The film stars Albert Finney, Billy Crudup, Ewan McGregor (doing a quite respectable Southern accent, much to my surprise), and Jessica Lange, all of whom I respect as actors, and so I figured that I would most likely enjoy the film. Plus, you gotta love Tim Burton. Plus, the film's about storytelling, focusing on the conflict between a pragmatic son and his lack of patience with his fanciful father, who is an unabashed teller of tall tales (which tendency of course ties in with the film's title). And I love a good story about storytelling.
So, anyway, I expected to like the movie. I didn't expect to like it this much, though. I didn't expect to laugh so many times, or to leave the theatre with my face and neck still wet with tears. I found the film really quite extraordinary in its gradual building of emotional weight as well as its storytelling methods and basic themes.
The plot itself combines 's sense of family history and the struggle between fathers and sons (also explored in the film Lone Star), 's sense of storytelling and mythology, 's sense of fantasy and the ever-shiftingly reciprocal relationship between story and storyteller, 's sense of the supernatural and boyhood adventure, and the film Stand By Me's sense of storytelling and humor.
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Thus spake Kimberly: The movie is darn good.