How They Think: The Dark Whimsy Of Tim Burton.
Inside the mind of one of the world’s most enigmatic creatives.
“How They Think” is a new recurring feature in which we get into the heads of some of the world’s most talented creators. As the sweaty guy in the amber mine said in “Jurassic Park”, I’m a digger. Only in my case, instead of mosquito DNA, what I dig for are clues to what makes creative minds do what they do. My hope is that we can all learn something we didn’t know before.
If you were any other kid in Burbank, California, you were out in the streets doing what every kid in America was doing that night. Skulking around the neighborhood, pillowcases laden with candy, dressed up like ghosts and goblins and fairy princesses and whatever other recycled cliches they could think of. That’s what kids did on Halloween.
Unless the kid was Tim Burton.
Not that Tim had something against Halloween. Far from it. But Tim was different, preferring to spend the night making a disturbing scarecrow or watching Vincent Price terrorize his victims as they howled in terror, the infernal pendulum, it’s knife-edge swinging back and forth, gradually dropping lower and lower.
Growing up in Burbank, Burton often felt out of place, which drove him to retreat into his imagination, sparking his fascination with the macabre, something that years later would become a hallmark of Tim’s work, stories of misunderstood outsiders like Jack Skellington and Edward Scissorhands. Like Tim.
Understanding Burton’s creative process is like stepping into one of his surreal worlds, where the boundaries between the eerie and the endearing forever blur. Not the same old highway to success, by any stretch.
Before a script is ever written, Burton sketches. Weird characters. Doodles in a sketchbook. But these are no simple scribblings. In Tim’s case, they become the blueprint for the entire film. His colors tend to be muted, enhancing the gothic atmosphere of his movies. Bright colors are not the norm but he’ll go with them if they in some way highlight the fantastical elements of his story.
While Burton’s vision is immutable, he puts a high value on collaboration, though his creative partners rarely change. Danny Elfman has scored most of Burton’s films. Actors like Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter have become recurring figures. It creates a kind of shorthand for a more fluid and cohesive creative process.
Burton has never been one to turn from imperfection. His openness to the unexpected is evident in his approach to stop-motion animation, where even the slightest imperfections in the movements of characters add to their charm. This embrace of the imperfect also extends to the themes of his films, where characters often find beauty and acceptance in their flaws.
These are films that walk the line between darkness and light, often exploring themes of death, isolation, and the grotesque, all the while maintaining a sense of playfulness.
This balance is a key component of his creative process. He draws inspiration from a wide range of sources, from German Expressionist cinema to pop culture, combining them in ways that are both familiar and startlingly new. This ability to juxtapose the sinister with the whimsical allows Burton to create worlds that are unsettling yet strangely inviting.
Perhaps the most significant aspect of Burton’s creative process is his connection to the work. His films are deeply personal, often reflecting his inner world and emotions. It’s what gives his work its authenticity and resonance. Burton’s ability to infuse his films with a piece of himself, while still allowing audiences to see their own reflections within his stories, is what makes his work so enduring.
In the end, Tim Burton’s creative process is as enigmatic and fascinating as the films he creates. It’s a process that celebrates the unconventional, the imperfect, and the misunderstood, inviting audiences to find beauty in the strange and the unusual. Through his work, Burton has carved out a unique space in the world of cinema—one where the darkness is never too far from the light, and where every outsider can find a place to belong.
So how can we take a page or two from the Tim Burton creative playbook?
There’s only one you. Flaunt it. Burton’s work is a testament to the power of embracing what makes you different. Rather than conforming to conventional norms, Burton leans into his peculiar interests and idiosyncrasies, using them to fuel his creative output. His films celebrate the outsider and the unusual, reminding creatives that their uniqueness can be their greatest asset.
There’s gold in ordinary things. Burton often drew inspiration from his mundane suburban surroundings in Burbank, transforming the ordinary into the extraordinary. This teaches creatives to look beyond the surface of everyday life and find inspiration in places that others might overlook.
Own your vision. Throughout his career, Burton has maintained a distinct and recognizable style, even when it might not have aligned with mainstream trends. He shows that staying true to your creative vision, even when it’s unconventional, can lead to lasting impact and success.
You have a million stories in you. Burton’s creativity is deeply rooted in his inner world, shaped by his childhood imagination and emotional experiences. Creatives can learn from this by tapping into their personal stories, feelings, and fantasies to create work that resonates on a deeper level.
Collaborate with like-minded people. Burton has often worked with collaborators who share or complement his creative vision, such as composer Danny Elfman and actor Johnny Depp. This demonstrates the importance of finding collaborators who understand and enhance your creative ideas.
Experiment with contrasts: Burton’s films often mix the whimsical with the grotesque, the humorous with the sad, and the fantastical with the mundane. This use of contrast can add depth and complexity to creative work, making it more intriguing and multifaceted.
When your gut talks, listen. Burton’s style is highly intuitive and personal. He trusts his gut instincts when it comes to his creative choices, whether it’s in his storytelling, character design, or visual aesthetics. Creatives can learn the importance of trusting their own instincts and following their creative impulses, even when they seem unconventional.
“Two alienated childhoods, two existences wrinkled by hours of solitude, finally crossed paths and began building a cautionary tale about conformity. This tale transformed into a gothic romantic film with a title that rolls off the tongue and falls over a checkered board of tulips”. Great post from Simone Nobili on the genesis of Edward Scissorhands.
Between eerie and endearing, the spaces between. The interstitial. Jobs often described Apple as the intersection of Art and Technology, I choose to see it more as a Venn diagram, the overlapping of the two creating its own space. My best work has always been a product of a hybrid. Detractors will say appropriation. But it’s that thing or combinations of things between. Look for it there, or create a there for it to inhabit