Tim Burton's homage to shitty filmmaking will be remembered less for Johnny Depp's unflinchingly perky turn in the title role (which would have been better appreciated had Jon Lovitz not stolen it, um, years earlier) than for Bill Murray's arrival as a complex character actor. In
Ed Wood's epilogue, where Murray's would-be transsexual wordlessly regards a troupe of Mexican balladeers, he reveals himself to be demure, lascivious, tender, seedy, elegant and a failed romantic -- all in the space of