Shakespeare is perhaps the last name to invoke in describing the latest installment of Hollywood's ongoing infatuation with comic book adaptations. And yet, the Great Bard's famous cliché describing life as being full of sound and fury yet ultimately signifying nothing seems to be the quintessential summation of Sin City, the fierce and bold new film with a whole lot of energy and flair, but, unfortunately, not much else.
As the name suggests, Sin City introduces a darkened world where blood and lust are the only things anyone understands. Evoking the noir genre to great effect, the story is set in a tough and gritty city where perpetual night reigns over the metropolis. It's an archetypical comic-book world where the men are tough and mysterious and the dames are decked out in leather and stilettos.
As a graphic novel series, Sin City featured a wide cast of characters and storylines, all of which directors Frank Miller and Robert Rodriguez try to cram into the film. Amid the numerous subplots, the film focuses on three grisly, testosterone-laden protagonists: Hartigan (Bruce Willis), the one Sin City cop with a conscience as well as a martyr complex; Marv (Mickey Rourke), a man with a penchant for extreme violence looking to avenge the death of his lover, and Dwight (Clive Owen), the prostitute-protecting, red Converse-wearing street fighter. The three men come equipped with three separate storylines, which interweave, though never quite as coherently as the storylines of Pulp Fiction, the evident structural muse of the filmmakers.
Beyond the trio, a slew of other memorable characters come and go, including Kevin (Elijah Wood), a mute, wide-eyed psychopathic cannibal; Gail (Rosario Dawson), the tough-talking queen of the prostitutes; Nancy Callahan (Jessica Alba), the former kidnap victim who grows up to be a pole dancer; and Yellow Bastard (Nick Stahl), a bizarrely mutated and yellow-toned villain. Although the three main heroes never meet face-to-face, they all aid in the unfurling of a meticulously complex plot that revolves around the inherent corruption of everything in the city, including the police, the politicians and even the church. None of it makes a whole lot of sense. And none of it is supposed to.
Sin City creator Frank Miller emerged as a comic cult icon in the 1980s, cultivating a reputation as an innovative and bold visionary. Miller heavily noir-influenced series of graphic novels catapulted him to minor fame, earning him much critical acclaim as well as a loyal fan base. As one of the three directors credited in Sin City, Miller keeps the film closely accurate to his original works, which will please comic enthusiasts.
At its core, the film is a violent symphony of severed limbs, disembowelments and every other imaginable brand of gore. It's no surprise that the two directors credited with Miller are Rodriguez, who demonstrated his affinity for brutal violence in the bloody Once Upon a Time in Mexico, and, arguably, the reigning king of high-style gore, Quentin Tarantino, who cameos as a "Special Guest Director."
The directorial team exercises virtually no restraint in terms of on-screen violence. Within the first 10 minutes, four people are ruthlessly slaughtered, foreshadowing the bloody path the film takes. While the violence is always stylized á la Kill Bill, its pure excessiveness grows tiresome even for those with the strongest of stomachs.
Sin City is certainly an oh-so-stylish film with its dazzling and often dizzying visual effects. Staying true to Miller's original comic noir vision, the film is shot almost entirely in black and white with a bit of splashy color thrown into the mix in the form of objects like a dazzling red dress, a neon-yellow-skinned man and a pair of shockingly bright red Converse sneakers. The result is an incredibly hip and often beautiful update of the clichéd noir genre. The visual effects are so bold and energetic, they almost compensate for the film's flaws. Almost.
Sin City may be bold in terms of its vision, but beyond its exceptionally polished surface, there's not much of anything going on in the film. And perhaps there's not supposed to be. After all, comic books are certainly not Shakespeare. But once the bells and whistles have quieted, there seems to be something missing.
Directors Miller and Rodriguez take such care with their vision and try so hard to remain true to the graphic novels that at times it seems as if they are trying too hard. From the witty protagonist monologues to the excessive, stylized gore to the visuals themselves, everything is too, too much, sometimes coming across as strained. The film certainly goes through all the right motions, striving to be as edgy and cool as a film like Pulp Fiction. At times, it even succeeds, but these moments are few and far between.
Sin City scratches at the surface of greatness, but is unable to convert its visual flair into substantial cinema. It's a fun, fashionable ride, but, in the end, the cold, unemotional characteristics of the city are transferred to the film itself, leaving the viewer feeling empty and unsatisfied.
Ultimately, Sin City is a whole lot of spectacular noise leading up to nothing.
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