One of my favorite lines was written by infamous film producer Robert Evans, who said there are three sides to every story: “Your side, my side and the truth. And no one is lying.” Edward Bloom, the fable-emitting protagonist of “Big Fish,” lives by the same credo — but sides and truths don’t matter to him, nor do they to the story.

This is what makes “Big Fish” such a remarkable film — by ignoring typical plot conventions, it creates a satisfying sense of sincerity.

Director Tim Burton’s latest work is a brilliant tall tale about an estranged son Will (Billy Crudup) who wishes to reconcile with his father (wondrously characterized by Albert Finney), before he dies.

To learn more about his dad, Will listens to him retell his own life as a young man (Ewan McGregor) through what are assumed to be myths. But, as suspicions grow larger, it seems the stories may not be so larger-than-life after all.

As a young man, Bloom leaves town for a life that will fit his huge ambition. In the film’s best moment, time stops when Bloom notices the love of his life, Sandra (Alison Lohman), at a circus. By dodging a flying cat and pin jugglers who are frozen in their place, he gets within her grasp, only to lose sight of her. The ringmaster (Danny DeVito) says he knows the girl and will give Bloom a single clue about her every month he works for him.

After years, he eventually tracks her down. The two fall in love, get married and have Will, whose date of birth is the film’s centerpiece.

“Big Fish” is by no means a classic film in a traditional sense. Some of the fables work solely as incidentals rather than motivating the story. Unfortunately, some of the performers are utilized as catalysts rather than actual characters.

However, the blemished qualities of “Big Fish” can easily be ignored. The film scores big points for convincingly pinning universal emotions. Despite their limited screen time, Lohman, Jessica Lange (as the elder Sandra), Crudup and Finney all provide memorable performances.

Take Lange, who does a lot with mere facial expression and body movement. Though she’s given no substantial scene to emote with her magnificent acting ability, she etches a performance that nevertheless feels well-rounded and complete.

Lange embodies one of Burton’s defining characteristics. Though he’s made a career out of mostly darker films — and not all good ones, for that matter — he excels at exploring human emotion.

I would not label this film especially different from his darker efforts.

Aside from character exploration, the film does contain many Burtonesque moments when something of visual splendor jumps at the audience, or when even the most inconceivable thing on screen can move you.

That said, “Big Fish” is one of the most convincing films of the year.

True, some scenes do feel labored or reaching of emotion, but it adds to the ambiguity of the story. Surely, many people who have had close family members pass away will be reminded of them through Edward Bloom.

A film that reminds you of something that has happened in your life cannot be balked at for its sentimental touches. It reminds you that people like Bloom exist, but the way you remember them may stretch the truth.

“Big Fish” is a good film for many reasons, but perhaps nothing more, than the fact that Burton delivers a movie — much like many of his others — full of wonder. Its sentimentalities work because we care about the characters. And also, more importantly, the film nails the widespread sensation of undying love.