Sin City

This was one of my most anticipated movies of 2005. I've never really gotten into the "Sin City" graphic novels by Frank Miller, but I'm a fan of the genre, the style and almost all of the actors. Plus the thing is directed by Robert Rodriguez, who has made a lot of fun if not spectacular films over the years, and guest directed by QT himself, Quentin Tarantino.

After the film, my friend Dave said it was not what he expected. I think it was what I expected times 10. Sin City lacks a lot: a sensible plot, character development, nuance and common decency. It's also the most fun film Rodriguez has ever made, a stunning feast for the eyes and the best adaptation of a graphic novel since Ghost World. It's not for everyone, but for people savvy and, well, nerdy enough to get it, it's complete aesthetic overload. Sin City is geek porn.



Three main interlocking stories unfold in Basin City, a noir fantasia made up entirely of criminals, dirty cops and other assorted underworld characters. In his comics, Frank Miller assembled a universe culled from years of pouring over pulp novels, hard-edged crime films and detective comics, and Rodriguez has used state-of-the-art technology to realize this world on screen.

Much has been made of the phenomenal effects work already, so I won't devote too much time to it, but Rodriguez has somehow found a way to perfectly translate the understated black-and-white sketch style of the "Sin City" comics into a moving images populated by real actors and sets without losing anything in the translation. Every shot of this film could be framed and hung on a wall (a comment made this weekend by a friend, as well, about the Coen Brothers masterpiece The Man Who Wasn't There).

Of particular note is the blend of black-and-white with color. Sin City ostensibly is a black-and-white film, but every once in a while, some aspect of a shot will be highlighted digitally with color. I can recall one other film that used this effect repeatedly, Gary Ross' cornpone allegory Pleasantville, but in that film it served mainly as a gimmick to move along a tired story. Here, Rodriguez perfectly makes use of the technique to highlight the drama, focus the eye and, well, to make the movie look unbelievably gorgeous.

In one scene, a cop pulls over a nervous Dwight (Clive Owen), who's transporting the mutilated corpses of several gang members in his back seat and trunk. As the cop shines his flashlight in Dwight's face, it appears for a moment in brilliant technicolor, before the light is moved away and everything returns to black-and-white. And that's just one fine example out of dozens.

You may have noticed in that previous paragraph that Clive Owen spends a good deal of time driving around a car filled with mutilated corpses. If that sounds extreme, consider that he also has, in the passenger seat, the dead body of an undercover cop named Rafferty (Benicio del Toro, unrecognizable in heavy-duty make-up) with a broken-off chamber from his gun lodged in his forehead and his throat slit "like a Pez Dispenser." Finally, consider that Dwight and Rafferty only came into contact because of Rafferty's predilection for beating the snot out of his girlfriend, call girl Shellie (Brittany Murphy). (CORRECTION: I have just been informed in the Comments by pajamo that Brittany Murphy's character is in fact a bar maid and not a call girl. Sorry...the movie whizzes by so fast, I must have missed this detail.)

Yeah, the whole movie is like that. Most people will find it, I suspect, off-putting. The film doesn't just relate grisly, unpleasant stories. It revels in them, delights in recounting the specifics behind each dastardly, morbid act. This is a movie obsessed with dismemberment, torture, violence, hatred and cruelty. In one memorable scene, psychotic goon Marv (Mickey Rourke) hunts down and captures the mysterious serial killer (Elijah Wood) who murdered and then devoured his prostitute one-night-stand (Jaime King). Yes, Frodo eats people in this movie. The punishment meted out by the heartsick Marv could be the most outrageous ever featured in a mainstream studio film.

The sexuality of the film, as well, pushes the envelope. In addition to Carla Gugino performing nearly her entire role nude, every female cast member is asked to dress skimpily, gyrate provocatively and act like either a whore or just a slut. Most of the female protagonists are, in fact, strippers and prostitutes. This includes gang leader Gail (Rosario Dawson), Alexis Bledel of "Gilmore Girls" making an impressive film debut as hooker Becky, the aforementioned characters played by Brittany Murphy and Jaime King, and an extremely sexy turn by Jessica Alba as stripper Nancy Callahan.

This attitude towards women is at best juvenile, and at worst utterly offensive. But what can you say? It is what it is. Miller wrote an homage to the pulp fiction of a different era, and Rodriguez directed an homage to Miller's work, and all of it happens to look upon women as objects to be alternatingly oogled and derided.

Part of the appeal of Sin City for a fan like me is this sense of audacity. Violence, cruelty and kinky, dangerous sexuality are the themes that fill the pages of the comic book, and rather than translate this message into something even a touch more uplifting for the big screen would be cheating. That wouldn't be Frank Miller's Sin City, as this film is titled. It would be someone else's, a cheap copy of a daring, original work.

I suppose it's kind of unfair to argue that there's no redemptive side to Rodriguez's narrative whatsoever. Though they behave in crazed, maniacal and occasionally very sick methods, most of the "heroes" of these stories do fight for a higher purpose, generally the safety or honor of a kidnapped or murdered woman. Bruce Willis' Hartigan pays a lifetime of punishment for daring to rescue Nancy Callahan as an 11 year old. Owen's Dwight risks death at least a dozen times in the service of his girlfriend Gail. Even Rourke's seemingly irrideemable mad dog Marv kills for the memory a dead call girl.

These characters don't do what's right, they don't serve the law (except possibly Hartigan, but not really), but that doesn't mean they don't govern their behavior by some rules. What Sin City does is explore their world, their bizarre and possibly misguided sense of justice and morality, and it has a lot of outrageous fun while doing so.

This is the film Robert Rodriguez was born to make. His movies have always lived or died on their pure adrenaline rush. From his initial breakthroughs El Mariachi and it's American semi-remake Desperado, he's thrived on fast-cut, whirling action and gleefully amoral logical leaps. When he tries to fashion a film built around narrative, it's generally a disaster along the lines of The Faculty. Finally, he's found a project that really suits his abilities and interests, a nonstop cavalcade of carnage that cares way more about dismemberment than development. Not only is this his best film, but I kind of doubt he'll ever find material that suits him as well.