Sin City: A Dame to Kill For (2014)

Eh.

Oh, you wanted a full review?  Okay, here goes:

When Oliver Twist asked, “Please, sir, I want some more,” he didn’t have to wait nine years for a second pot of food.  As I recall, he didn’t get any at all, so maybe we should be grateful that we even have Sin City: A Dame to Kill For, a pre/sequel to 2005’s Sin City.  “Gratitude” isn’t, however, the word I would use to describe Robert Rodriguez’s second adaptation of Frank Miller’s hardboiled comics; the proper word is somewhere between “bored” and “disappointed.”

As before, four interlocking narratives give us another look at Basin City, where the tough guys are tough and the women are all prostitutes of one kind or another.  Dwight McCarthy (Josh Brolin) is pulled back into a spiderweb woven by his femme fatale ex Ava Lord (Eva Green), while lucky gambler Johnny (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) finds himself across the poker table from the evil Senator Roark (Powers Boothe).  However, Nancy Callahan (Jessica Alba) also has her sights on Roark, while Marv (Mickey Rourke) lumbers around punching things.

Here’s the thing about this film:  you’ve already seen it.  Aside from the numerous films that have taken cues from the first Sin City, particularly vis-à-vis spot color and neo-hardboiled ethos, there is very little in the sequel that wasn’t already in the first film.  To name a few (veiled spoilers follow):  a cop’s suicide, shooting a woman mid-kiss, and Marv breaking into fortified compounds – which actually happens a couple of times in this movie alone.

The points deducted for originality really sting because Sin City was, on its initial arrival, heralded for its innovative approach to adapting comics to the screen.  Nine years later, though, Rodriguez has changed nothing, and the result feels quite stale, almost dated beyond the way that film noir usually harks back to a previous era.  This, for my money, is among the worst sins a film can commit.  For those that own Sin City on DVD, it’ll be cheaper to go back to the original.

If you’re playing the home game and can remember Machete Kills, you’ll recall that Rodriguez is now oh-for-two on sequels, and I’m wondering if the director has lost his edge (or if, a decade later, I’ve perceptibly matured as a moviegoer).  As in Machete Kills, Dame is overfull of very good actors, Gordon-Levitt and Boothe among them.  Post-Deadwood, I’m especially glad to see Powers Boothe get an expanded role here, since his particular brand of scenery-chewing is always a delight.  But where Rodriguez seems to be phoning it in lately, the cast too aren’t at their best.  Alba is trying, you can tell, and so is Brolin; even Green, seemingly inspired casting as the vamping Ava Lord, seems to be overplaying the part – I suspect, though, based on her performance in Dark Shadows that that’s deliberate (Ava Lord is essentially Angelique Bouchard sans clothing), but I might be giving her the benefit of the doubt.  One wonders if all that green-screen filming is getting to them, because the visuals appear to be doing most of the heavy lifting.

For all the disappointment that A Dame to Kill For engenders, it’s never patently bad, which is almost worse.  Making a genuinely bad film is in some respects more of an achievement because it elicits a reaction; an uninspired outing like this one can be reviewed with an unenthusiastic shrug.  I wanted to be swept away by this one like I was with the first, but instead it seems like a relic.  The gender politics are horridly outdated despite the film’s attempt to “empower” its female characters, and the Day-Glo blood sprays are no longer visceral enough.  Instead, the whole film plods out blandly, the cinematic equivalent of Josh Brolin gritting his teeth for two hours.  When he says “Don’t let the monster out,” we’re shouting back, “Please let the monster out and do something creative!”

Instead, the film pulls its punches and plays it safe.  If you enjoyed the first film but wanted more of the same without that feeling of freshness, you’ll have a great time here, but I suspect that this sequel will not be well remembered, if indeed it is remembered at all.

Sin City: A Dame to Kill For is rated R for “strong brutal stylized violence throughout, sexual content, nudity, and brief drug use.”  Stylized is the key word with the violence, because a lot of the time it looks like someone pouring out white paint; a few severed limbs and heads are seen, and usually the blood there is more red.  The middle segment of the film features all of the nudity, a man’s bottom and a frequently topless woman with her lower regions obscured in shadow; other scenes show strippers and prostitutes who keep their skimpy clothes on.  Surprisingly, the language is pretty tidy, with only one F-bomb in the batch.

Monday at the Movies - June 18, 2012

Welcome to Week Twenty-Three of “Monday at the Movies,” a grab bag of movies I hadn’t reviewed yet. 

The Mummy (1999) – As with last week’s entries, The Mummy was a movie very dear to me as a child, and I think I’m sensing a pattern here.  Like the Indiana Jones movies, The Mummy is a period adventure piece mixing action, humor, the supernatural, and 1930s clothing.  In fact, the film could very easily be read as an Indy flick starring Brendan Fraser as a mercenary hired to lead Rachel Weisz to a hidden Egyptian city where an ancient evil mummy (Arnold Vosloo) is about to be resurrected.  The film is fast-paced, very exciting, and entertaining at every turn.  As with The Rocketeer, there’s something to enjoy in each scene, with director Stephen Sommers effectively never wasting a scene; when the plot isn’t advancing, the characters are interacting in fun ways.  While the chemistry between Fraser and Weisz isn’t entirely tangible – a kind of throwback, perhaps, to the early horror trope of the protagonists falling in love – John Hannah’s role as Weisz’s besotted treasure-seeking brother remains one of my favorite supporting roles in recent movies.  The screenplay, though, is surprisingly strong, flirting with the monster movie trope while giving it a modern sense of humor and weaving in a compelling take on the plagues of Egypt (making this film the unlikely love-child of Indiana Jones and Cecil B. DeMille’s The Ten Commandments).  The procedural format of a chain of victims and the accompanying plagues helps the film continue to advance and gather a sense of purpose while our characters band together to fight the mummy.  More than a decade later, The Mummy is still terrifically fun.

Sin City (2005, Extended Cut) – With recent news indicating that the sequel is finally on, Sin City has been on my rewatch list for a while.  The story and the content aren’t for everyone, to be sure; the film is violent and extremely dark, its depiction of women problematic at best, and the dialogue corny in places due to Miller’s hardboiled sensibility.  But what holds the attention more is the unique visual look, which has spawned a bevy of impersonators (I contend that Zack Snyder wouldn’t have a career without Rodriguez’s inspiration, particularly on Watchmen).  The version under review today is the “Recut, Extended, Unrated” version where director Robert Rodriguez added in ten minutes of direct “translation” of Frank Miller’s comics source material but divides the interweaving narratives into their own short films (about forty minutes each).  The only story that suffers from being divided is “The Customer is Always Right,” which stars Josh Hartnett as a hitman-for-hire; the clip’s link to the end of another segment makes its ending stand not-quite-alone.  Mickey Rourke leads “The Hard Goodbye,” in which he plays the hulk Marv on a quest for revenge.  In “The Big Fat Kill,” Clive Owen aims to protect the women of Old Town from the mob.  And, in what would be my favorite segment were Jessica Alba a stronger actress, Bruce Willis seeks out Alba after learning that her former attacker “That Yellow Bastard” is eager for a second attempt.  All three leads are fantastic, delivering the noirish narration with appropriate gravel and world-weariness (it says something that the voiceover isn’t distracting), while the supporting cast (too many A-listers to name) rounds out the film into an enjoyable experience which benefits from directorial expansion.

TRON: Legacy (2010) – TRON: Legacy is one of several rare breeds:  a sequel better than the original, a film that gets better each time I watch it, a film where the soundtrack is a character in its own right... you get the idea.  I have mixed feelings about the original – it hasn’t aged well, the story is a little thin, and not very much happens in between plot points – but I recognize its innovative nature and applaud the sequel for pushing the industry in the same ways as the original.  The look of the film is striking, resulting in another rare film where it looks just as good with the sound turned off; do that at your own peril, however, because you’ll be missing out on Daft Punk’s soundtrack, which was one of the best of 2010.  But the story is intriguing as well, kind of a Matrix done right what with its use of a “digital frontier” and what separates user from program; here, Jeff Bridges (in full Dude mode) reprises his role as Kevin Flynn, discoverer of “The Grid,” as well as portraying the evil program CLU (via CGI rejuvenation).  Garrett Hedlund is Bridges’s son Sam who enters The Grid looking for his father, while Olivia Wilde is charming as a naïve program hungry to learn about the real world.  The characters are more compelling than reviewers gave them credit, especially the elder Bridges, whose paternal compassion is a perfect companion for Father’s Day yesterday (always reminds me of my father, at least).  I’m admittedly a Disney shill, but the more I watch TRON: Legacy (or listen to the soundtrack), I always find something new to like.

Be sure to tune in Wednesday for The Cinema King’s review of The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel.  For now, though, that does it for this week’s edition of “Monday at the Movies.” We’ll see you here next week!

Machete (2010)

Attention Alexandre Aja and the rest of the crew who owe penance (or at least a partial refund) for Piranha 3D: Robert Rodriguez's Machete is how you do a B-movie.

Straight from the Grindhouse trailer, Danny Trejo leads one of the most eclectic casts in Hollywood history as federale-turned-day-laborer Machete Cortez, who immigrates illegally to the United States after his family is murdered by Mexican drug lord Torrez (Steven Seagal). Once stateside, Machete is hired by Michael Booth (Jeff Fahey) to kill border reformer Senator John McLaughlin (Robert DeNiro). Double-crossed, Machete allies himself with immigration officer Sartana (Jessica Alba), taco vendor Luz (Michelle Rodriguez), and his brother/priest Padre (Cheech Marin) to avenge himself on the men who betrayed him. The ensemble cast also includes wild child April (Lindsay Lohan), bounty hunter Osiris (Tom Savini), and minuteman vigilante Von Jackson (Don Johnson).

Like all of Rodriguez's best work, Machete is brutally violent and equally brutally fun, ignoring the laws of physics in favor of scenes that are so breathtakingly cool that you'll find it tough to swallow your popcorn for all the raucous guffawing you'll be issuing. Rodriguez finally turns the leading man reins over to Danny Trejo, who proves himself adroit at being more than meancing window dressing on the sidelines of films like Once Upon a Time in Mexico. Having cut his teeth in Rodriguez films, Trejo is a perfect fit for the off-the-wall sensibility that governs the film, delivering lines like "Machete don't text" with a deadpan humor that belies a recognition of the film's own campy nature. It's here that (and I'll try not to do this too frequently in the course of this review) Machete succeeds where Piranha 3D failed - by carrying itself off without mugging vigorously for camp appeal, Machete is a true homage to B-movies precisely because it keeps its tongue - and not its entire mouth - in cheek.

With Trejo as the star of the film, second billing really ought to go to the trademark Rodriguez style of relentlessly accelerated action, which comes out here in full force. There are moments when a plot about illegal immigration and a heavyhanded political statement (heavyhanded only because it's never given time to develop beyond a rapid boil), but these are mere placeholders to allow for a little downtime between high octane action pieces like Machete's escape from a hospital using only a bonesaw and an enemy's intestines. With characteristically improbable violence - such as one character, stabbed through the gut, delivering a nihilist monologue - surrounding delightfully hammy dialogue ("God has mercy; I don't"), Machete is a winner for knowing that delicate balance between entertainment value and legitimate dramatic style.

Machete is also remarkable in that it manages to assemble the strangest cast of actors and actresses - and make them all fit together like jigsaw pieces in a movie that shouldn't work but does. There's no question that some of these people can act - Robert DeNiro and Don Johnson have more than proven themselves, and Jeff Fahey is always a hoot (between this, Planet Terror, and his turn on Lost) - but Rodriguez finds a place for Jessica Alba and Lindsay Lohan, who are, shall we say, significantly less talented. The strangest thing is that Steven Seagal even manages to fit into the movie, despite being entirely one-note and bogged down with personal baggage and a history of parody as long as my grocery list. This is less a credit to the cast than it is to Rodriguez, although I must give a hearty handshake to the cast for not appearing too cool for the room; we know DeNiro is practically slumming to do a movie directed by the mind that brought us The Adventures of Sharkboy and Lavagirl, but at least he's a good sport about it and steps into the spirit of things (which is to say, larger than life in very broad strokes) fairly quickly.

Notice that I've not made claims to the film being a "great" film. That's because it's not. Nor does it pretend to be. What Machete professes to be is exactly what you'll find underneath the wrapper - another of Rodriguez's "Mexploitation" films, made on the cheap but with an earnestness that excuses the meager budget and dazzles the eye with a cast who's interested in having as much fun on this playground of a picture. If you're willing to leave your disbelief at home (merely suspending it probably won't do), Machete will be as much fun as you're looking for. If nothing else, it's far and away the B-movie of the year. (Nice try, Piranha 3D.)
Machete is rated a hard "R for strong bloody violence throughout, language, some sexual content and nudity." Blood flies everywhere and everywhen, with knife fights and a few spats of gunfire dominating the action of the movie. F-bombs pepper the dialogue like a tangy mole sauce, and Machete (spoiler warning?) lands in bed with pretty much every woman in the film, resulting in some toplessness and rear nudity in three scenes.