In an open letter to Tim Burton, Quappchattttzzsss staff writer ‘Jerkwater Berg’ pleads with the once awesome director to pack-up-and-shit-off after seeing the trailer for his upcoming move Dark Shadows. Trailer after the fold…

Dear Mr Bruton,
 
Re: Time Bruton’s ‘Dark Shadows’
 
I’m sorry Time, but enough’s enough. The more I think about this, the more irritated I am. I feel I have reached an apotheosis of mild irritation and I need to lance this particular pustule and release it’s milky-stink by way of a good scratch. Hence this letter to you. First off, may I just say how much I enjoyed your earlier pictures, which exhibited an individualistic flair and original insights into the role of the outsider in society within a wonderfully stylised milieu concocted from your own nostalgic colouring book. Thank you for the many years of decent entertainment, I will look back on those times with fondness. That time is now at an end. Time you stopped now Time.
 
I have recently watched your new trailer for your upcoming new movie, (which you appear to have farted out); ‘Dark Shadows’. It appears you and I have come to something of an impasse. Firstly off, my main issue is how tired I feel by this whole endeavour, (and I didn’t have to endure the months working on its hackneyed construction). I simply cannot quite get over how unsurprising it all is Time; from Mr Jepp’s acting-by-numbers amalgamation of all his previous performances from the last 25 years into this new and never-more bland creation; to the look; which was once a reason in itself to go and see ‘A Time Bruton Film’ at the cinema; that same look which has become so passe of late that my eyes fail to find purchase, and flap about uselessly against the perspex wall of corporate anonymity, behind which, you, Mr Bruton, dick about with your inane light and picture shows. I now laugh as you look.
 
Fusing your faux-‘morbid sensibilities'[tm] with 50’s kitsch probably always sounds like a great idea around the development table – with eager executives urging you, their shambolic, droopy-faced champion, the bedraggled underdog turned Crufts Masterchef; Time ‘Mumbles’ Bruton, to reprise all the loveable quirk that has proven time-and-time-and-time-and-time-again, Time,  to make ever-more piles of ever-more whimsical piles of money (receding into curlature at their extreme no doubt). I can imagine you sitting in the anonymous L.A. air-conditioned meeting room with your expensive bottled water, breathing through your mouth as your nose chronically runs, doodling the same obsessive scrawl of yourself as you dolefully sit, much like [insert any Jepp character in a Time Bruton flim from the last 25 years] at the head of said table, the over-enthusiastic development headadges appearing much like the extended family [of imagined character] clamouring expectantly for a sign of adorable inarticulature. I can see how easily you may be misunderstood and be misunderstood, and how easy it may be to understandably sell out, I empathise, I do, I really do. In the same situation, I would probably do the same thing. But please, for the love of all things holy: Stop. Making. Films. Time.
 
In conclusion, ‘Dark Shadows’ looks shit. I haven’t seen a Time Bruton flim for some years now, and this will be no exception, only growing to my pile of unwatchable drossageature. I have barely tolerated you for long enough, your stubborn insistence on a continued existence within the entertainment-o-sphere is now beyond inexplicable.
 
I hope you will take my suggestions in the spirit in which they are written, and well-and-truly fuck off now.
 
Yours Truly,
 
Jerkwater Berg

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(ouch! – Ed.)

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