After Tim Burton's drab "re-imagining" of Planet of the Apes it would seem an opportune moment to re-imagine his own career.

The lame simian sci-fi thriller betrayed the rich imagination of one of the few Hollywood directors always worth making a detour to the multi-plex for.

This sees the fertile mind behind Edward Scissorhands and Batman back on firm ground with the surreal flourishes and dark undercurrents we have come to expect.

Based on Daniel Wallace's novel, Big Fish tells the tale of a teller of tales in the form of Edward Bloom and his relationship with his son Will (Billy Crudup).

Will has distanced himself from Edward because he felt the yarns the old boy continually spun were figments of the imagination that blocked a real father-son relationship.

However, when the old Edward (Finney) is dying Will returns home to New England from Paris for one last shot at getting to know his real dad.

In flashback, we see the exploits of the young Edward (McGregor) and how these formed the basis for what started out as bedtime stories but persisted long into Will's adult life.

There's a glance into a witch's eye the reveals how you will die, a gentle giant who becomes a steadfast travelling companion and the ethereal town of Spectre.

Edward relates how a growth spurt turned into "gigantificationism", a word that wouldn't be out of place in President Bush's mangled lexicon.

Slowly it becomes apparent that each of these tall tales has a grain of truth and as Will delves further he begins to realise there isn't just factual veracity but emotional truth as well.

While by no means perfect - the narrative sags badly in the middle - there's enough in evidence of Burton's cinematic alchemy to enchant.

Touching and never less than visually impressive, it's a Disney family drama retold with a hefty dose of irony and a shot of wacky invention.

Angle yourself a ticket to catch Big Fish.

Tim Evans