A shambles of a medieval castle atop a small but craggy mountain, both of which happen to be chock-a-block adjacent to a faceless 1960s tract-home subdivision -- in which, by the way, all of the homes are uniformly painted in a pink, blue, green, or blue pastel color. And for me, that is where the film's interest begins to wane. Simply put, "Edward Scissorhands" is yet another Spielberg-like tear-jerker, from the oh-so-sensitive (but cardboard) characters on down to the treacly, chorus-tinged music score. If you like this kind of thing (cf. "E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial"), you'll probably love this two-hour waste of time as well.
Review of Edward Scissorhands
