The Only Edward I’ll Ever Love Has Scissors For Hands
INTRO
Humanity has truly come a long way – built cities, formed countries and languages, invented and destroyed. Yet there are timeless issues which we have not mastered to address – and dealing with otherness in the society is certainly one of them. The topic has been approached by many filmmakers, but I’d like to focus this paper on Tim Burton’s Edward Scissorhands (1990) - a film which also reflects on director’s personal experiences growing up in Burbank, California and not being able to find a sense of belonging in its suburban community. It is a dark modern day fairy-tale telling a story of a misperceived individual Edward who has scissors for hands thus criticizing social conformity and its inability to accept otherness.
WHERE DO YOU COME FROM?
Edward’s alienation becomes evident instantly. He comes from a dark mansion on top of the hill where his scientist-father had died before completing his creation with regular hands. We do not know how long Edward has been observing the town and neither do we know if he ever wanted to escape isolation, but Peg’s arrival gives him a chance to become a part of community for the first time. Consequently, film’s director Tim Burton creates an illusion of two contrasting worlds through films colourful imagery and his Gothic protagonist which spawn stronger atmosphere than meaningless action or long dialogues. As argued by Manuel Aguirre, ‘One of the identifying features of the continually shifting definition of the Gothic is the fascination with thresholds and boundaries, the places where two worlds and two kinds of experience meet. One of the key ways this idea is explored in Gothic narratives is through placing ‘ordinary people in “extraordinary positions (in Bloom, 2007:235)”’. For that reason much of film’s meaning is conveyed through Burton’s use of colours, camera angles, symbolic codes and material’s intertextuality.
THAT OTHERNESS OF YOURS
First of all, a panning aerial shot reveals a suburban location where families reside in evenly distanced pastel-colour houses and live seemingly perfect lives. Their cars are equally colourful, and so are their accessories and even the food they eat; men go to work while women handle household activities and pamper themselves. The picturesque town is a place where people of the same social class gather and know each other...or do they, really? It is a 1950’s suburban existence which, despite its colourful exterior, is rather blank, unstable and unwilling to welcome change in its core. Although younger generation is seen as more rebellious in their appearance (wearing T-shirts and jeans) and behaviour, it still comforts to the same set of values without questioning those. Edward’s arrival thus interrupts and confronts this false utopian narrative, causing interest and excitement as soon as Peg’s car pulls in town. Overwhelmed neighbours soon invite themselves for a traditional barbecue and having met Edward call him “so different “and “mysterious”, and yet he is mutely observed as the Other and therefore a threat. Moreover, Edward comes across as pale, clumsy and rather gothic, hence not conforming to the certain image his new-found friends find normal. Giving the impression of acceptance towards the newcomer they start calling him Eddy, change his clothes and introduce their ethics, emphasizing on the “nice thing to do” and the “correct thing to do”. Ironically, it is Avon lady Peg Boggs who seemed as the most caring and human resident of the society proclaiming: “it’s all about blending in” whilst trying to conceal Edward’s facial scars. And it is, indeed, either blending in or eternal exile from the suburb where the interior is much darker and frostier than what its domestic outlook suggests at first glance. Burton’s outlandish character hence proves that invaders are not always extraterrestrial while, in fact, Edward is simply a minority and therefore forced to change in order to become part of the mainstream – speaking to those who have ever felt alienated among their own kind.
Edward’s discourse is set to confront the viewer not only through film’s binary oppositions of colour, but also through its symbolic codes: although we know that Edward wasn’t born, his creator thought of humanizing him when noticing a heart-shaped cookie and drawing it towards Ed’s chest. He acts as any other human and bares emotions - either pain, love or anger – yet remains a misunderstood outsider, a villain against his own will and, as Burton explains himself
“[...] a character who wants to touch but can’t, who was both creative and destructive. I think a lot of people feel that way to some degree, because it’s frustrating and sad to feel a certain way but for it not to come through (Burton, in Salisbury, 1995:87)”
In response, Burton creates another contrast and questions humanity of the kinky suburban community whilst highlighting its inability to see clearly through the narrow windows of the town’s indistinguishable residences. Christmas theme is equally symbolic in contest and shows that Edward is cast out community when no one should be alone - abolishing not only the holiday spirit, but also proving that traditions are often cherished until selfishness and personal gain take over. All in all, the society Edward encounters is as fake as the artificial snow decorating its festive rooftops and he runs shredding the given white shirt which was meant to make him look ‘normal’, to be one of them. Subsequently, Burton toys with colours once more – denying white as the colour of purity.
There is enough power in Edward to charge the film with energy and poignancy. The creature with scissors is multi-layered and complex enough as a symbol to invite multiple, and conflicting, interpretations (Bassil-Morozow, 2010:16).
Edward Scissorhands is, after all, not only a fantasy tale about a likeable misfit who happens to have scissors for hands, but also a critique of the American suburban community which often fails to recognize talent and creativity. It masterfully explores destructive power of the social order which has a tendency to evolve into a powerful villain in fighting those who actually require support & encouragement. Subsequently, Burton proves that in a battle of good and evil the side with a white flag is not always representing a hero, whereas the one wearing black is not necessarily a villain. Likewise, otherness in the society might appear somewhat scary and unwelcoming on the outside, but - as seen in Edward Scissorhands – be humble, creative and kind on the inside, and by no means should result in alienation of the individual whose only sin is being different.
Bibliography:
Aguirre, M. (2000) “Narrative Structure, Liminality, Self-Similarity: the Case of Gothic Fiction”, in Bloom, C. (2007) Gothic Horror: A Guide for Students and Readers. Basingstoke: Palgrave/Macmillan
Bassil-Morozow, H. (2010) Tim Burton: The Monster and the Crowd. East Sussex: Routledge
Salisbury, M. (1995) Burton on Burton. London: Faber and Faber Limited
Filmography:
Edward Scissorhands (Burton, 1990, USA)
