Corpse Bride

As fun as the film occasionally is, it just plays like a compilation of greatest hits.

They just keep going through the same things over and over again. The songs are forgettable.

All too often, Tim Burton's movies feel like they're covered in flop sweat, as if he's trying too hard and worrying too much. By contrast, Corpse Bride is a cool breeze across the brow.

Beneath the bone pile of allusions, Corpse Bride is a darkly enchanting fable in its own right.

Based on a Russian folk tale, Corpse Bride makes for breathtaking viewing.

What makes Corpse Bride sing, ultimately, is the breadth of imagination that it demonstrates; creating a cluttered, textured and mysteriously beautiful world that we're loathe to leave at the end.

Visually, Burton is at his most Edward Gorey-esque in the austere, storybook Victorian land of the living, whilst his contrasting comic underworld summons the spirit of Poe, the personality of Harryhausen and the ephemera of his own back catalogue.

The Corpse Bride may be a bit too melancholy to find a real family audience, but for an adult who hasn't quite given up on happily ever afters and strange goings on in the dark woods, it's just the ticket.

Another Burtonesque blur of wise-guy nudging and romantic exhilaration

"Better Off Dead" would have been a better title choice for Tim Burton's self-indulgently macabre attempt at creating an animated underworld of gleeful singing corpses.

There is a BEETLEJUICE-type of manic energy %u2014 a sense of imagination run riot that makes the film always worth watching, even when the story loses traction

A brilliantly animated, deliciously macabre and strangely touching triumph.