For centuries, many words in the English lexicon have had their meaning changed or watered down as the language itself has evolved. Truthfully, that’s the nature of words; they come into new meanings and connotations as their old ones wither away. Still, that doesn’t mean we should neglect where these words started or what they used to mean.
One of these words that has sort of stumbled away from its original meaning is the complex adjective “grotesque.” You’ve probably heard it before or maybe you’ve even used it in a sentence: “Wow, he looks grotesque today!” It’s generally used to describe something that is gross, ugly, or just outright revolting. But that’s not its complete meaning.
While those elements are all part of it, they don’t paint the entire “grotesque” picture. The real definition of grotesque is “departing markedly from the natural, the expected, or the typical” (Merriam Webster).
Of course, something can be different in disgusting or revolting ways. When something is truly grotesque though, it’s not simply disgusting, but distorted. Many grotesque depictions focus on distortion of the human body, which often unnerves us. By twisting the familiar, the grotesque terrifies with images that are familiarly distorted.
What’s the point of all this distortion though? Well, ultimately, the grotesque distorts and disfigures in order to illicit sympathy and disgust simultaneously. When we see a grotesque figure, we should feel sorrow that they are the way they are, but still have an innate fear as well. The grotesque are not outright monsters or animals. Instead, they are human beings, whose distorted features or unnatural deformities have left them scarred inside.
In literature, grotesque figures have a long history, dating all the way back to Greek dramas. For instance, the Cyclops that Odysseus defeats has only one eye, a distortion of the human face. Although he's a villain, he still exhibits human emotions that you wouldn’t find in a mindless monster.
Elsewhere in literature, Jonathan Swift and Lewis Carroll utilized grotesque characters in their writing, often to satiric effect. More recently though, the grotesque has come to be identified with Southern Gothic writing. Both William Faulkner and Flannery O’Connor have become known for their grotesque characters whose distortion speaks to the often-twisted ways of the South.
These days though, the grotesque now affects audiences in a variety of media, perhaps most prominently at the cinema. Being such a visually driven medium, film has the unique capability to showcase the physical disfigurement, as well as inner turmoil of a grotesque character.
David Lynch does this in his 1980 film The Elephant Man, which follows a horribly disfigured man who wants to be treated like a human being. The makeup and prosthetic work in the film creates something so horrifically stomach churning that no imagination could properly match it. Meanwhile, the writing makes us sympathize with him at every turn of his sad story, completing the grotesque experience.
Lynch’s penchant for the strange makes him ideal for creating grotesque figures, but he’s not the only director capable of such complex characters. Five years after The Elephant Man released in theaters, Pee-wee’s Big Adventure launched the illustrious career of director Tim Burton.
Another creative mind known for strange visuals, characters, and stories, Burton’s films are nothing short of whimsical weirdness. They often feature stark contrasts between dreary monochromatic visuals and bright, cheery color schemes.
Moreover, he loves to imitate campy horror films, leading to a unique combination of practical effects and beautiful imagery. Burton’s worlds are uniquely his, where there’s joy to be found in the macabre and beauty to unearth amidst the dead.
But despite his fantastic worlds, Burton also has a penchant for capturing remarkable characters. Although not always his, Burton’s characters have become icons of the cinema. Whether they’re original characters like Jack Skellington and Beetlejuice or preexisting ones like Batman and the Headless Horseman, his characters impose themselves into his worlds and dominate the screen.
At the same time though, Burton’s characters are often quite human, even when they’re subversively different. They sometimes thrive in the macabre around them, which is often reflected by their appearance, but they usually share the same desires as you and I. In other words, they’re grotesque.
As such, I’m going to examine some of Burton’s most exemplifying grotesque figures, starting with one of his oldest characters, Jack Skellington (Chris Sarandon). From The Nightmare Before Christmas, Jack Skellington is the Pumpkin King of Halloweentown, notorious for being the scariest figure in the land.
Although he is stop motion, Jack still offers a distortion of the familiar. A lanky skeleton, Jack offers a much livelier version of typical human remains. He appears humanoid, but his limbs are too long and his movements are often unnaturally deterring. Most of all, he possesses the ability to scare almost anyone, stretching his thin smile into snarling jaws in an instant.
Yet, Jack’s terrifying appearance contrasts with the fallible person he is inside. While he’s tremendously talented at scaring others, he has become bored with this position. In crisis, Jack feels that there must be more to life than scaring, which he succinctly captures in “Jack’s Lament.”
This of course leads to him finding Christmastown and causing extreme detriment to both holidays. However, he’s driven by his innate desire to find a fulfilling purpose in his life (or afterlife). Midlife crises are an all too human struggle, especially when we’re not sure if we’ve accomplished anything meaningful in our lives.
Burton’s able to illicit sympathy through Jack by showing his yearning for what everyone wants: purpose. That nobody else really understands his dilemma only makes Jack’s struggle more relatable. Of course, he realizes who he is by the film's end and accepts his role in Halloweentown, but he’s a grotesque figure, nonetheless.
However, not all of Burton’s characters are able to overcome their struggles and find happy endings. This is shown in his tremendous superhero follow-up, Batman Returns, which features one of the most grotesque figures put to screen. I’m of course referring to Oswald Cobblepot (Danny DeVito), otherwise known as the Penguin.
Although he’s Batman’s (Michael Keaton) foe, the Penguin still embodies both halves of the grotesque. His figure is indeed distorted to a disturbing extent. He’s short and comically round, making him an odd figure at first glance. But his details really cement this distortion, such as his unnaturally pointed nose and webbed fingers that are more like flippers than hands.
But despite this insanely off-putting appearance, the Penguin’s still quite sympathetic. His backstory exudes tragedy, as his rich parents abandoned him in the sewer because of his unnatural, monstrous appearance. There, he was raised by penguins for his entire life, never interacting with the outside world out of fear and hatred.
Of course, this doesn’t mean that the Penguin isn’t a villain. Throughout Batman Returns, the Penguin blackmails others, bites someone’s nose off, and even kills one of his own henchmen.
However, given his origin story, there was never a reality where the Penguin could have been a decent person. He was abandoned immediately and then never given a true chance to integrate into society.
Ultimately, the Penguin pushes both aspects of the grotesque to the extreme. His bizarre disfigurement doesn’t just disturb, but it terrifies as he unleashes his violence onto Gotham.
In the same spirit though, we do sympathize with him when we’re shown his tragic life even though we know that Batman must stop him. A fully grotesque figure, the Penguin never stood a chance in life, but he sadly lived up to the monster people made him out to be.
But not every grotesque figure meets such drastic highs and lows. Some of Burton's characters are even beautiful despite their grotesque traits.
Enter the titular and tragic character from Corpse Bride, Emily (Helena Bonham Carter). Another one of Burton’s stop motion films, Corpse Bride follows Victor (Johnny Depp) who accidentally recites his vows to a dead Emily (who is a root at the time) and becomes betrothed to her.
Given that Emily is dead, her visage is quite warped. She’s a little skeletal like Jack Skellington, but she’s not completely bone. Instead, she has a ghostly presence, complete with blue skin and a white wedding dress.
Unlike previous characters though, her appearance directly ties into why we sympathize with her. Emily feels spectral because she is a spirit of unrest. She’s haunted by her past, specifically how she was killed on her wedding night and never had the chance to meet her true love. It’s why she holds Victor to his wedding vows even though they weren’t meant for her. Emily was wronged and can’t rest until she makes it right.
What most draws our sympathy though is that Emily embodies beauty. She has a romantic soul and never did anything to deserve the fate she was dealt. Even in death though, she tries to please Victor, bringing him his childhood dog. Sure, her refusal to let Victor go is frustrating, but understandable given her situation.
As such, Emily’s beautiful soul shines through her now dead corpse. Even in a disfigured body, she glows alluringly, which contrasts in the overtly grey world Victor resides in. Her optimistic heart and eagerness to find her soulmate are quite admirable, making her a relatable heroine.
With such a tender soul and beautiful visage, Emily is easy to sympathize with. While she’s not Burton’s most grotesque character, she is both endearing and more palatable than some of his other characters. In a happy surprise, Burton lets her find peace by the film’s end, something that many of his grotesque characters never get.
In fact, Burton’s most exemplary grotesque character never gets a true happy ending. He’s severely disfigured and as sympathetic as any character, but his story feels like a thorough tragedy. Of course, I’m talking about the title character and authentically Burton creation, Edward Scissorhands, (Johnny Depp).
A science experiment with scissors for hands, Edward has spent most of his life in a foreboding gothic mansion at the end of an idyllic neighborhood. However, when saleswoman Peg (Dianne Wiest) finds him alone in the abandoned place, she takes him in and tries to integrate him into society.
Overall, it’s not too hard to discern the distortion of Edward. He obviously has scissors instead of fingers, but it’s a much deeper disfigurement than that. His face is scarred repeatedly, likely from learning how to not hurt himself with his hands. But that’s Edward’s biggest disability: he can’t grow close to anyone.
With scissors for hands, Edward can never really touch anyone like a normal person. It’s a sympathetic disfigurement, one that’s harrowing to imagine and even harder to endure. Add in severely underdeveloped social skills, and Edward is a full-grown outcast for much of the film.
Yet, Edward’s soft heart makes his distortion that much more tragic. He is easily frightened, timid, and incredibly quiet. Most of all though, Edward is eager to please others, especially Peg’s beautiful daughter, Kim (Winona Ryder). He does everything that her and her friends entice him to do, which eventually leads to him going to jail and having to flee the town.
Although he does get to enjoy other people and their love for the first time, the film’s events are particularly unkind to Edward. Like the Penguin, the world is not ready for him and turns on him quickly. He does have a kind soul, but his appearance puts him into a hole that he just can’t escape. At the film’s end, only Kim knows how special Edward really was.
What Burton’s film encapsulates the most about the grotesque figure is how we view them. We’re initially startled to see Edward, especially when he moves out of the darkness in his gothic mansion. The scene almost teeters into horror conventions, with a shadowy figure lurking around the innocent Peg.
But after we get to know Edward, we realize he’s nothing like his appearance. Sadly, the rest of the town doesn’t and refuses to admit him until he proves his worth by trimming bushes in whimsical ways. Still, he’s never fully accepted, as when circumstances ensnare him, the town forces him out.
With Edward and all the grotesque figures, they are judged so quickly by their appearances that it’s all they’re valued for. Edward is kinder than anyone else, but never fits in. The Penguin is treated like a monster immediately and is never given a chance to survive. Jack Skellington is also only lauded because of his terrifying appearance, which leads to his own existential crisis.
Nearly always, grotesque figures are defined more by their appearance than their actions. While some of them do the right thing and others do not, there are always those who fear and loathe them. Despite the sympathy that the audience feels, the grotesque figures of Burton’s films rarely receive any in their own stories.
But that’s part of the beauty of Burton’s grotesque. In his strange worlds, he creates disfigured characters whose inner turmoil shines straight through them. We sympathize with even the most revoltingly different characters and sometimes we fall in love with what they have to offer. These characters are different, but they can be beautiful like Emily, introspective like Jack, or tenderhearted like Edward.
In some sense, they are reflections of humanity stretched to the extreme. Sure, few of us have penguin noses or scissor hands, but it’s still easy to feel like an outcast, especially when we don’t measure up to the cookie cutter world around us. Everyone usually has something they don’t like about themselves; it’s just human nature.
In a world where looks are a valuable commodity though, I suggest that we go against the grain and try to sympathize more. Sure, it’s not always easy with so many unpleasurable people around, but that doesn’t mean we can’t try.
We can always judge others and some of those judgements might be correct, but what does that make us? Just beautiful people with distorted souls, but I'm not sure that's better than being grotesque anyways.
