Crane with half of Sweeney Todd and another fourth of Captain Jack to play 200-year old vampire Barnabas Collins. Cursed with vampirism by former mistress and vengeful witch Angelique Brouchard (Eva Green) in the latter half of the 18th century, Barnabas awakens in the year 1972 to find his family’s beloved manor, Collinwood, in a state of disrepair. Collinwood is now under the care of Barnabas’ descendant, the steely, unflappable Elizabeth Collins Stoddard (Michelle Pfeifer), and houses the few remaining members of the Collins family, including Elizabeth’s moody daughter Carolyn (Chloe Moretz); her vapid widowed brother Roger (Johnny Lee Miller); and his haunted son, David (Gulliver McGrath). Just as the Collins are welcoming a new governess for David, Victoria Winters (Bella Heathcote)--clearly the doppelgänger of Barnabas’ true love, Josette--Barnabas is awakened from his torpor, only to find that the witch who cursed him has managed to cheat death and is threatening to put the Collins family seafood canning business, and Barnabas, out to pasture.

Dark Shadows is easily one of Tim Burton’s most gratuitous exercises in self-indulgence. Granted, Burton has always been self-indulgent, but he usually does so without alienating large swaths of the viewing audience. But, with his past few films, Burton has increasingly pushed mainstream audiences away and aimed his sights squarely on the Hot Topic crowd. With Dark Shadows, he seems to have completely abandoned hope of connecting with casual viewers and opted to make a movie for himself and his cohorts despite the film’s positioning as a mainstream summer release. He burdens Shadows with a languid pace, flimsy plot, and a soft focus aesthetic that makes everything far colder than the cheap jokes would imply. By the time Dark Shadows finally slogs it way to its sluggish climax, even the most patient viewers will be begging for an exit, a response that could have been avoided if Burton simply increased the pace and heightened the stakes of the conflict.

Burton may shoulder most of the blame for Dark Shadows, but his collection of repertory players don’t exactly help. Johnny Depp carries the film mostly on his requisite charm and goodwill from his past work. Since much of his performance as Barnabas is informed by his recent big screen outings as off-the-wall Englishmen like Captain Jack and Sweeney Todd, it’s hard to fault him for giving the audiences what they seem to want, but it would be nice to see him switch up his approach in the way he did with his work from the late 90s to early 00s. Besides Depp, Eva Green is the only member of the cast who is bringing something resembling her A game to the table. Green looks to be having more fun as the wacky, horny, palefaced Angelique, in a turn reminiscent of Robert Zemeckis’ Burton-esque Death Becomes Her, than any of the other members of the cast. Michelle Pfeiffer spends 90% of the movie keeping her eyes from rolling out of her head at the insanity. The former Hit-Girl, Chloe Moretz, also seems to be fighting off a case of exasperation, but unlike Pfeiffer, her eye-rolling is in character. As usual, Helena Bonham Carter shows up with her typical cat-lady antics, this time playing a alcoholic shrink-in-residence for David Collins, played with an admirable lack of precociousness by Gulliver McGrath. Jackie Earle Haley is also on hand, barely registering as Barnabas’ Renfield, while newbie Bella Heathcoate spends more time staring with dead eyes than emoting.

Even without Burton’s indulgences or the sluggishness of the proceedings, Dark Shadows would have been a risky proposition. The source material is practically ancient to the target demo, and the flick itself is not overly offensive, but it does little to  stand out amidst other followers to the Twilight trend, despite preceding Twilight by almost 40 years. This may have worked as a long-form TV series, where its camp and potential for complexity would have fared far better, but as a film too much precious time is wasted on indulging the children of the night and not enough on crafting a compelling narrative.

The Yin and Yang of It

Yang: Depp does his thing while Green bring her A (ish) game. Burton’s cold, creepy aesthetic is a perfect fit for the material.

Yin: Plodding pacing and general weirdness abound, as per usual for a Burton film. Most of the cast is either ingloriously over-the-top or terribly disconnected, with no in-between.

In-Between: Barnabas Collins circa 1972 and Michael Jackson circa 2009. Not much of a difference.