June 4, 2005
Robert Rodriguez is the Texan king of cool. The kinda guy who cuts cult movies in his garage (El Mariachi). The sorta guy who makes movies for bar-room boys (From Dusk Till Dawn), ass-kicking kid flicks (Spy Kids 1, 2 and 3D) and genre send-ups for sophisticates (Once Upon a Time in Mexico). Rodriguez is an all-action, hands-on cine-geek and his career has been leading right up to this – Sin City, a film noir with sex, soul and lashings of blood.
In Sin City there ain't no law, just pimps, killers, psychos, double-crossers and of course uzi-toting hookers in fish nets and leathers. The cops stay out of it – so long as they get their cut and the occasional piece of girl-action. But where there's sin there's not so much judgment as pure, unbridled, limb-losing, genital-ripping vengeance. Step forward the cool guys in long coats who have time to kill – literally. Lunkhead nutjob Marv (Mickey Rourke) hunts the cannibal-psycho who kills a prostitute with a heart of gold. On-the-run murderer Dwight (Clive Owen) helps a gang of not-so-helpless whores whack the cops 'n' mobbers who come a-calling. And grizzled good-guy Hartigan (Bruce Willis) protects a girl from a twisted paedophile loser with friends in high places. Meanwhile a whole bevvy of beauties bare their breasts and backsides or leap into action to slice ‘n' dice sickos with samurai swords and six-guns.
On the side of the angels, blondies Nancy (Jessica Alba) and Shellie (Brittany Murphy) add sass and ass in equal measure. Cue all measure of mutilation, slickly shot in stunning black and white, splashes of colour enlivening the screen with livid and vivid touches. And no one can do deadpan, tongue-in-cheek splatter better than Robert Rodriguez. Not even his old mate Quentin Tarantino, who guest-directed for a day.
Sin City takes three stories from Frank Miller's adult comic-books and stitches them together, with clever time-lapse touches and overlapping characters. Rather like Pulp Fiction. And to be sure, Sin City shares Pulp' s nerve-rattling, who's-gonna-live-through-this tension (and Bruce Willis). It's also got fabulous film noir dialogue – sharp and funny – narrated perfectly by Rourke, Owen and Willis. Shot almost entirely green-screen, with no scenery or props, the actors give their all, with solid performances from a star-heavy cast (which also includes Josh Harnett, Benicio del Toro and Elijah Wood). Rodriguez and Frank Miller – who co-directs - pull off a visual tour de force.
Sin City is literate, stylish and very violent. A cross between a Jack Vettriano sex ‘n' suspenders painting, a knights ‘n' damsels fairytale, a lad-mag daydream and a film-noir splatter-fest. There's morality in it. But it's nasty, brutish and long. If you like that sort of thing, it's cool. And for Rodriguez, there seems to be no purpose or praise higher than that.
In Sin City there ain't no law, just pimps, killers, psychos, double-crossers and of course uzi-toting hookers in fish nets and leathers. The cops stay out of it – so long as they get their cut and the occasional piece of girl-action. But where there's sin there's not so much judgment as pure, unbridled, limb-losing, genital-ripping vengeance. Step forward the cool guys in long coats who have time to kill – literally. Lunkhead nutjob Marv (Mickey Rourke) hunts the cannibal-psycho who kills a prostitute with a heart of gold. On-the-run murderer Dwight (Clive Owen) helps a gang of not-so-helpless whores whack the cops 'n' mobbers who come a-calling. And grizzled good-guy Hartigan (Bruce Willis) protects a girl from a twisted paedophile loser with friends in high places. Meanwhile a whole bevvy of beauties bare their breasts and backsides or leap into action to slice ‘n' dice sickos with samurai swords and six-guns.
On the side of the angels, blondies Nancy (Jessica Alba) and Shellie (Brittany Murphy) add sass and ass in equal measure. Cue all measure of mutilation, slickly shot in stunning black and white, splashes of colour enlivening the screen with livid and vivid touches. And no one can do deadpan, tongue-in-cheek splatter better than Robert Rodriguez. Not even his old mate Quentin Tarantino, who guest-directed for a day.
Sin City takes three stories from Frank Miller's adult comic-books and stitches them together, with clever time-lapse touches and overlapping characters. Rather like Pulp Fiction. And to be sure, Sin City shares Pulp' s nerve-rattling, who's-gonna-live-through-this tension (and Bruce Willis). It's also got fabulous film noir dialogue – sharp and funny – narrated perfectly by Rourke, Owen and Willis. Shot almost entirely green-screen, with no scenery or props, the actors give their all, with solid performances from a star-heavy cast (which also includes Josh Harnett, Benicio del Toro and Elijah Wood). Rodriguez and Frank Miller – who co-directs - pull off a visual tour de force.
Sin City is literate, stylish and very violent. A cross between a Jack Vettriano sex ‘n' suspenders painting, a knights ‘n' damsels fairytale, a lad-mag daydream and a film-noir splatter-fest. There's morality in it. But it's nasty, brutish and long. If you like that sort of thing, it's cool. And for Rodriguez, there seems to be no purpose or praise higher than that.