Review

Review Date: 3-April-05
Spoiler Rating: Medium
Juju Judgment: Juicy

Sin City (2005)

Sin City is a windy, low-lying Gomorrah somewhere between Hell and Cleveland where it's always the dead of night, women are chronically buxom and naked, and men have an unfortunate tendency to find their heads in unflushed toilet bowls. You hear about decent folks raising families there and playing by the rules, but the city doesn't belong to them. It belongs to perverts, hookers, cold-blooded killers, and corrupt men of power who have formed their own societies with their own cruel laws. Sin City's the kind of place that naturally inspires disgust in some and fear in others. But in certain romantics like graphic novelist Frank Miller and filmmaker Robert Rodriguez, it inspires a bold expression of love for the rough-and-tumble underdog who has long been a staple of American myth.

Coming on the heels of a slew of comic book adaptations, Sin City sets itself apart by adhering as closely as possible to its origins. Rodriguez gave up membership in the Directors Guild of America just to keep Miller as his partner and achieve an authentic translation of the author's pen-and-ink universe. As a result, only some of the actors who populate Sin City look like everyday humans (as much as any Hollywood actor looks like an everyday human), and they move through a hybrid fantasy world of real and imagined backdrops where color is reserved for blood, satin sheets, and other attention-grabbing images. Visually, the film is an impressive work of art (I foresee Oscars), but that doesn't always make it pleasant to watch.

The screenplay comprises a trio of interwoven stories about tough guys following a twisted code of honor for a dame. The first story, my favorite, stars a prosthetically beefed-up Mickey Rourke as a mildly psychotic ex-con who shares a night of perfect passion with a blonde and then wakes to find her dead. Framed for the murder and vowing revenge, he heads out on a killing spree that leads to a prominent clergyman and his creepy pet sadist (Elijah Wood). The second story involves an enigmatic bloke who calls himself "Dwight" after having his face surgically altered. (Yes, if you're going to get a new mug, the Clive Owen look is the way to go.) Dwight is what passes for a great catch in Sin City, so his dalliance with a barmaid raises the hackles of her sorta-boyfriend (Benicio Del Toro) and his sorta-girlfriend (Rosario Dawson), which inaugurates a turf war between the thugs, the cops, and the community of prostitutes willing to do anything to protect their autonomy.

The final installment is the heart of the picture, telling the (relatively) sweet tale of a dedicated cop (Bruce Willis) who saves a little girl from a rapist, gets shot and imprisoned for his bravery, and emerges eight years later to rescue her again, when she's a ripe 19-year-old who loves him for his kindness (Jessica Alba). Although this segment is as gruesome as the others, it punctuates the current of gallantry that runs beneath the movie's striking surface, helping to identify all three protagonists as guys who kill because otherwise the world wouldn't make any sense at all. Sin City will appeal to viewers who value style over substance (or just enjoy violence), but most of all it will speak to fans of film noir who like their heroes to be both tortured and noble, scrappy losers who understand evil well enough to respond to it accordingly. At once daringly original and deliberately old-fashioned, Sin City doesn't cry out to be liked, but it makes a convincing case for being admired.

Copyright © 2005 The Jujube (M. I. Kim). All rights reserved.