This is a fascinating story which should make for a fantastic movie, but instead it's just ok. Entertaining, but nothing truly special. The worst part is that there are hints of something more interesting underneath, like when Margaret sees people with abnormally large eyes in the supermarket or big eyes in her own reflection. We wonder how these paintings are affecting her identity, because in a way they are all she is, but she can't claim them as hers. But that idea is just kind of... left there.
And then there's the main problem: Christoph Waltz. He's not the only one at fault - his character goes from charming to cartoon villain which can certainly be blamed on the writers and Burton - but his over acted performance, particularly towards the end, completely obscured any depth that Walter's character may have had.
Amy Adams, on the other hand, is fantastic and certainly the movie's saving grace. I would have liked to see more of her relationship with Walter, more of what made her willing to keep cranking out paintings for her husband, though I suspect a more three-dimensional Walter would have been needed for that.
And the narrator/reporter was completely unnecessary. I kept forgetting he existed and then wondering who was talking for a few seconds before I remembered that the movie had a narrator.
All in all, entertaining but disappointing. 6/10
