Edward Scissorhands: A

Taken as a trashy suburban satire, "Edward Scissorhands" loses much of its power.

In "Suburbia" there lies endless rows of pastel colored houses that all seem to lie under the formidable shadow of the creepy mansion-on-the-hill. No one will venture up to that creepy abode, no one that is except the local Avon Lady (Diane Wiest). Once there, to sell her product, she finds a boy who has siccsors for hands crouched up in the attic surrounded by pictures and newsclippings about other children with deformities. The best shot of the movie is when the camera roams over the photos and alights on one in particular for just a second: baby Jesus. The Avon Lady is so enthralled with Edward (Johnny Depp) that she decides to take him home, to show him Suburbia. Is all of this satirical? Yes. Is it the point of the movie? No.

As Edward roams around Suburbia he discovers his true passion: using his scissors to shape topiary, dogs, hair, anything. He's found that he can create and not just destroy and the most joyous moment is when Suburbia is right beside him with that idea. Soon however, Edward has been tricked and Suburbia turns against him. Edward doesn't know how to play to the ever changing tides of pop culture that the masses represent and is drowned by them. When Edward runs off Kim (Winona Ryder), his crush who tricked him, follows. They're final conversation is beating with authentic romantic tragedy. How is it that Tim Burton, working from a script by Caroline Thompson, has got us to care about a whole family of characters in so little time? It's because Burton doesn't wish us to mock the denizes of that candy-colored land, but rather to identify with a boy whose innocence is only a mask for his complacency and lonliness. When viewed this way the movie becomes a delectablely dark comic fable with a soul of tragic yearning. Pure pop fantasia.