Following on from yesterday’s reflection on Corpse Bride, I found myself still wandering through Tim Burton’s haunted imagination — that candlelit corridor where love, death, and longing share the same heartbeat. If Corpse Bride was his requiem for romance, A Nightmare Before Christmas is his hymn to the restless artist — the skeleton who, having … Continue reading A Nightmare Before Christmas: The Gospel According to the Pumpkin King
Category: Movie
The Corpse Bride and the Living Dead
Illustration inspired by Tim Burton’s Corpse Bride. Original concept and rendering © Wordinguk, 2025. I’ve been working on my book again — circling the same themes of death, memory, and the strange comedy of human attachment — when Tim Burton’s Corpse Bride came to mind. It often does, that little animated elegy; the film has … Continue reading The Corpse Bride and the Living Dead
Dreams That Wander Too Far: From Plato to The Further
Cinema, despite its thunderous claims to originality, is in truth a great necromancer. It raises the dead more often than it invents the living, and its spirits wear borrowed costumes even when paraded as new. When James Wan and Leigh Whannell conjured Insidious, they weren’t scribbling out some pristine mythology in a Hollywood boardroom but … Continue reading Dreams That Wander Too Far: From Plato to The Further
King & Conqueror: A Royal Mess of Mud, Murk, and Misfires
History, we’re often told, is written by the victors. But in the BBC’s latest offering, King & Conqueror, history is rewritten by screenwriters who appear to have skimmed a Wikipedia stub, lit a few candles in a cowshed, and declared themselves medievalists. The premise was promising. Harold Godwinson versus William the Bastard - England’s last … Continue reading King & Conqueror: A Royal Mess of Mud, Murk, and Misfires
Conclave – or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Accept the End of Western Storytelling
I made the mistake -the blunder - of watching Conclave the other evening. A decision roughly on par with licking a battery to see if it’s working. It wasn’t entertainment. It was a two-hour slow-motion shrug, like watching a dying man cough into a linen napkin. Now, I’d been seduced, you see. Hoodwinked by the timing. A … Continue reading Conclave – or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Accept the End of Western Storytelling
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