It is not the easiest task to combine compassion and creepiness into one musical piece, but Danny Elfman has demonstrated, quite elegantly, just how to do it. Edward Scissorhands is quite considerably his masterpiece, instantly recognizable and hauntingly memorable. The concept of a man-made creation, a recluse who has been left with scissors for hands because his inventor died just before attaching natural ones, is certainly strange and possibly laughable. The film may indeed have played as pure farce if not for Elfman's artistry. While many films use soundtrack as the "glue" of the story, or as border, Elfman saturates every bit of Scissorhands so that it is as much his art as it is the director's (Tim Burton). The opening title is fantastic, emitting the wonder of childhood dreams and classic storybooks. But it is only the starting point on a journey of music that concludes with the "grand finale," which is not merely grand, but all encompassing. There are minor detours along the way, like "Edwardo the Barber," which is fun and reminiscent of Pee Wee's Big Adventure, but even in its lighter moments, Edward Scissorhands is classic.