Miss Peregrine’s Home For Peculiar Children | Film Review

Since as long as I can remember, only a handful of directors have firmly planted their toes in the proverbial sand as established visionaries. Those creative masters of celluloid who consistently offer a unique perspective each time at bat – even when they strike out – and instantly energize a filmgoer’s soul with the knowledge that THIS is their universe, their movie.

Tim Burton, for all of his ups-and-downs, is waving valiantly from the top of this list. In fact, the very instant a Burton film begins – with the foggy mystique of his lens, the whimsical nature of his shot placements, his inane ability to elevate the absurd to plausible – you know exactly whose elongated hands you have settled in. He’s had a rough patch here in the aughts, with more than a few misses, but the second “Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children” fires up its hypnotic opening credits, there is no mistaking it. This is a Tim Burton film.

I am forced to tiptoe around the story at play here, because if you have never read Ransom Riggs’ novel – can we take a second to admire the gloriousness of his name for one second – then you should take your dip in this lake of imagination as unknowing as possible. At the heart of the story is Jacob (Asa Butterfield), a young man who adores his grandfather, Abe (Terence Stamp). He hangs on his every word and clings to his every story, even when the cynical insistence of his father force him to debate the reasoning. Late one night, Abe is seemingly mauled by a vicious monster, leaving Jacob heartbroken and confused. Did he see what he thinks he saw? Will anyone believe him?

A book his grandfather left him leads Jacob on a plight to convince his dad to chaperone a trip to a mysterious island Abe alluded to in his stories, all those many years ago. Upon arriving, Jacob’s search leads him to Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children. A quaint orphanage with a reserved placement in time itself, that affords refuge and sanctuary to what essentially equates to the UK’s version of “The X-Men”. Each child has a specific peculiarity (controlling air, invisibility, giving life to death), and they are cared for by the delightful yet stringent, Miss Peregrine (Eva Green, dominating every scene with nary a glance).

The first 2/3s of the film are Burton at his absolute best, with a cast brimming over with talent. As Jacob discovers the truth behind the home, and his growing affection for young Emma (Ella Purnell) swells, we are treated to textbook Burtonisms, the likes of which we have not seen since “Big Fish”. Unraveling the layers, establishing the mystique, reveling in the preposterous nature of it all. It’s as if Burton set off on a mission to recreate the marvel one experiences when first passing through the Walt Disney World gates as a child, or your first experience venturing through a sprawling metropolis. Every moment is saturated with magic and awe.

If only the last act could have sustained this glorious momentum. As Jacob learns of darker forces looming on Miss Peregrine and company, the narrative loses much of its charm and reverts into clichéd set-piece after set-piece where everything feels rushed, the charm of the actors feels left behind, and little makes sense. Even the enchanting score by Michael Higham and Matthew Margeson drops its focus in this final act. This was the portion of the film where I ceased seeing Burton anymore – all I could see was studio – and it was a crushing blow to such an original creation.

“Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children” proves that Tim Burton remains a filmmaker in a class of his own. Unfortunately, even the greatest auteurs are required to stick the landing and this time he almost missed the runway. While still a wondrously entertaining film with a much-needed reprieve from the regurgitated brands currently saturating our theaters, Miss Peregrine arrived promising us a masterpiece, and left nearly gave us the bird.