Review: Corpse Bride


I checked out Tim Burton’s Corpse Bride on a whim. Looking at the Netflix sleeve, I thought to myself, “One hour and seventeen minutes…gee, that’s short. Even for an animated feature.” Now, after having suffered through it, I’m glad it was only an hour of my life that was missing.

How can I put this lightly? Corpse Bride = left over footage from The Nightmare Before Christmas. The songs weren’t catchy. The characters were stale. Johnny Depp’s voice talent couldn’t save this. Show this film to your child and he/she might start to question whether you still love them.

Tim Burton isn’t the genius I thought he was. He’s a clinically insane patient posing as an artist. He’s a hack.


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