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Vincent: 6 minutos de esencia burtoniana
Escrito por Agente Cooper   
Viernes, 16 de Abril de 2010


Valoración espectadores: 10.00

Vincent: 6 minutos de esencia burtoniana

El debut de Tim Burton como director de cine es una diáfana declaración de intenciones. Un microrrelato infantil de seis minutos donde el espectador encontrará a un cineasta ya absolutamente reconocible. La línea estaba trazada: formato stop-motion, expresionismo alemán, Sci-Fi de serie B y horror clásico. Vincent es una colección de imágenes llenas de esa pureza casi inocente de los comienzos de todo artista. Un anticipo de todo lo que estaba por llegar. Una auténtica joya


Burton, que homenajeaba a Vincent Price con la obra, propuso al actor la narración
. Éste aceptó y Vincent quedó así coronada por la distinguida dicción de un Price espléndido en la entonación poética. Entre ambos comenzó desde entonces una amistad que se mantuvo hasta la muerte del actor inglés en 1993 (un año antes del estreno de Ed Wood).

Vincet, 1982 (V.O.)

Vincent :: Tim Burton, 1982 (V.O.)

Texto (relatado por Vincent Price):

Vincent Malloy is seven years old,
He's always polite and does what he's told.

For a boy his age he's considerate and nice,
But he wants to be just like Vincent Price.

He doesn't mind living with his sister, dog and cat,
Though he'd rather share a home with spiders and bats.

There he could reflect on the horrors he's invented,
And wander dark hallways alone and tormented.

Vincent is nice when his aunt comes to see him,
But imagines dipping her in wax for his wax museum.

He likes to experiment on his dog Abacrombie,
In the hopes of creating a horrible zombie.

So he and his horrible zombie dog,
Could go searching for victims in the London fog.

His thoughts aren't only of ghoulish crime,
He likes to paint and read to pass the time.

While other kids read books like Go Jane Go,
Vincent's favorite author is Edgar Allen Poe.

One night while reading a gruesome tale,
He read a passage that made him turn pale.

Such horrible news he could not survive,
For his beautiful wife had been buried alive.

He dug out her grave to make sure she was dead,
Unaware that her grave was his mother's flower bed.

His mother sent Vincent off to his room,
He knew he'd been banished to the tower of doom.

Where he was sentenced to spend the rest of his life,
Alone with a portrait of his beautiful wife.

While alone and insane, encased in his tomb,
Vincent's mother suddenly burst into the room.

"If you want to you can go outside and play.
It's sunny outside and a beautiful day."

Vincent tried to talk, but he just couldn't speak,
The years of isolation had made him quite weak.

So he took out some paper, and scrawled with a pen,
"I am possessed by this house, and can never leave it again."

His mother said, "You're not possessed, and you're not almost dead.
These games that you play are all in your head.

You're not Vincent Price, you're Vincent Malloy.
You're not tormented or insane, you're just a young boy."

"You're seven years old, and you're my son,
I want you to get outside and have some real fun."

Her anger now spent, she walked out through the hall,
While Vincent backed slowly against the wall.

The room started to sway, to shiver and creak.
His horrid insanity had reached its peak.

He saw Abacrombie his zombie slave,
And heard his wife call from beyond the grave.

She spoke from her coffin, and made ghoulish demands.
While through cracking walls reached skeleton hands.

Every horror in his life that had crept through his dreams,
Swept his mad laugh to terrified screams.

To escape the madness, he reached for the door,
But fell limp and lifeless down on the floor.

His voice was soft and very slow,
As he quoted The Raven from Edgar Allen Poe,

"And my soul from out that shadow floating on the floor,
Shall be lifted--Nevermore!"

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