Tim Burton usually plays with monsters, ghosts, and striped suits. But in 2014, he took a sharp turn into a different kind of weird—the real-life art fraud of Walter and Margaret Keane. If you're looking to watch Big Eyes movie, you aren't just getting a period piece. You’re getting a masterclass in how a woman’s entire identity was hijacked by a man who couldn't paint a straight line to save his life.
It’s streaming in a few places, honestly. Netflix has it in certain regions, but it pops up on Max or Amazon Prime pretty regularly depending on licensing shifts. You can always rent it for a few bucks on YouTube or Apple TV if you're in a hurry.
The film stars Amy Adams and Christoph Waltz. They are electric. Waltz plays Walter Keane with this frantic, used-car-salesman energy that makes your skin crawl, while Adams plays Margaret with a quiet, simmering resilience. It’s a wild ride.
What Most People Get Wrong About the Big Eyes Story
People think the "Big Eyes" phenomenon was just some 60s fad that died out. It didn't. Those waifish, sad children with the massive pupils paved the way for modern pop surrealism. Without Margaret Keane, we probably don't have the "lowbrow" art movement or artists like Mark Ryden.
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The movie focuses on the lie. For years, the world thought Walter was the genius. He was a marketing wizard. He realized that people didn't just want art; they wanted a story. So, he told them he saw these starving children in post-war Berlin and felt compelled to paint them.
Total lie.
Margaret was the one in the back room. She was literally locked away, sometimes for 16 hours a day, churning out canvases while Walter took the credit, the fame, and the booze. It’s a heavy look at domestic gaslighting before we really had a common word for it.
Why the Courtroom Scene Isn't Hyperbole
The climax of the film feels like something out of a cheesy sitcom. There's a "paint-off" in a federal courtroom. You’d think Tim Burton was just being "Burton-esque," right?
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Nope.
In 1986, after Margaret finally sued Walter for slander and copyright, a judge ordered them both to paint a "Big Eye" child right there in the room. Walter claimed he had a "sore shoulder" and couldn't do it. Margaret knocked hers out in 53 minutes. That’s a fact. The movie actually plays it pretty straight because the truth was already ridiculous enough.
The Aesthetic Shift: Why You Should Watch Big Eyes Movie Now
Visually, this isn't your typical Burton film. There are no swirling curls or Gothic shadows. Instead, it’s saturated in the bright, terrifying pastels of 1950s and 60s San Francisco suburbia.
It looks like a dream but feels like a claustrophobic nightmare.
- The Colors: Bright teals, canary yellows, and sun-drenched streets.
- The Contrast: Margaret's internal sadness versus the sunny, commercial success of the galleries.
- The Eyes: The movie explains why the eyes are so big—Margaret believed the eyes were the windows to the soul. She was projecting her own trapped spirit onto the canvas.
If you decide to watch Big Eyes movie, pay attention to the set design. Every room Margaret is in feels smaller than the one Walter is in. It's subtle. It's smart.
The Business of Art and the Birth of the Print
Walter Keane might have been a fraud, but he was a visionary in one specific way: mass production.
Before the Keanes, art was for the elite. Walter started selling cheap prints in supermarkets and gas stations. He basically invented the "poster" market for art. He understood that if you make art cheap enough, everyone wants a piece of it. It’s a weirdly "business-first" movie for a biography about a painter.
Many critics at the time hated it. The New York Times and elite galleries called the work kitsch. They called it garbage. But the public loved it. This tension between "high art" and "what people actually like" is a huge theme in the film. Jason Schwartzman plays a gallery owner who perfectly captures that sneering, elitist attitude. It’s honestly satisfying to see him proved wrong by the sheer volume of sales.
Where the Movie Stretches the Truth
Biopics always fudge the timeline.
In reality, the Keanes' marriage lasted about ten years, but the legal battle dragged on for decades. The film condenses a lot of the misery to keep the pacing up. Also, the real Walter Keane never actually admitted he couldn't paint. He went to his grave in 2000 still claiming he was the real artist. Talk about dedication to a bit.
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Margaret, on the other hand, moved to Hawaii, became a Jehovah’s Witness, and finally found the courage to speak her truth on a radio show. The movie handles her religious transition somewhat briefly, but it was a massive part of her finding the strength to leave.
Actionable Steps for Art and Film Fans
If you've finished the film or are planning to see it, here is how to dive deeper into the actual history without getting lost in the Hollywood gloss:
- Check the Real Paintings: Look up the "Tomorrow Forever" painting. It’s one of Margaret's most famous and ambitious works, featuring a literal sea of big-eyed children. It was commissioned for the 1964 World's Fair but was pulled because critics hated it so much.
- Verify the Streaming Rights: Because platforms like Max and Netflix rotate titles monthly, use a tool like JustWatch to see where it lives in your specific country today.
- Read the Original Reporting: Find the old LIFE magazine archives from the 60s. Seeing how the media fawned over Walter Keane while Margaret stood silently in the background adds a whole new layer of frustration to the viewing experience.
- Visit the Keane Eyes Gallery: If you're ever in San Francisco, the gallery still exists. You can see the evolution of Margaret's work after she stepped out of Walter's shadow—her later paintings actually started to include smiles and brighter themes.
Watching this movie isn't just about catching a biopic. It's about witnessing the moment art history was nearly rewritten by a loud man with a loud mouth. It serves as a reminder that the person holding the brush is the only one who matters, regardless of whose name is on the frame.