Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children Reveals Ms. Burton’s Borderline Personality Disorder
Or Is Miss Peregrine A Metaphor For Tim Burton’s Mothers Munchausen Syndrome?
I have pretty much given up on movies, they are an incredible waste of time— rowing your boat to them, putting a quarter in side of them, is time better spent ignoring people on the sidewalk trying to get you to save whales that don’t need savings accounts, or smoking cigarettes in an old age home because hey its the last stop on the bus line and George Burns lived to 126 so why not. Instead I watch movie trailers, but this time I actually watched the entirety of Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children, because I had a bag of mini Twix, a bagel w/ cream cheese, and 90 minutes to murder with a pitchfork.
Have you ever asked yourself why Tim Burton’s muses all look so similar? Eva Green and Helena Bonham Carter, most def/ fit into the same genre.
The answer has to be in Burton, himself — does he not have wild jet black hair, a gaunt face and the general posture of a weirdo?
Indeed he does — Hello Freud.
If we have learned any lessons from master Andrei Tarkovsky, it is that filmmakers are making the same film over and over again. Where Tarkovsky differed from the rest of the auteur bunch, was that he understood, and integrated the same fields, same childhood pets, into the tapestry of his brilliant films.
Burton has been playing the same game, whether consciously or subconsciously, with the female leads in his movies.
Miss Peregrine is Burton’s mom and she is not letting little Tim out of the house, its dangerous out there and father left us a long time ago, and there is a black man that will eat your eyes…and did you leave the stove on?
It is very possible that there is actually nothing peculiar about Miss Peregrine’s children, except for the fact that she has been slowly poisoning them for a decade in a “loop” of — “you kids will always need me.” (“because don’t forget that black man is still out there, so get in the loop and stop asking questions.”)
Basically Miss Peregrine tells us that Tim Burton’s mom was in that Steven King book where Richard Bachman was too afraid to leave his bedroom so he gets Kathy Bates to get into some BBW BDSM with him. It was called Fifty Shades Of Bates? Or was that Psycho? Eh, whose to say?
So back to Burton and his love for getting hugged by his mom, who is hugging him way too much, not in a sexual way, because in a sexual way would almost be healthier, honestly.
Miss Peregrine is trying to hug little Tim to death because she hates him as a representative of a 1940’s society that does not allow her to be anything but a mom when she could probably be a better business(wo)man than her brother — the brother that her parents paid his way through school while she got lessons on cooking. So Miss Peregrine just keeps hugging because she is the one really wearing gravity boots.
And Miss Peregrine spends the whole movie nostalgic for the child that got away — the movie ending with his grandson willing submitting himself to this crazy woman’s world, now he will always be peculiar getting slowly poisoned by this bird in a bird cage — hello Ibsen’s Dollhouse. I see what you are doing there Tim Burton.
In conclusion this is the best Tim Burton movie since he made that remake of Checkov’s The Seagull for NBC Thursday night must see TV…What’s that, instead of cool shit made by talented people, we have laugh tracks of Modern Family, Oh.
If you believe in my theory, that Miss Peregrine’s is all about Tim Burton’s mother poisoning him and guilt tripping him for leaving the house, so instead of going outside he built a world of weird toys, which lead him to want to become an animator of dolls, and thus was responsible for his choice of becoming a filmmaker in the style of the Brothers Quay, then there is probably something wrong with you. But you will like the movie because it will remind you of the mother that kept you locked in the attic.
If you don’t, then its some pretty standard magical kids bullshit and Tim Burton would be happy to exchange childhoods with you.