Review by
Eric Hillis
Directed by: Rupert Sanders
Starring: Bill Skarsgård, FKA twigs, Isabella Wei, Danny Huston, Laura Birn, Sami Bouajila, Jordan
Bolger
"Do you think we'll be worshipped by angsty teens?" asks a character in
director Rupert Sanders' soulless resuscitation of
The Crow. It's the sort of knowing, wink at the audience line that speaks volumes
about the film's attitude and disrespect for its intended demographic of
emo teens. "These kids will lap this shit up," you can imagine Sanders
thinking as he films his 237th shot of lead actor
Bill Skarsgård looking moody in eyeliner. Teens are no mugs though,
especially those of a Goth persuasion. The reason the 1994 adaptation of
James O'Barr's 1989 comic book (or "graphic novel," as any angsty
teen will correct you) was adopted by an audience of teenage goths is
because its director, Alex Proyas, was on their wavelength, knowing
exactly how to tune into their morbid taste. The tragic death of its lead,
Brandon Lee, in an infamous accident during production only added to the
film's dark allure. And it certainly helped that comic book adaptations
were rare at the time, especially those of a "dark and gritty"
nature.
Sanders' approach is less Alex Proyas and more Len Wiseman, taking his
visual cues not from the '90s but the 2000s, to such a degree that you'll
be forgiven for expecting Kate Beckinsale to make a cameo clad in a tight
leather outfit, which certainly would have livened up this absolute downer
of a motion picture. The post-and-sub-Fincher aesthetic (much of the film
looks like the print was soaked in piss) and the half-assed action
sequences belong in a previous era, with the latter particularly
unimpressive in this post-The Raid/John Wick era of Far Eastern influenced Western action
cinema.
The basic plot remains, with Eric Draven (Skarsgård) murdered alongside
his girlfriend Shelley (FKA twigs) and subsequently returning from
the grave to seek revenge against those responsible. However, as the only
politics Hollywood is currently interested in are those of an identity
nature, the original film's left-wing narrative, in which Eric and Shelley
are killed for protesting forced evictions, has been completely dispensed
with. The evil property developer of the original is replaced here by
Roeg, an ambiguous crime lord played by Danny Huston, who can do
this sort of thing in his sleep and is barely awake here. Roeg seems to be
some sort of centuries-old supernatural being who can brainwash people by
whispering into their ears, but the movie never elaborates on this
incongruous element.
Skarsgård looks bored throughout, and in several scenes his usually
serviceable American accent slips completely as though he can't be arsed
concealing his distinctive Swedish brogue. Twigs' performance is one-note,
and it's not even a note that makes sense for the character. Despite
Shelley being in mortal danger for the entirety of her screen time, the
British singer sports a gormless smile throughout, and much of her
performance suggests she's doing a bad Mia Goth impression.
It's almost halfway through the film before Shelley gets offed and Eric
embarks on his not so rip-roaring rampage of revenge, but despite spending
so much time in the company of Eric and Shelley they never come across as
anything more than some middle-aged screenwriter's idea of cool and edgy
kids. Things pep up briefly for a late blood-soaked se-piece in an opera
house, but it's too little too late and the intercutting of violence with
an opera performance is as big a cliché as they come. To get to that point
you have to wade through a lot of murky cinematography, bad acting, even
worse tattoos, and reams of exposition delivered by Eric's spirit guide
(Sami Bouajila), just in case you have any questions regarding how
a moody teen can come back from the dead. The ending leaves the door open
for a sequel, but I suspect Eric Draven will be left in limbo for quite
some time.
The Crow is in UK/ROI cinemas
from August 23rd.
