Bleak, Black, Brilliant
Mickey Rourke after being beaten by the ugly stick several times
Sin City
An electric blonde clad in an iridescent red dress stares moodily out over the sprawl of Basin City. A man approaches from across the roof terrace in a sharp black suit. He’s not dressed for dinner. There’s a “whisper” of a gunshot as the sultry ‘dame’ collapses in the arms of her killer. The themes of the film – death, desire and brutality - are elegantly encapsulated in this one swift scene. Magical pulp
Sin City is the most faithful translation of a comic book to film so far. The striking visual style of Frank Miller’s series of graphic novels has been ingeniously transferred to the big screen by Robert Rodriguez, through the use of the green screen and digital medium. From the opening shot on the roof terrace through to the final scene, the world of Sin City is painted in stark monochrome with occasional shocks of vivid colour.
The film focuses on three hardboiled tales from the city: a disgraced and ageing cop (Willis) protects a young girl from a psychopath (Stahl); ex-con Marv (a rejuvenated Rourke) avenges a murdered hooker; and private eye Dwight (Owen) helps a red light district stay free of the Mob and corrupt cops. Whores, trench coats and relentless violence are the order of the day. Gravelly voiced men behave in suitably manly ways, morbidly pronouncing things like - “It’s time to prove to your friends that you’re worth a damn. Sometimes that means dying, sometimes it means killing a whole lot of people” - with profound pauses and long drags on cigarettes.
The screenplay does not deviate from the source material in the slightest. Rodriguez supported Miller’s vision to such an extent that he gave him a co-directing credit, believing that the novels not only acted as a complete screenplay but also as storyboards for the visuals (in order to grant the credit Rodriguez had to resign from the Directors Guild of America).
Sin City’s violence is stylized to say the least. Miho the samurai chick leaps from rooftops bearing swords and swastika throwing stars, chopping limbs off left, right and centre. A backfired pistol lodges its chamber smack in the middle of Benicio Del Toro’s head leading to a bizarre scene (guest directed by Tarantino) in which he converses with Owen’s Dwight.
Sin City successfully creates a concrete yet otherworldly environment. There are references to the presidency and the church but then the potential reality leak is stemmed through overturning the norms - Marv blows a hole in a priest’s head during confession. Further, pedestrian stereotypes are thrown aside - Alba’s stripping Nancy is revealed as the embodiment of innocence.
The film establishes a self-contained and timeless world. Ferraris race alongside 1936 Cadillac Limos whilst Chandleresque heroes vie to save damsels in distress. Twisted chivalry combines with pulp and extreme violence to astounding effect. Miller and Rodriguez have created a mythology and system that easily match, if not surpass, any other mainstream vision. In the words of Sin City’s Shellie, “Eyes to the stage pilgrim.”
9th Jun 2005