Burton, too early in his career to throw his weight around, doesn't necessarily do much to put his own primal stamp on Furst's designs, though there are certainly a great many isolated moments that feel like what the next several years would reveal as Burton's characteristic aesthetic: a forest at nighttime full of spindly trees straight out of The Nightmare Before Christmas , a clown balloon distending and warping grotesquely, the brooding Gothic (there's that word!) shapes of an impossibly tall cathedral.
Burton, whose inventive, delightfully haunted mind put so much zest into "Pee-wee's Big Adventure," "Beetlejuice," "Batman" and "Edward Scissorhands," has done it again.
Nightmare is a wonderfully original and darkly humorous vision from the mind of Tim Burton, director of Batman.
It's clear that this is the direction he would have gone in, if he hadn't gotten sidetracked by huge success with "Beetlejuice" and "Batman."
In place of the inspired, hellzapoppin slapstick of Burton's best movies (Beetlejuice, Edward Scissorhands, the first Batman), Nightmare provides a joyless frenzy of movement.
"Nightmare" is not as dark as "Batman" (particularly its sequel, which also had a seasonal motif).