Sin City
First off, if you don't have a VERY high tolerance for lopped-off body parts, mouths full of blood, and heads jammed into toilets, do NOT see this movie. Yes, it was directed by Robert Rodriguez (Once Upon a Time in Mexico) with Quentin Tarantino guesting, so why am I even mentioning this?
Second, the film is bleeding gorgeous. It's filmed in black-and-white with color accents using live actors, but the effect is outstandingly like watching an old 40s pulp comic unfold before your eyes. It's like a dreamy cartoon to noir all noir. The acting is spectacular. The dialogue is often excellent and hysterically funny. There is a CGI cliff highway leading out of Sin City that is like riding a roller coaster. The sight of real 50s cars leaping over hills and bouncing down like The Latest Goon eluding Dick Tracy will leave you in stitches.
Okay, if you *really* like noir, you obviously don't give a shit about nice things like dreamy effects and bouncing cars. So here's the downer:
The really sad part about all of this is that the only philosophical message the film appears to make is that the world is Sin City, the protagonist must endure endless gunshot wounds and broken noses and other difficulties in protecting the innocent or avenging the murdered, and even then at the end he will probably be called upon to sacrifice himself. This is of course a way old story line. It was decent enough to sustain original noir in pulp novels and comics, but with the stellar artistic direction of this movie, it would have been *so* nice to have had a story that truly made all of this seem funny--if viewed as satire--or leading to more insightful spiritual revelations-- if viewed as continuing the original noir ethos of one good guy fighting and detecting his way through a world of warped degenerates. Instead, it rather gives the effect of the cartoon religious pamphlets people used to leave in launderettes-- You know, "Christ Loves You," or "The Day I Learned What HELL Really Meant."
Only this one's entitled: "Limb Whacking And Explosions Can Save Your Soul. Kind Of." Ick.
Second, the film is bleeding gorgeous. It's filmed in black-and-white with color accents using live actors, but the effect is outstandingly like watching an old 40s pulp comic unfold before your eyes. It's like a dreamy cartoon to noir all noir. The acting is spectacular. The dialogue is often excellent and hysterically funny. There is a CGI cliff highway leading out of Sin City that is like riding a roller coaster. The sight of real 50s cars leaping over hills and bouncing down like The Latest Goon eluding Dick Tracy will leave you in stitches.
Okay, if you *really* like noir, you obviously don't give a shit about nice things like dreamy effects and bouncing cars. So here's the downer:
The really sad part about all of this is that the only philosophical message the film appears to make is that the world is Sin City, the protagonist must endure endless gunshot wounds and broken noses and other difficulties in protecting the innocent or avenging the murdered, and even then at the end he will probably be called upon to sacrifice himself. This is of course a way old story line. It was decent enough to sustain original noir in pulp novels and comics, but with the stellar artistic direction of this movie, it would have been *so* nice to have had a story that truly made all of this seem funny--if viewed as satire--or leading to more insightful spiritual revelations-- if viewed as continuing the original noir ethos of one good guy fighting and detecting his way through a world of warped degenerates. Instead, it rather gives the effect of the cartoon religious pamphlets people used to leave in launderettes-- You know, "Christ Loves You," or "The Day I Learned What HELL Really Meant."
Only this one's entitled: "Limb Whacking And Explosions Can Save Your Soul. Kind Of." Ick.
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