In the world of narcissists, Walter Keane is the poster child. Christopher Waltz’s portrayal of him, while seemingly obscenely overdone, is probably spot on. That’s the sort of person it would take, after all, to be that much of a con—and a con who not only convinced those around him of what he wanted, but who also believed himself that he was doing the best thing (for, after all, doesn’t the best con also convince himself?). Ah, but that’s the narcissist: the person who finds just the right low self-esteem, co-dependent persons on whom to prey. It’s painful to watch, especially knowing the story is true. But it’s also so much more than the mere story of Walter and Margaret Keane.
Big Eyes also provides a fantastic social commentary on women, marriage, and the world. Fortunately, we have grown somewhat wiser in matters of gender over the past fifty-plus years. But I don’t think those issues will ever disappear. Even if they do, we should always be reminded of the struggles past, lest they reappear.
The commentary also speaks volumes about art: what it is, can it—and should it—be commercialized, and how its relevance can grow and matter. I think the most important point, though, was that art is personal. What I learned to remember from the movie was that not only is the art personal for the viewer; it too is for the one who creates the art. I know that I knew this, but the reminder resonated.
Amy Adams is spectacular, as she always is. I cannot think of a single role I’ve seen her in where she disappointed. What a gifted artist she is, and what depth she brings to the screen. (I’m sure each performance is very personal to her too; I wonder, then, when roles are played poorly, is it just the actor, or might it be that the actor did not personalize the art enough?)
I read after seeing the show that the writers actually toned down the courtroom scenes from the real story in attempts to make them more believable. Yes, Walter Keane was that far afield from reality; to believe his tale, one must make it less outrageous. Even still, it made for fantastic cinema.