Sin City: A Dame To Kill For (2014), the second graphic novel to film translation of Frank Miller’s opus, is what most fans hoped for and what few critics enjoyed. Except me.
Don’t have time to read a whole review? Aren’t we important. Speed review: Another perfect adaption, Eva Green is nude most of the time and still out-acts everyone, even better visuals than the first, violence is not PG, I loved it. Suddenly found more time? Read on.
I’m a long time fan of the Sin City stories, having been handed a comic at the ripe old age of twelve. I was immediately intoxicated by it’s beautiful topless female silhouettes, film noir panels and tough guy dialogue. These were the first comics I had ever read where you couldn’t just assume any female character was a damsel in distress. Some were the heroes, some the villains, some were all three. The biggest difference was they were individuals, strong female characters with their own stories to tell, and not just trophies for the spandex hero to kiss in the final panel.
Then there is the violence. Not cartoonish in any way, no bubblegum colours to disguise the brutal reality of what crime and punishment really looks like. When I met Frank Miller years ago he talked about his own personal violent encounters in New York, the real New York before it was “cleaned up”, and how they set the backdrop for Sin City. Anyone who has ever been wronged and then had a revenge fantasy can stare into the same well that these tales have sprung from.
You’re probably thinking by now, “I thought this was a film review?”. Impatient bunch of mooks.
In 2005, when filmmaker Robert Rodriguez decided to turn Sin City into a film, I was skeptical. Despite the mostly genius ensemble cast, and the fact that I loved the films of Rodriguez, I didn’t want someone to butcher one of my favourite childhood memories (see Transformers 2007). I had yet to see anyone make a great adaptation, my comic book movie hopes having been curb-stomped repeatedly in the past (see Batman 1989 or Daredevil 2003). When the end credits rolled after Sin City’s premiere, and I had realized that Rodriguez had painstakingly lifted panels from the book to the screen, I was hooked. Instead of “making it his own” as filmmakers are oft to do, Rodriguez proved his love for the source material and his respect for its fans by making a truly accurate screen adaptation.
At this point in time every nerd should have been pointing their favourite comics at Rodriguez and begging him, “do mine next!”. Alas, that was not the case.
Nine years pass and - better late than never - we finally get a second installment of the Sin City film franchise. A Dame To Kill For surpasses the original film in every technical aspect, as advances in CG and green screen have come a long way in almost a decade. Plus it’s one of the few films I can legitimately recommend seeing in 3D, as it adds a tremendous amount to the visuals instead of just being cinema sleight of hand for stealing a couple extras dollars from your moth-filled wallet.
Once again, the cast is incredible. Thankfully Mickey Rourke returns as Marv, a role he was born and physically transformed to play. Bruce Willis does another passable job phoning it in. Jessica Alba who, after two films, still hasn’t figured out she’s playing a stripper and holds to a rumoured “no nudity” clause in her “acting” contract. Frankly, I’m surprised she hasn’t been replaced by a house plant. On a gusty day, in a window sill, a fern can really have some pretty sweet moves. The true star of the show is the breathtaking Eva Green, who plays the theatrically naked Ava, and eponymous Dame of the film. Despite her stunning and almost constantly nude body, I was unable to resist staring into her eyes, as she does all the real heavy lifting acting wise in the picture. Notably absent were the acting chops of Elijah Wood, and Brittany Murphy. The latter being the only one who really nailed the tone of classic noir in my opinion, versus the grittier neo-noir we get from the rest of the ensemble in both films. I would have killed to see a lot more Rosario Dawson, who is underused this time as Gail, but whom we should see again in future installments of the franchise.
“What about all the violence?” interrupts a still impatient few readers who have managed to get this far. I hear you. Everywhere I turn another critic has jumped on the “it’s too violent” bandwagon. Which tells me two things. They simply reviewed the film because they were given a free ticket and were paid to, and they are completely and woefully unfamiliar with the pulpy source material. Being upset that there is over-the-top violence in a Sin City film is the intellectual equivalent to ordering a pizza and complaining that there is cheese and sauce involved. Honestly, what did you think you were walking into?
The great depression spawned enough hardboiled crime drama to fill the trunk of a ‘54 Buick. Misogyny and violence were common place in cinema at the time, and no one would blink if a man slapped a woman across the face. Opposite to this, Frank Miller’s Sin City violence has a purpose that defines its characters and drives the story forward. Does a man slap a woman in the film? Yes, but only once and she demands it, confirming that she is in control. Women run old town. Women run the saloon. Men keep guns in their pockets for protection because they need to, but women keep men in theirs because they can.
Some of the male characters are purposely two dimensional. Marv (Mickey Rourke) is the embodiment of rage, Hartigan (Bruce Willis) is the conscience, Johnny (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) is youthful bravado, Manute (Dennis Haysbert) is unflinching obedience, Senator Roark (Power Boothe) is absolute power corrupted. All of these characters are utilised simply to highlight a contrast to the three dimensional female characters. Ava (Eva Green) for example has all of the above attributes, and shuffles through them like a stacked deck of cards. If only someone had added a splash of colour to the female characters as a tip of the hat. #sarcasm
I would be lying if I didn’t say the film has it’s problems, and since we’ve gotten to know each other so well in the past few minutes, I just can’t bring myself to lie to you. First, the pacing is a bit off. The trouble with a visual roller coaster of painted comic panels is that Rodriguez tends to linger a bit longer than he should. This takes away some of the frenetic energy you experience the first time you read the comic, and flip through the pages manically to see what happens next, before starting again to really take in all the artwork.
Also noticeably absent is a soundtrack, which I can only assume was a budgetary constraint. I have hoped that repeated collaborations with Quentin Tarantino and his rare ability to pick the perfect soundtrack would rub off on Rodriguez, but I’ve yet to see any payoff in this department.
Lastly, when you’ve only got a couple of actors standing in front of a green screen, you’re going to need real talent ready to bring their A-game, and not just celebrities and big names. Some of the cast seemed like they were barely present, though I guess chewing the scenery is a little difficult when they plan to add it digitally in post. I’m hoping for a big casting reshuffle for the next installment, but I’ll settle for someone hiding Jessica Alba’s clothes, and handing out cocaine and red bull to the cast before each take.
Essentially if you’re a fan of Rodriguez or Frank Miller, it’s hard to not like this campy noir. If you’re a critic that does not, congratulations, you probably got into writing reviews because you loved film and now you’re bitter and don’t remember how to take the ride. Success?
- - -
Johnny Larocque does not get paid to review films.
He just loves them, and defends them.
Tweet him your favourite hated film @FilmDefender
or leave a comment below.
