Hugo

Included in Brian's Best and Worst of 2011

Almost a year ago, I was leaving a movie theater when somebody handed me a flyer for a free early screening of Hugo; apparently, the title wasn't grabbing enough people, because he made sure to point out that it was Martin Scorsese's first 3D movie.  Obviously, as someone who enjoys the occasional film, I was very excited to see this movie and see how audience feedback would alter the final product.  I went through the proper steps to reserve a spot for me and the Mrs., but on the day of the screening, the location for the film was moved about 40+ miles from a convenient Chicago suburb to Chicago proper during rush hour traffic.  Since reaching the convenient neighborhood location was going to be a close call, this change of venues made it an impossibility.  What does this have to do with anything?  Aside from supporting claims that AMC Theaters is made of jerkfaces, very little.

Hugo's secret screening title: Reverse Flava Flav - the Movie, Boyeeee

Hugo follows the life and times of Hugo Cabret (Asa Butterfield), an orphan in 1930s Paris.  Hugo lives an invisible life inside a train station, where he maintains all the clocks in the building and sleeps in the walls.  How did he get there?  Just about anywhere is better than the Paris orphanage, apparently.  Since nobody knows he exists, Hugo isn't paid for his labors, which means that he has to scavenge and steal to get along.  If he gets caught, or is even suspected of a crime or of being an orphan, the station inspector (Sacha Baron Cohen) will lock him up and send him to the orphanage.

"Be on the lookout for gingers without pupils"

Aside from sustenance, Hugo is also collecting parts to repair a clockwork automaton that Hugo and his late father (Jude Law) found.  Working on the device had been a bonding experience for the two, and Hugo has the unreasonable expectation that the automaton, when fixed, will transmit a message to Hugo from his father.  How he came to that conclusion, I don't know.  But, hey, it's not like Hugo's ever built an automaton that didn't transmit messages from beyond the grave, so I can't totally fault his logic.

Why would you create a robotic pygmy?  Unless...the children are giants...!

To get the parts for the automaton, Hugo pays particular attention to a toy shop in the train station, run by Georges (Ben Kingsley).  Being a grouch, but not an idiot, Georges has noticed the quiet boy loitering near his stand and has made a connection to parts that have gone missing.  Georges threatens to turn Hugo in to the station inspector, unless he works off his presumed debt at the shop.  When he's not working at the shop, Hugo befriends Georges' orphaned goddaughter, Isabelle (Chloë Grace Moretz); she introduces Hugo to the world of books and he introduces her to the world of cinema.  Ultimately, we all know the automaton has to be finished, but the final piece and the automaton's message take the film in a direction you might not expect.  Unless you read a plot synopsis or the book, I mean.

Hugo is a noticeable stylistic departure for director Martin Scorsese for many reasons, but I'm specifically referring to it not being propelled by a particular actor's performance.  The two leads are some of the better child actors around right now, but they don't steal the show.

They still look smug, though

Asa Butterfield is believable in both his childishness and his stubborn determination; I was also impressed by how well he managed the demanding emotional scenes.   Chloë Grace Moretz continues her surprisingly respectable filmography here (she hasn't been in anything too embarrassing for her age, except Big Momma's House 2), although I was slightly irritated by her voice in this film.  I don't know if it was an accent or an affectation, but she was good aside from that.  The supporting cast is noteworthy, although few got the chance to shine.  Ben Kingsley, as the top-billed actor, was predictably good; Kingsley doesn't always act in good movies, but pairing him with a great director makes for good stuff.  I like seeing characters balance prickishness and warmth, and that's what Kingsley delivered here.  I was far less impressed with Sacha Baron Cohen; I get that this is a children's movie and not a Scorsese gangster pick, but I felt that Cohen's physical comedy was clumsy and...well, unfunny.  I was okay with the rest of the supporting cast, though.  Helen McCrory may be far too young to play Kingsley's wife, but her makeup was tastefully done. 

You look about 70, your wife is about 40...nice job, man

Ray Winstone, an excellent film ne'er-do-well, was suitably nasty as an uncaring alcoholic.  Jude Law was charming and loving as Hugo's father.  Christopher Lee shows up to be friendly (in a creepy way).  Meanwhile, Emily Mortimer filled out the station inspector's subplot and Harry Potter alums Frances de la Tour and Richard Griffiths had their own romantic subplot.

The thing about Hugo that struck me as odd was how inconsequential the hero was to so many parts of the plot.  When the film began I thought it was obvious that he would try to help de la Tour and Griffiths overcome their dog-related problems and find love.  At the very least, I thought he would have a hand in the station inspector falling in love, which would inevitably lead to the inspector giving him a free pass when Hugo was inevitably caught.  It might have been a tad predictable, but that never hurt Amelie, did it?  And yet, none of that actually happened in Hugo.  The main character takes no action in these subplots, and they do not appear to affect him in any way that fits the film's theme.  So why are they included?  I don't have that answer.

Sadly, it doesn't require a heart-shaped key

Of course, it is not just the subplots that have little to do with Hugo and his quest to reconnect with his dead father.  The main plot veers off from a touching --- if ill-advised --- quest of a young boy trying to (essentially) make the impossible happen (reconstruct the automaton) so something even less possible (his father communicating to him from beyond) could happen and winds up finishing with a touching story about the importance of film preservation.  As someone who enjoys many films made before my birth, I understand and appreciate film preservation; I would pay through the nose for a good copy of His Girl Friday and have been contemplating upgrading my awful copy of Charade for its Criterion Collection version.  That does not mean that this is necessarily the right venue for a treatise on film preservation. 

But who am I to refuse that adorable mustache?

Despite my reservations, Hugo is a very well-directed and -acted film.  Big surprise, right?  Hugo gained some attention for being Martin Scorsese's first 3D film, so I suppose I should examine how well he did in this new/1950s format.  The short answer is "good."  There are not a lot of movies that make good use of 3D.  For every Avatar, there are at least six Clash of the Titans.  Thankfully, this is a movie that uses 3D for depth, rather than for machetes stabbing the audience.  The 3D isn't essential, but it looks good and makes some of the clock scenes far more interesting than they would have been otherwise.  Outside of the 3D, Scorsese did a great job.  It has been a long time since he has made a risky movie (in my opinion, I would say Kundun was his last big risk), but adapting a children's book was fairly ballsy for a man known more for elevating Joe Pesci than his last family-friendly outing, the music video for Michael Jackson's "Bad."


Am I the only one who forgot about the keyboard solo in this song?  I love call-and-response as much as the next guy, but  how does Wesley Snipes not shoot MJ in the face here?  Still, it is a pleasure to see a master director at work.  He manages to blend conventional premises with the source material and winds up with a story that is surprisingly surprising and not nearly as conventional as it initially seems.  Most importantly, though, Scorsese succeeds in his ultimate mission; I have to admit that, after seeing this film, I went home and quickly researched Georges Méliès (who directed an astonishing 555 movie shorts in less than twenty years) and was suitably impressed by what I saw.  If that is not the ultimate goal of Hugo, I don't know what is.

Is Hugo a great film, worthy of comparison to Scorsese's best work?  Definitely not.  It absolutely is, though, adorable and heart-warming.  This is a nostalgic movie, disguised as something that kids might want to see, and it is disguised well.  Is Hugo manipulative?  Oh, lord, yes.  Thankfully, it doesn't leave you feeling dirty, like Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close.  It is not a whole lot better than that film, though, for similar reasons.  It barely made it into my top ten of last year, but it is still worth watching, especially if you have a fondness for older films.  This may not make you want to watch silent movies, but it is at least as effective as The Artist.

My first exposure to Georges Méliès was this music video from Smashing Pumpkins.  I don't know what made Billy Corgan choose this as a theme for his video, but it is still pretty cool.

Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides

I don't know your feelings about the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise, but I enjoyed the first film and found the second and third ones to be nigh-unwatchable.  The prospects of this, the fourth film in the series, being good are obviously slim, but I have a soft spot for Johnny Depp and I don't usually hold summer blockbusters to terribly high standards; all I ask for is that this be a fun watch.

For those familiar with the other movies, your knowledge will do you no good in this movie --- it requires absolutely no previous knowledge of these characters.  And that's a good thing.  There are only three returning characters (Jack Sparrow, Barbossa, and Gibbs), as the writers wisely decided to leave Orlando Bloom, Keira Knightley, Bill Nighy and the rest bobbing somewhere else for a change.  That's the good news.  The bad news is that Jack Sparrow --- who worked extremely well as a supporting character, but lost his appeal as he got more and more screen time --- is the main character in this movie.

Two characters, one wardrobe.

Here's the nuts and bolts of the plot.  A man, who by all rights should be dead, is caught in the fishing net of some Spaniards.  He apparently has information as to the whereabouts of the Fountain of Youth.  And the race is on!  I hope you didn't grow attached to that informative sailor, because he never shows up again.  The Spanish immediately set sail and, somehow, the British happen to be preparing an expedition as well.  And, as coincidence would have it, so is Blackbeard (Ian McShane) and his daughter, Angela (Penelope Cruz).  AND Captain Jack Sparrow (Johnny Depp) has been searching for the Fountain in his free time, too.  Since he has a map to the Fountain (which has apparently done him no good so far), Jack is targeted by the British and the other pirates.  The Spanish apparently either don't know about Jack, or saw At World's End and want nothing to do with him.  Since this is a pirate movie, Jack ends up with the pirate team, although his allegiances are nothing if not fluid.  There are a few things that have to be collected to reach the Fountain (it's over two hours long, you know), like a mermaid's tear and some cups, but that's the gist of the plot.

While the plot is somewhat less convoluted this time out, the acting hasn't noticeably improved since Part Three.  Johnny Depp still has all his fey mannerisms, but the character of Jack Sparrow loses his novelty in the spotlight.  The dialogue isn't great, so Depp doesn't have a whole lot to make his character seem fresh, likable or particularly funny.  Penelope Cruz is about as good as you might expect her to be in an English-speaking role; she's very pretty, but her acting is wooden.  There is a romantic subplot between her character and Depp's, but it never actually implies much passion and, therefore, is not very convincing. 

Sparrow and Blackbeard trading beard-braiding tips.

I thought Ian McShane did a pretty decent job as the evil Blackbeard, but his dialogue was also lacking punch.  Sure, McShane seemed evil, but that's not a stretch for him --- he could do that while riding a unicorn that craps rainbows and candy.  And, yes, I get that this series has always had a bit of the supernatural in it, but I didn't really need Blackbeard to be scary because he has super-pirate-ship powers.  That's just kind of lame and completely (although thankfully and hilariously) unexplained.  Geoffrey Rush returns as Captain Barbossa, for reasons I am not entirely clear on. 

"I feel pretty and witty and wise...!"

He does have a peg leg (filled with booze!) in this movie, which is a first (I think) for this series.  As good as Rush was in the first film, he is nowhere near as sinister this time around.  I like the idea of a pirate being accepted by the British Navy (it makes historical sense, too), but that wasn't enough to justify his inclusion in a fourth movie in the series.  Stephen Graham (Snatch, Gangs of New York) takes up the semi-moronic pirate role that was vacated by...well, many cast members from the last movie.  I liked him just fine, but he bounced between being idiotic and surprisingly swashbuckling at the drop of a (pirate) hat.  Kevin McNally returns as Sparrow's buddy, Gibbs, and was as likable in his small part as he usually is.  This film also introduces a boring (but thankfully shirtless, am I right, ladies?) Bible-thumper (Sam Claflin, in his feature film debut), a possibly not man-eating mermaid (Astrid Berges-Frisbey), a definitely man-eating mermaid (Gemma Ward), and a dashing but underused Oscar Jaenada (from The Losers).  Keith Richards makes a cameo appearance, as does Harry Potter's mean uncle, Richard Griffiths.  The acting's not bad, but the new additions aren't enough to balance out the predictable hijinks of the returning characters.

Director Rob Marshall is more famous for musicals than he is action/adventure movies, but I thought that his music video-esque editing made sense for a good portion of this film.  Of course, since I wasn't a fan of the acting, I can't be a huge fan of Marshall's direction.  Directors need to direct their talent, you know.  The film looked pretty good, though, with a lot of sweeping vistas and gorgeous scenes.  Marshall opted for more subtle use of CGI in this film (no octopus-faced villains here), which I appreciated.  While there is an awful lot of swashbuckling going on in this film, I wasn't too impressed by it.  Marshall didn't do a great job putting those fight scenes on camera in an exciting way.  He did do a good job with Jack Sparrow's predictably elaborate and goofy escape attempts, though.  These scenes were sometimes eye-roll-worthy, but I think they still looked pretty good.

I definitely appreciated some of the choices made in this movie, even if they didn't lead to cinematic greatness.  I like that the plot was taken from the book On Stranger Tides, instead of completely manufactured; I hated the plot of the last two films and thought that there were some good ideas in this story, even if they weren't executed very well.  I thought the mermaids were an interesting concept that was almost done well; they were all sexy and deadly, but I hated that every pirate and sailor knew about them and none dismissed mermaids as fiction.  I liked that the relationship between the captured mermaid and the Bible guy was kept as a very supporting plot; I didn't care about them at all, so having their story progress quickly was a blessing.  And how about the use of voodoo zombies?  That was a pretty cool idea.

Sadly, those quasi-compliments can't save this movie.  Jack Sparrow is getting tiresome, despite the best efforts of Disney's writers --- what makes him work in the first film is how dangerous and evil the audience thinks he can be, and the humor comes from him undercutting that malice.  By now, Sparrow is seen as a pretty nice guy and is just a clever/silly Keith Richards impersonator here.  The movie felt long, largely because the fist half was pretty boring.  The second half picked up quite a bit by shifting its focus frequently between the many subplots, but the first half just dragged as everything was set up.  I hated hated hated the use of the Spanish in this movie; they play a very important part (theoretically) and are barely used.  I don't understand how Penelope Cruz's character could be a passionate pirate-lover, a wannabe nun, and a swashbuckling sailor, and yet have none of that manifest itself onscreen.  And why on the hell is Juan Ponce de Leon's ship stuck in the side of a mountain?  And wasn't he looking for the Fountain of Youth in Florida?  Where exactly are the mountains of Florida?  Those last two issues could have been nipped in the bud with any explanation whatsoever, but this movie doesn't like to bother with details like that.

I don't mind that this movie is trying to be a brain-dead romp, but I do mind that I wasn't entertained by it.  It came close on many occasions, but ultimately fell short.  Still, shockingly, it is clearly the second-best Pirates of the Caribbean.

Gorky Park

When I find out that a film is set in Russia, especially Soviet Russia, I can immediately make a few assumptions.  First, it is not a comedy.  I know, I know...Soviet Russia was famous for their comedy, but all their jokes end with punching Yakov Smirnoff in the face.  You can't make more than (maybe) one movie like that, so any film set in Soviet Russia is going to be a drama.

Even his fist wants to hit him.

My second assumption is that the story will involve secrecy and deception.  That's just how it is.  When you're in a country that monitors its own people, Big Brother-style, that's going to play a part in the movie.  I had never heard of Gorky Park before watching it, but it has an okay cast for the period and didn't sound like a propaganda piece, so I thought I would give it a shot.

Moscow police officer Arkady Renko (William Hurt) is called to a crime scene in Gorky Park, which is kind of like Moscow's Central Park (I think...there's ice skating, anyway).  Three murder victims have been found, all shot dead in the chest and mouth, and all three are missing their faces and fingers.  That fits the description of KGB-type killings, where they just make people disappear; Renko knows this and assumes that the KGB will take the investigation away from him at the first opportunity, to "investigate" it themselves.  The KGB does show up with suspicious immediacy, but they let Renko keep the case for some reason.

With shattered teeth and no fingerprints, Renko enlists the aid of a professor (Emperor Palpatine Ian McDiarmid) to reconstruct their faces.  While he's waiting for the prof to slowly finish his work, Renko does his best to investigate the case.  He really doesn't want to, because he knows damn well that if he implicates the KGB in a murder, he will likely end up without fingers or a face, too.  His Chief Inspector (Ian Bannen) won't take him off the case, though; in fact, he promises to protect Renko's back, no matter what he finds.  While that is probably meant to be reassuring, it raises the hairs on the back of Renko's neck.  William Hurt may not have been in Lost in Space for another fifteen years, but he clearly heard the "Danger Will Robinson!" warning.

In the due course of his investigation, Renko meets an American detective (Brian Dennehy), who is in town to investigate his brother's recent disappearance.  The two warily agree to share some knowledge, which leads Renko to a tentative ID on the victims, which leads him to a beautiful Russian woman (Joanna Pacula) and an American sable fur importer (Lee Marvin).  The deeper Renko digs, the more he finds out about people in high places.  And in Soviet Russia, knowing too much about important people is hazardous to your health.  Maybe it's because he is devoted to his job, or maybe it's because he's falling in love with the girl, but Renko puts it all on the line to solve the case.  All he needs to get all the pieces to fall into place are some identities for his victims, so he can figure out why they were killed...

"Now witness the power of this fully armed and operational reconstructed face!"

This is a police procedural, so the acting is somewhat limited.  Just as we don't ooh and ahh over Sam Waterston or Marg Helgenberger as actors, there's nothing to see here, people, move along.  William Hurt is fairly reserved and emotionally detached for most of the film.  And that's appropriate for his character, really.  Brian Dennehy turns in yet another performance where he is in a position of power, despite having obviously poor decision making skills.  This is a fairly subdued performance from Dennehy, so he's fairly likable.  Michael Elphick plays the none-too-bright partner to Renko, and he's about as good as the role requires.  Lee Marvin probably does the least acting out of anyone in the cast; he basically just croaks out his lines and you instinctively know that he's up to no good.  I like Lee Marvin, and his presence here is welcome, but this wasn't much of a stretch for his talents.  The only actor who actually emoted much in this film was Joanna Pacula, and she does a pretty good job portraying someone who distrusts authority (with good reason), but needs to go against her instincts to survive.  The rest of the supporting cast (including a brief appearance by Richard Griffiths) is fine, with most everyone playing their roles simply and efficiently.  But that's just my Western attitude imposing value on Russian acting.  After all, in America, actors play roles; in Soviet Russia, roles play you.  Wait...what?

James Horner's score is worth mentioning.  I'm no music major (my mother assumes from my childhood singing that I am tone deaf), but Horner did a great job amplifying the "something's wrong" feeling of the film.  He used pretty standard musical score instruments, like strings, horns and percussion, but they were all discordant.  It was an interesting way to supplement the story.

Michael Apted directed Gorky Park with what would have seemed like efficiency, if the film had been less than two hours.  His focus was on the story, for the most part, and the story was told well enough.  I appreciate his choice to not have the actors assume Russian accents (not everyone can pull off a Russian accent like Harrison Ford), although it makes the scene where Brian Dennehy is identified as an American by his voice seem a little silly.  I wish Apted had put a little more flair into this movie, though.  Procedurals are, by their nature, pretty cut-and-dry.  This didn't feel like a mystery or a conspiracy, but like an especially long episode of Law and Order: Moscow.  If Apted had played with the camera a little more, used some symbolism, or used some interesting establishing shots of Moscow every so often, this movie might feel like it is more than a police procedural.

Maybe that is my problem.  I have seen so many police procedurals on American television that a film version just seems like overkill.  The case doesn't seem that complicated when you watch it, and there is absolutely no question that Lee Marvin is a bad guy, so it's not like viewers are going to be surprised much by the story.  Of course, the film is spiced up a little bit by having the eternally middle-aged William Hurt have a relationship with a Russian beauty, but even that is predictable.  Of course the cop is going to fall for the beautiful witness, and of course the Russian woman in an American movie is going to be gorgeous, because all Russian women in American movies are gorgeous.  It's not like that in real life, though; all those years of putting vodka in their cereal catches up with them eventually.

Russian beauty, age 31

But I digress.  This movie is made pretty well, and it certainly fits within the boundaries of your standard police procedural.  In doing so, however, it bored me.  The story was too predictable and the format was too familiar to me.  It's not a bad film, but I can see more concise versions of it on any Law and Order rerun.

And, because we all know that the Russians aren't funny, here are some jokes about Russia made by President Reagan.

Sleepy Hollow

The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, for those that haven't read it, is not necessarily what I would call "ready for the big screen."  In the story, Ichabod Crane, while the most notable character, is definitely not a hero.  He is a superstitious, brown-nosing teacher that competes for the hand of Katrina Van Tassel until he is chased by the Headless Horseman and leaves town.  With Crane gone, Katrina marries the rival for her affections, Brom Van Brunt.  The story implies that Van Brumt dressed as the Horseman to scare Crane away.  So, let's recap: the main character is superstitious (read: foolish) and is outwitted.  It turns out that the Headless Horseman is just a myth, and it was used by a clever man to remove a romantic rival.  Definitely not something that would translate well into a movie, which explains why there hadn't been a film adaptation of the tale since the 1920s.

All it took was Tim Burton and Johnny Depp to remake this story for modern times.  Sleepy Hollow features Depp in the role of Ichabod Crane, a New York City constable, dedicated to the new-fangled methods of scientific investigation (autopsies, finger-printing, etc).  Crane has annoyed his superiors with his know-it-all attitude for some time, so he is dispatched to the far-off town of Sleepy Hollow, which has had a rash of murders.  When he arrives, Crane is informed by the townsfolk that the killer's identity is known; it is the Headless Horseman, the spirit of a bloodthirsty Hessian mercenary, who lost his head in death.  Since the killer was known, Crane declared "Case closed!" and returned to New York City.  No, not really.  Crane, obviously, doesn't believe that a headless creature from beyond the grave is murdering the townsfolk and investigates.  Eventually, he finds out that there IS a headless creature from beyond the grave murdering the townsfolk.  That wasn't a spoiler.  Along the way, Crane develops a fairly innocent romance with Katrina Van Tassel (Christina Ricci), daughter to the most powerful man in town.  He also uncovers a conspiracy that ties the victims together and begins to explain why the Horseman is terrorizing the town and how he chooses his victims.

Depp makes some interesting acting choices in this role.  He plays Crane as decidedly effeminate; aside from some little half-yelps he gives from time to time, he is prone to hiding behind women and children when he is frightened.  That's a pretty ballsy choice for a Hollywood lead.  While this isn't one of Depp's typical weirdo roles, he comes off as intelligent and it's fun to see him squirm when he sees blood.  It's not his deepest role, but he is quirky and shows development as the film progresses (plus, Depp is awesome).  As Katrina, Christina Ricci attempts to make her character seem like an innocent babe.  In the attempt, Ricci goes past "innocent" and lands somewhere in the range of "infantile" or "simple-minded."  This wouldn't be bad, but she shows almost no emotional range --- her voice doesn't change whether she is happy or upset with Ichabod.  Ricci's uncharacteristic performance doesn't hurt the overall film, but it is kind of annoying.  She went from rags to riches and she doesn't have even a little bitterness or sarcasm? 

The other actors turn in solid supporting performances.  Casper Van Dien plays Brom, and (like in the story) he poses as the Horseman to scare Ichabod.  Van Dien is not a very talented actor, but he lends some credibility to the only real action scene in the film, so I guess that was decent casting.  Christopher Lee and Martin Landau make brief cameos (Landau was uncredited in his role) that don't add much, but cameos are really only there for the fans and are effective in that regard.  Jeffrey Jones, Richard Giffiths, Michael Gambon, and Michael Gough all do decently with their supporting roles as town elders and co-conspirators.  As for the supporting ladies, Lisa Marie does what you might expect from her, providing little (or, in this case, no) dialogue and ample cleavage.  Miranda Richardson has a good time cackling toward the end and does a pretty good job of portraying crazy.  The best supporting role, though, belongs to Christopher Walken as the Headless Horseman.  It's not that he does much, but Walken is one of the best actors for a bit role you can imagine.  With Tim Burton's direction, the Horseman comes off as genuinely creepy, evil and malevolent.

The draw to this movie is not the story (There's a Headless Horseman?  What a twist!) or the acting, but Burton's vision.  While this is not the most imaginative of his movies, it still has his unmistakable feel.  As a director, Tim Burton focuses less on the actor's performances and more on the overall feel of the movie.  This movie won an Oscar for Art Direction and was nominated for costumes and cinematography, and after watching this again, I have to say that I'm not surprised.  The costumes are good (read: colonial-looking), the town is better (authentically colonial, despite being built for the film), and the camera work is the best you will find in a horror movie since The Shining.  While there is a fair amount of blood (brilliantly crimson blood, at that), the movie isn't very gory for a film that features several beheadings.

This adaptation of the classic tale does deviate greatly from the original story, but I think these changes were chosen well.  The major element that everyone remembers from the original story (the Horseman) was just a guy in a costume; here, he becomes bigger than life --- or death.  Making Crane a detective instead of a teacher helps make him a more formidable opponent.  Introducing a conspiracy to the plot adds a mystery that, while not necessary, helps draw the story out long enough to be satisfying.  While I don't imagine Washington Irving's rabid fanbase made a big furor over these changes, they were key to allowing this to go beyond the confines of the short story and expand as a feature film.  Kudos to Burton for seeing the horror in this quaint tale of Americana.