Sin City: A Dame to Kill For (2014)

When Robert Rodriguez adapted a handful of Frank Miller's Sin City comic book stories into a movie in 2005, the movie was met with critical acclaim and box office success. Enough success, in fact, that one would have thought that a sequel would have been planned not long afterwards. But nine years have passed since then, plenty of time for Sin City to have become something of a footnote in the history of movies based on comics.

That's why I was legitimately surprised when I saw trailers and commercials proclaiming that Rodriguez and Miller were finally doing a sequel. Maybe it was Warner Bros. making 300: Rise of an Empire, released back in March seven years after Zack Snyder first adapted Miller's 300 comic, that got them into gear, I don't know. But what I can tell you is this: much that 300 sequel, Sin City: A Dame to Kill For is a sequel that came far too long to matter and was far too mediocre to justify its own existence.

We begin with the short piece "Just Another Saturday Night," which sees the burly Marv (Mickey Rourke) awaken from unconsciousness to find himself surrounded by dead bodies and a wrecked police car. Having no idea how he ended up in such a situation, Marv starts retracing his steps and finds a trail of clues that leads him to a gang of particularly rowdy, violent frat boys.

From there we move along to "The Long Bad Night," an original story crafted specifically for the movie. It introduces us to Johnny (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), a hotshot gambler on the luckiest streak of his life. He arrives in Sin City and immediately hits jackpots on every slot machine in town. Johnny's arrogance gets the best of him, though, when he hears that the powerful Senator Roark (Powers Booth) hosts a nightly private poker game with the city's elite. He waltzes in like he owns the place, buys his way into the game, and immediately cleans Roark out. But the game's stakes are far higher than Johnny could have ever imagined, as the last thing you want to do in Sin City is humiliate a member of the Roark family.

Our third story is another one from the comics, the titular "A Dame to Kill For." It focuses on Dwight McCarthy (Josh Brolin), a private investigator struggling to put his dark past behind him. But that past comes roaring back in the form of Ava Lord (Eva Green), a former lover who broke Dwight's heart years earlier. She begs him for help, to save her from her abusive marriage to wealthy tycoon Damien Lord (Marton Csokas). Though his better judgment tells him to ignore her and move on with his life, he finds that Ava has a tighter grip on him than he thought and agrees to help her. Dwight makes a move to kill Damien, but in the process, he begins to realize that perhaps Ava has been manipulating him to serve another purpose.

Concluding the movie is "Nancy's Last Dance," the second of the movie's two original stories. Four years have passed since the events of "That Yellow Bastard," and Nancy Callahan (Jessica Alba) still struggles to cope with the death of John Hartigan (Bruce Willis). Seeing Hartigan's ghostly presence everywhere she turns, Nancy plans revenge as her hatred for Senator Roark threatens to consume her. And with Marv's help, she will indeed have that revenge.

The first Sin City movie was mindblowing. It was a unique experience because there was nothing quite like it at the time. But nearly a decade after its release, some of the glitz has worn off and Sin City is more of a footnote in the history of comic book movies than anything else nowadays. A Dame to Kill For is a movie that should have been made five or six years earlier, because now people have moved on. And when you throw in the fact that A Dame to Kill For is a mediocre movie anyway, and you have a disappointing time at the theater.

Returning to direct are Robert Rodriguez and Frank Miller, who seem like they just can't catch a break lately. Miller's only other attempt at filmmaking (his 2008 effort The Spirit) was a box office bomb, while Rodriguez had similar results with Machete Kills and his half of Grindhouse. (To his credit, though, he did have two modest successes in the intervening time as well.) Their direction is technically solid, still looking as cool as ever. It looks especially awesome in 3D, to the point that I really want to see what the original movie would look like if converted into three dimensions. The catch, however, is that it lacks a lot of the impact the first movie had. It's missing the passion and intensity that made the first movie such a blast to watch. And with that gone, it just feels like Rodriguez and Miller are going through the motions. Some parts are actually pretty great, I won't lie, but overall, I walked away from the movie with a "blah" feeling.

Miller's script, meanwhile, is kinda shaky. It's neither good nor bad, but simply okay at best. I did think that "Just Another Saturday Night" and "The Long Bad Night" are strong, while "A Dame to Kill For" is hampered by being a bit too long, and "Nancy's Last Dance" is just plain dull. But for the most part it's just falling in line with the direction. The gritty charm of the first movie is gone, having faded away after a decade of waiting and more than one movie trying to copy Sin City's style. Had the movie been made in 2007 or 2008 when the idea was still fresh, maybe my opinion of Miller's script would be different, I don't quite know for sure, though.

But the movie does have some great acting going for it, I'll give it that. While I miss Clive Owen in the role, I thought Josh Brolin did a really good job as Dwight. Mickey Rourke is a lot of fun and genuinely likable, while Powers Boothe is wonderfully sleazy as Senator Roarke. (All Boothe needed was an old-timey mustache to twirl and he'd have been perfect!)

The acting isn't all good, unfortunately. I'm referring specifically to Jessica Alba, who's a truly awful actress. She is just so unbelievable in the role that it feels like Rodriguez and Miller got Mattel to create a "Little Miss Badass" Barbie doll and trotted it out in front of the camera.

At least Alba is countered by Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Eva Green, though. Gordon-Levitt is the absolute polar opposite of Alba, a damn good actor that's practically showing off here. He's cocky and self-assured, everything the character needed. You can't help but enjoy his swaggering performance. Green, meanwhile, is fantastic. Much like her appearance in the 300 sequel earlier this year, Green is one of the movie's true highlights. She's such a vile, conniving bitch here, and she really makes the movie better for her efforts. And what were the odds that out of two mediocre movie adaptations of Frank Miller comics, the same actress would be one of the best elements of both?

Rodriguez and Miller captured lightning in a bottle in 2005. The first Sin City movie was an amazing movie that still manages to hold up nine years later. But it's ultimately something that couldn't be duplicated. I do wonder how it would have turned out had they struck while the iron was hot and made the movie after two or three years as opposed to nearly a decade. But in 2014, that lightning can't be caught again. The time has passed, the opportunity long gone. And as sad as it is to say, A Dame to Kill For is ultimately a movie to skip.

Final Rating: **

300: Rise of an Empire (2014)

It was seven years ago that Zack Snyder brought us the movie 300, his second directorial effort. Based on Frank Miller's comic book of the same name, the movie was a big fat hit and has been hailed by some as being one of the best "guy flicks" of the new millennium. And now, seven years later, someone thought it was time to follow up on 300's success with a sequel. I don't know why it took the better part of a decade to get around to it, but then I don't work in Hollywood, so what do I know? Regardless, 300: Rise of an Empire is a shameless cash-in that is several years too late, and it's an amazingly bad movie to boot. If you were thinking of seeing it, be warned: it's a waste of time, of effort, and of your money.

With King Leonidas leading his three hundred Spartan warriors into battle at Thermopylae, the Athenian general Themistocles (Sullivan Stapleton) leads his navy in fighting the Persians at sea. And much like Leonidas, Themistocles is up against what seems like insurmountable odds. The Persian navy not only outnumbers them, but is led by the vicious Artemisia (Eva Green), who assisted Xerxes (Rodrigo Santoro) in his rise to the Persian throne after Themistocles killed his father at the Battle of Marathon. Finding he and his navy in an unenviable situation where brute force is out of the question and victory itself may not be an option, Themistocles tries his valiantly to form a strategy that could have an ending in his favor.

I entered 300: Rise of an Empire not expecting much. At best, I was simply hoping for a fun, inoffensive way to kill two hours on a Saturday afternoon. But I was astounded by just how lousy the movie is. It feels like it should have gone direct-to-DVD or premiered on cable instead of getting a theatrical release. The movie is substandard on practically every level, with so few positive elements that one couldn't be blamed for missing them altogether. And honestly, I can say the same thing about this whole movie. If you choose not to see it, you won't miss anything, and you'll be better off for it.

The movie was directed by Noam Murro, a filmmaker whom I've never heard of previously. And honestly, I'm unimpressed. It feels like Murro's efforts were just a dull copy of what Zack Snyder did with the original 300. His attempts at replicating Snyder's style are inadequate at best, lacking the ultra-macho, testosterone-fueled machismo of the first movie. And the action sequences, which you'd think would be the movie's biggest selling point other than it being a 300 sequel, are all lackluster, uninspired, and mostly kinda boring. There's no life, no spark to be found. I honestly just wanted the movie to hurry up and be done.

I was also disappointed in places with the 3D effects. There are some moments where it looks really cool and adds some serious pop, but it often feels unnecessary. A lot of the time, the action is moving so quickly that the 3D doesn't add anything to the movie. One gets the feeling that, like a lot of movies, the 3D was added only to jack up the ticket price at the box office and make the movie a few extra dollars.

And then there's the script, credited to Snyder and Kurt Johnstad, is pretty lame too. It's based on Frank Miller's graphic novel Xerxes, itself an unpublished follow-up to his 300 comic, and if this movie is any indication, there might be a reason Xerxes hasn't been published yet. The dialogue is banal and corny as hell, the characters are clichéd, and the plot feels like a cut-and-paste of the first movie, only set at sea. Could this have honestly been the best Snyder and Johnstad have done? Because if it is, then all I can do is throw my hands up and wonder aloud why they even bothered at all.

Even the cast is a mixed bag. The majority of the movie's actors are forgettable, and even lead actor Sullivan Stapleton is about as dull as you can get. Stapleton doesn't have anything even resembling Gerard Butler's charisma or passion, making one long for King Leonidas instead of Themistocles. It's not all bad, though, with Lena Headey once again providing a fine performance as Sparta's Queen Gorgo despite being sadly underutilized. The real highlight of the cast, though, is Eva Green, who is fantastic as she plays Artemisia as a cold, heartless, bloodthirsty bitch. Much like Butler was the highlight of the first 300, Green makes Rise of an Empire worth seeing for her crazed, anger-filled performance.

But not even Green could save this movie. It's inconsistent, often boring, badly written, and is honestly just a poor movie all around. I meant it earlier when I said that 300: Rise of an Empire was a needless sequel that only seems to have been made to cash in on the original's success. But I still have no idea why they couldn't have come up with something better in the intervening seven years. I mean, it couldn't have been that hard... could it?

Final Rating: *½

300 (2007)

Ask a million diehard comic book fans about their opinion of Frank Miller, and you'll probably get a million different answers. But there's one thing about him that I'm sure most people can agree on: whether it's good or bad, Miller's work is most certainly a stylish, gritty type of thing.

Miller's work has brought the comic industry a lot of both good and bad comics, but he definitely has his own unique method of approaching material. It can be seen in his Sin City books (as well as its cinematic adaptation) and his work on Daredevil and Batman, and was put to use when Miller entered Hollywood to direct The Spirit. It even goes beyond Miller's superhero and noir stories, as evidenced by 300.

Published by Dark Horse Comics in 1998, the five-issue miniseries written and illustrated by Miller presented us a fictional retelling of the events leading up to the Battle of Thermopylae. And although it drew some criticisms for various reasons, 300 still sold tremendously well and won three Eisner Awards.

It proved popular enough that Warner Bros. Pictures eventually picked up the film rights and released a cinematic adaptation of 300 in 2007. With Zack Snyder — fresh off making his directorial debut with his remake of George Romero's classic Dawn of the Dead — helming the project, 300 was an enormous financial success despite professional critics being divided in regards to it. And as much as I enjoy comic book movies, I can't believe I've actually gone seven years without ever having seen 300. So with the sequel on its way, I might as well go ahead and check it out, right?

The movie takes us to the year 480 BC and the Greek city-state of Sparta, a kingdom of fierce, proud warriors. As part of the continuing conflicts between Persia and Greece, a Persian messenger arrives at Sparta's gates requesting they submit and give their obedience to Xerxes (Rodrigo Santoro), the god-king of Persia. Sparta's King Leonidas (Gerard Butler) not only refuses, but is so offended that he dropkicks the messenger and his entire entourage into a pit to hammer his response home.

Although they know Xerxes will surely retaliate, the upcoming religious festival of Carnea prevents the Spartan council from approving Leonidas's plan to lead their full military into battle. Despite this, Leonidas still assembles a band of three hundred soldiers, deeming them his personal bodyguards to get around the council's regulations. His plan is to force the Persians through the narrow coastal passage of Thermopylae, where Leonidas and his tiny group of warriors fully intend to stand tall in the face of an overwhelming opposition.

This wasn't the first time the Battle of Thermopylae had been depicted in film, the tale having previously been told via the 1962 epic The 300 Spartans. It was that movie that inspired Frank Miller to write the 300 comic book in the first place. And with 300, the story is taken deeply into the realm of historical fantasy. It's a testosterone-fueled, over-the-top action flick that, like most of the movies from its director, favors style over substance. And oh my, what style it is.

Though only his second movie, 300 is very much a Zack Snyder movie. Much of the style he's become known for is on display here, with the slow motion and stylized violence that have become Snyder's hallmarks put to good use here. And with 300, he seems to have drawn a little inspiration from what Robert Rodriguez did with Sin City two years prior. Both movies are based on Frank Miller's comic books, both are over-stylized efforts with unique visuals, and chroma-keyed effects, and a faithful approach to the source material.

And while 300 movies slowly at times, it always feels like it's building towards something. And that something is the movie's fight sequences. Snyder directs these moments wonderfully, each of them having a ferocity and excitement that makes the slower moments worth sitting through. The battles are the movie's highlights, the biggest reasons to see 300, more so than the "this is Sparta!" line that was an Internet meme back in 2007 because they're honestly the best parts of the movie.

And while I've never actually had the opportunity to read Miller's book, so I can't actually compare the script to the story he wrote, the writers do a decent enough job. There's truthfully not much of a story, just setups for each battle, but writers Snyder, Kurt Johnstad, and Michael B. Gordon do craft a tale that make the Spartans a team of warriors to be respected. The one serious drawback to it is the dialogue, which comes off as kinda hokey at times. But since much of it is befitting of 300's comic origins, it's forgivable.

But last but certainly not least is the cast, all of whom are actually really good. Rodrigo Santoro casts an intimidating presence as Xerxes despite not needing to do a whole lot, while Dominic West doesn't have many scenes, but he's very good in them. His character is a two-faced sleazebag that spends the whole movie undermining Leonidas's campaign, a role that West plays perfectly.

Lena Headey, meanwhile, plays Queen Gorgo splendidly. She plays the Spartan queen as something of a mirror image of Gerard Butler's Leonidas, giving Gorgo with a nobility that has a nobility that has a warrior's spirit beneath it. But 300 belongs to Gerard Butler, who grabs the movie and runs with it. Butler has appeared in over a dozen movies since 300, but he's never matched what he does here. His brings a fire and bravery to Leonidas, a passionate, larger than life performance that is honestly just as much a highlight as the battle sequences.

300 is not a great movie, nor is it even the best one of Zack Snyder's résumé. But it's certainly a fun movie. It's one of those movies that are exactly what you need if you want a movie that'll give you a shot of adrenaline. The movie is one of the manliest flicks I've ever seen, probably the closest Hollywood's gotten to replicating the awe and spectacle of Conan the Barbarian in the new millennium (and that's counting Marcus Nispel's Conan movie in 2011). Did I think 300 was all that I'd heard it was cracked up to be? No. But I did enjoy it, and sometimes, isn't that really all that matters?

Final Rating: ***

RoboCop 3 (1993)

There exists a phenomenon called "sequelitis," a condition that's plagued many long-running media franchises over the years. Franchises stricken with sequelitis often find the quality of each installment drops as it goes along. It can be due to one of a dozen reasons, from casting issues to a lack of creativity to excessive studio interference. Quite a few franchises have been plagued by sequelitis, but I can't think of many that have suffered quite as badly as the RoboCop saga. Paul Verhoeven's original movie from 1987 is a bona fide classic entry into both the sci-fi and action genres, a benchmark of awesome '80s cinema. But as time passed, it became apparent that Verhoeven had managed to catch lightning in a bottle with that first movie. Attempts to duplicate its success have never really been successful, but the one follow-up that gets the most flak is RoboCop 3. And honestly, it's for good reason. Gone was much of what made Verhoeven's original so great, replaced with a PG-13 mess made for teen audiences but accepted by none. Do you want to know why the RoboCop character all but vanished between 1993 and the recent remake? RoboCop 3 is why.

As the film begins, we learn that while OCP's stock has fallen so far into the toilet that a controlling stake of the company has been sold to the Japanese zaibatsu Kanemitsu Corporation. Their idea for "Delta City" still lives, however, and to accomplish this, OCP has created an armed paramilitary force they call the Urban Rehabilitators. While OCP-created propaganda promotes the "Rehabs," as they're called, as an extension of the Detroit Police Department created to help combat the ever-worsening amount of violent crime that plagues the city, their primary function is to forcibly evict people in the ghetto from their homes by any means necessary in order to make way for Delta City's construction.

But there exists an underground rebellion against OCP and the Rehabs, an ersatz militia opposing the violent relocation efforts. RoboCop (Robert John Burke) and Anne Lewis (Nancy Allen) find themselves attempting to protect civilians caught in the crossfire of a shootout between the Rehabs and the anti-OCP resistance, but Lewis is fatally shot in cold blood by Rehab commander Paul McDaggett (John Castle). His programming rendering him unable to retaliate against OCP employees, a heavily damaged RoboCop is forced to retreat, only managing to actually escape when he's rescued by members of the militia. But RoboCop's programming also drives him to protect the innocent first and foremost, and he quickly joins the resistance fighters in their fight against the Rehabs and OCP.

While it had its strengths, few as they may have been, RoboCop 2 was a disappointment largely because it felt like an inferior copy of the first movie that simply couldn't escape its progenitor's shadow. RoboCop 3, on the other hand, is a disappointment because it's simply a bad movie all the way around. Everything about it will have unsuspecting viewers rolling their eyes at just how goofy everything is. Everything that made the first movie a classic is gone. Hell, even the stuff that made the second movie even remotely watchable is gone too. All we're left with is just a watered-down action movie that is more goofy than fun.

RoboCop 3 was the third (and thus far, final) movie directed by Fred Dekker, who had previously helmed the horror-comedies The Monster Squad and Night of the Creeps during the '80s. But while those two movies have deservedly built reputations as cult classics over the years, this one has similarly built its own reputation as being so bad that it practically killed Dekker's career. His first two movies were creative and unique, but none of what made them special is to be found here. RoboCop 3 looks and feels like a typical, dime-a-dozen PG-13 action movie from the first half of the '90s. It's like watching Double Dragon all over again, only with RoboCop instead of karate. It's a weak mess that is often more dull than exciting, more disappointing than entertaining.

But I could have at least gotten over that had the movie at least boasted a solid script. But nope, we don't even get that. Much like RoboCop 2 the script was originally written by Frank Miller, but was drastically rewritten before production began. The final product, credited to Miller and Dekker, is an absolute mess. For starters, the original's social commentary is turned into a "rich vs. poor" class warfare angle that has all the subtlety of a flashing neon sign. There's no subtext here; everything is laid out on the table for all to see. It's just so weak that it really makes me bother why anybody bothered at all.

And because the movie had to be tone down to get a PG-13, the humor isn't quite as witty or outrageously over the top. It's all dumb gags and watered-down flotsam meant to keep teenagers out of their parents' hair for 105 minutes. The whole thing comes off like they wanted to make it kid-friendly because they knew they had an audience younger than an R-rating would allow. But doing that robs the franchise of everything that made it cool to begin with. I mean, did we need the precocious kid? Was this Dekker's way of making up for the vile and repellent kid from RoboCop 2? And giving Robocop a jetpack and interchangeable attachments for his arm? Why not make it more obvious you're trying to sell toys, guys?

The cast, meanwhile, is hit or miss. Among the misses is John Castle, who plays his role like he was a cut-rate Malcolm McDowell. Much like the movie itself, Castle's character is the weakest villain in the trilogy, and Castle just seems kinda there. I also wasn't too fond of Remy Ryan, who plays a little girl who's adopted by the anti-OCP militia after her parents are killed during the Rehabs' initial relocation effort. Ryan isn't really bad, but the character is so poor that it hinders her performance.

But there is some good among the cast, though. I liked CCH Pounder as the militia's leader and Rip Torn as OCP's new chairman, while Bruce Locke was really cool in his role. Locke plays an android ninja sent by the Kanemitsu Corporation to assist the Rehabs in eliminating RoboCop, and he uses the opportunity to give off a serious "samurai Terminator" vibe. The whole idea's kinda goofy, but Locke pulls it off well.

And last but not least is Robert John Burke, who replaces Peter Weller in the title role. Burke's no Peter Weller, but he still does a fine job regardless. He brings a warmth and humanity that balances RoboCop's robotic side, letting him actually be Murphy for a change. Burke is good in the role, and while Weller will forever be the man behind the character in the eyes of many, myself included, Burke's contributions are worth noting.

When it comes to so-called "franchise killers," RoboCop 3 is particularly bad. The series had already been on a slippery slope after the train wreck that was the second movie, but this one sealed the deal. It completely jettisoned everything that made the original movie great and dumbs it down in an effort to make a few more dollars. RoboCop 3 is one of those sequels that makes you resent the original for having spawned it. And say what you will about the RoboCop remake, but at least it's better than this.

Final Rating: *½

RoboCop 2 (1990)

When it was released in the summer of 1987, RoboCop was warmly received by both audiences and critics. The movie still holds up nearly thirty years after its release, a testament to just how good it is. And because of its success, it's natural that Hollywood would want to capitalize on it. While the movie inspired a short-lived Saturday morning cartoon in 1988 and some comic books and video games, there was no true successor until MGM released RoboCop 2 in 1990. You'd think the movie would turn out relatively okay, since it has some talented names attached as writer and director. But I guess the original's shoes were too big to fill because this sequel didn't come anywhere near matching its success.

Things haven't exactly gotten any better since we last left Detroit. The city is dangerously close to going bankrupt thanks to the continued machinations of the unscrupulous mega-corporation OCP. A full economic collapse would allow OCP to foreclose upon the entire city and thus control Detroit's government, allowing them to further pursue the "Delta City" plans they'd proposed in the first movie. To help accomplish this, OCP forces the police to strike by drastically cutting their salaries and pensions. And a police strike means that the streets of Detroit have quickly descended into pure lawless anarchy.

Very few cops are still on regular duty, the most notable one being RoboCop (Peter Weller), who continues his war against crime with the assistance of his partner Anne Lewis (Nancy Allen). But the growing opinion within OCP is that RoboCop is becoming obsolete, and that a more advanced model should be patrolling the streets of Detroit. Their attempts at creating a "RoboCop 2," however, are continually met with disaster when each candidate freaks out and kills themselves upon their activation. Things quickly change when Dr. Juliette Faxx (Belinda Bauer), an amoral psychologist under OCP's employ, takes over the program and gets the idea that they'd gotten lucky with Alex Murphy's transformation into RoboCop. If turning another police officer into a new RoboCop won't work, then maybe someone with megalomaniacal tendencies could.

And much like with Murphy's death in the first movie, an opportunity quickly presents itself. RoboCop has been investigating the source of a new designer narcotic called "Nuke," following a trail of clues to a factory owned by Cain (Tom Noonan), a drug lord with a messianic complex. His first attempt at apprehending Cain is less than fruitful, as RoboCop is quickly outnumbered, defeated, and literally torn to pieces. OCP rebuilds him, and being quite the obtrusive bureaucrat, Dr. Faxx neuters him by adding over three hundred conflicting orders to his programming, making him more family friendly and politically correct, thus rendering him completely incapable of combating Detroit's violent criminals.

But a distraught RoboCop manages to reset his programming to its original settings, allowing him to go after Cain a second time arrest him, significantly injuring him in the process. Seizing the opportunity, Dr. Faxx switches off Cain's life support and claims his body for the RoboCop 2 program. The end result is a hulking mechanical monstrosity that's more ED-209 than RoboCop, fueled by Nuke and controlled by the mind of a psychopath. So of course, "RoboCain" ends up running amok and it's up to the original RoboCop to bring him down.

RoboCop 2 is the kind of sequel that makes you think the producers had only read the Cliff's Notes of the original movie. You get the feeling that the producers were given a list of all the things people liked about the first movie and decided they would just copy them without thinking what made them so good in the first place. The whole thing is one of the purest examples of a sequel that was made to cash in on its progenitor's success without caring about the quality of their own movie. It was a cash grab, pure and simple. There wasn't any desire to continue the story or further develop the Murphy/RoboCop dichotomy, just some studio executives wanting to make a little money with a name people recognized and liked.

The movie was the final film directed by the late Irvin Kershner, who had previously found success with The Empire Strikes Back and the James Bond movie Never Say Never Again. Part of why the first movie worked was because of Paul Verhoeven's over-the-top sensibilities adding to the movie's dark sense of humor. But because he was off making Total Recall at the time, he was unable to direct RoboCop 2 and as such this sequel lacks the sarcastic tone he brought to the first movie. Kershner creates some fine moments here, but it's tonally inconsistent. The movie tries doing a hundred different things at once in an attempt to replicate the original's formula for success, with Kershner being stuck trying to put it all together into something that makes sense. But the end result is a movie that's all over the place. It veers wildly from clichéd early-'90s action movie to dumb comedy, stopping once in a while to throw in a brief amount of poorly-handled moody existentialism and the occasional dig at politics. Kershner could only do so much with what he was given, though I will say that he at least tried his hardest. Sometimes, you have to take what you can get.

Even the special effects have their ups and downs. The sequel follows in the original's footsteps by using stop-motion miniatures to represent Cain's new robotic body, but something about it feels off. The stop-motion effects never really blend in with the rest of the scenes they appear in. They never feel like they really co-exist with the actors, a situation that ranges from mildly bothersome to painfully obvious to the point of being distracting depending on what scenes you're watching. Could times have changed so much in the three years between RoboCop and RoboCop 2 that the special effects could look outdated? How do you take such a step backwards in such a short amount of time? Was it a budget problem? Was it some kind of hiccup in the creative process?

The movie also suffers from a lackluster script as well. Comic book legend Frank Miller had originally been hired to write the movie following the success of his now-classic Batman book The Dark Knight Returns, but his script quickly went through numerous rewrites after studio executives decided they weren't happy with it. The final result, credited to Miller and Walon Green, ends up being a jumbled mess of undercooked ideas and half-hearted attempts at catching lighting in a bottle a second time.

For starters, the script introduces some interesting subplots only to resolve them almost immediately without developing them like they could have been. One sees RoboCop apparently return to his existential "man vs. machine" crisis from the early parts of the first movie, practically stalking Alex Murphy's widow and son, longing to reconnect with them. The subplot is admittedly an intriguing one, one that I was actually happy to see revisited in the new RoboCop remake, but I've got some problems with it. Part of it seems like RoboCop is back to the way he was when he was first introduced in the first movie, using a monotone voice and a more stiff demeanor. By the end of Verhoeven's original, RoboCop had reclaimed his humanity and his "Alex Murphy" identity had come shining through his programming, so why this step backwards? And why bring up the whole "RoboCop stalks the Murphys" thing at all if you were going to wrap it up as quickly as possible and not do anything worthwhile with it?

The same goes for the other subplot where Dr. Faxx reprograms RoboCop with all those nonsensical directives. The idea doesn't go anywhere or contribute anything to the movie (to the point that I could have easily left it out of the earlier plot synopsis and not missed it at all), and it is resolved so quickly I wondered why they even brought it up at all. RoboCop being turned into an ultra-PC goody-two-shoes by focus groups and meddling corporate executives could have made for a fantastic satire of Hollywood action movies if there had been stronger writing.

And while I'm here, I might as well talk about what some consider the movie's most controversial aspect, its depiction of children. Every child you see in this movie is just as evil as the adult criminals you see. Had it been constrained to just the one scene where the Little League team robs an electronics store, it could have been passed off as a joke and would have been actually pretty funny. But instead we also have the character Hob, who serves as Cain's second-in-command. He's trigger-happy, swears like a sailor, is as vicious as a rabid pit bull, and is also twelve years old. The fact that they had a child play this ruthless would-be drug kingpin is amazing enough, but add on top of it the movie's expectation that we're supposed to feel sympathy for this pint-sized monster when he gets his final comeuppance just because he's a kid is ludicrous. He spends the whole movie trying to kill RoboCop and Lewis, and is a general all-around asshole with no redeeming qualities that I could find, and we're supposed to feel sorry for him at the end? Yeah, no, RoboCop 2. Not gonna happen. You don't want me to pity the adult villains, so why should I pity the child villains?

Even the movie's acting is a bit of a step down from the original movie. I will confess to enjoying Willard E. Pugh's goofy performance as the beleaguered mayor of Detroit, and I thought Peter Weller once again did a fine job as RoboCop. Weller is actually pretty funny in the scenes following RoboCop's psychological neutering, but I wish he'd been given more moments where he's allowed to show that Alex Murphy still exists within that cybernetic body. There's a scene early in the movie where he realizes just how much pain he's causing his widow upon being confronted by her, and gives up on trying to reconnect with his family. While the whole subplot could have been done better, Weller plays it with a level of subtle pathos that shows that there's a human being in that suit. I wanted to see where Weller could go with that because I thought he was fantastic in these moments, but alas, it wasn't to be.

The rest of the cast is inconsistent, though. Many of them are just plain dull, to tell you the truth. RoboCop 2's villains are nowhere near as charismatic or intimidating as the originals, with Tom Noonan especially seeming disinterested in the whole thing. I also can't say I was particularly a fan of Gabriel Damon, who I felt was more annoying than anything else (though much of it has to do with his lousy character). Belinda Bauer is the worst offender though, the only member of the cast that I thought was outright awful. Damon's character might have been annoying, but at least he was watchable. Bauer, on the other hand, is absolutely dreadful in every scene she's in. After a while, I just started fast-forwarding every time she's on the screen just because I couldn't bear to watch her anymore.

RoboCop 2 was a movie I remember thinking was really cool back when I was a kid. But watching it now for the first time in several years, I can't help but notice just how flawed it is. There are moments I will say I liked, but the whole thing feels like someone singing a really bad cover song. The music might be there, but it sounds off-key. It misses everything that made the original RoboCop great, only trying to follow it on the most superficial of levels. Even when you don't compare it to the first movie, RoboCop 2 is still only mediocre at best. But as big a letdown as this one might be, there are far worse RoboCop movies out there...

Final Rating: **

The Spirit (2008)

Among comic book fans, there are certain writers and artists that are held in very high esteem. People like Stan Lee, Jack Kirby, and Steve Ditko are all cited as important figures within the industry. But few are as respected as Will Eisner. Eisner began his career as a cartoonist in the 1930s, and as the years rolled by, he would become one of the comic industry's most influential creators. The industry's version of the Oscars are even named the Eisner Awards in his honor. But for all his contributions, perhaps his most famous is "The Spirit."

A do-gooder whose stories combined heroics, crime stories, and noir, The Spirit made his first appearance in a special supplement in newspapers published by the Register and Tribune Syndicate on June 2, 1940. This supplement ran until 1952, and The Spirit has appeared in more traditional comic books ever since, having called DC Comics home for the last several years. Although the character isn't exactly among the A-list comic book characters that have earned widespread mainstream recognition, The Spirit is a character that has managed to endure.

The Spirit finally managed to venture into Hollywood on Christmas Day in 2008, after spending nearly seventy years on the printed page. But despite having famed comic book writer and artist Frank Miller at the helm and a few big name actors in the cast, the movie ended up being a pretty resounding flop at the American box office. I'm pretty sure there's a good reason for that, too.

There once was an ambitious police officer named Denny Colt (Gabriel Macht). Presumed to have been killed on the job, Colt was mysteriously reborn with an uncanny ability to quickly recover from any injury, no matter how grievous. He now exists as "The Spirit," a masked vigilante determined to protect his beloved hometown of Central City.

Unfortunately, doing so will not be easy. The Spirit must contend with the villainous Octopus (Samuel L. Jackson). The Octopus's latest plan: to obtain a Greek amphora that supposedly contains the blood of Heracles, which is rumored to grant immortality. As The Spirit follows the trail of his arch-nemesis, he soon crosses paths with Sand Saref (Eva Mendes), an old flame who became an international thief after they parted ways and is also after Heracles's blood. The Spirit is forced to deal with problems from all sides if he wishes to successfully stop the Octopus.

If you want to know why The Spirit bombed at the box office, I'll tell you: the movie collapsed under the weight of its own stupidity. It's one of those movies where things keep happening for no reason other than to fill the time between the opening and closing credits. There's no particular rhyme or reason to any of it. It merely exists for the sake of existing.

The movie honestly feels like Frank Miller was trying to do a really bad parody of himself. Nearly all of the elements are there: the movie is shot in a style similar to Sin City, the heroes are hardboiled, the villains are over-the-top, the women are either femme fatales or sex objects, and the dialogue is trying way too hard to be snappy. The only thing he left out was prostitutes.

As a director, Miller is adequate, I guess. I mean, he isn't horrible, but his inexperience is evident. But The Spirit marks only his second directorial effort and his first venture into filmmaking by himself, so I guess that's to be expected.

Like I said, Miller chose to use the same visual style that he and Robert Rodriguez employed with Sin City, something I felt was off-putting. I mean, yeah, it worked wonders for Sin City. That was an awesome movie. But the same cannot be said for The Spirit. The style feels forced and just plain contrived. There's no real reason for it. To be perfectly honest, I thought it would have worked better had Miller ripped off Warren Beatty's adaptation Dick Tracy instead. That would have made The Spirit a lot cooler, if you ask me.

Miller also handled the writing duties and like a lot of his recent comic books, he left a lot to be desired. As I said before, it feels as if Miller was doing a parody of himself. The pseudo-noir dialogue is really cheesy, there's practically no character development at all, and the movie in general is pretty much nonsensical. Each scene feels like its own thing.

I mean, the whole thing is utterly preposterous. Why do Octopus and his sidekick keep showing up in different wacky costumes? What's with that whole bit where they're decked out in Nazi regalia and look as if they were doing a Third Reich version of the opening scene of Patton? Did the movie need a belly dancer named "Plaster of Paris" that badly? Why is this movie so chock full of nonsense? Why?! 

And I can't say that I understand the inclusion of the character played by Jaime King. King plays a siren-like personification of death that repeatedly calls out to The Spirit. These scenes didn't really serve any sort of greater purpose that I could see, beyond padding the movie time. They don't really add anything to the movie, and perhaps would have been better had they been left on the cutting room floor.

Miller's screenplay also includes some of the dumbest things I've ever seen in a movie. For example, look at the Octopus's gaggle of cloned goons (all played by Louis Lombardi). They're supposed to be comic relief, but there's nothing really funny about them. Miller's dialogue isn't that good either, with tired jokes and dumb one-liners that try to be cool and aren't. It's a shame, really. I mean, wasn't Frank Miller a good writer at one point? What happened?

The cast is watchable, but even the best actors couldn't elevate this material. It feels like they're slowly being dragged down into the mire even while they're trying their hardest. Gabriel Macht puts forth a silly yet amusing performances as our titular hero. Given the way the character is written, it's kinda hard to take Macht seriously. But you know what? He's a real trooper. He's fun and entertaining in spite of how stupid the movie gets sometimes, and it's actually a little bit better because of it.

As our villain, Samuel L. Jackson would have won the gold medal if overacting were an Olympic sport. Imagine the most over-the-top, outrageously hammy performance you've ever seen. Jackson runs circles around that in The Spirit. I mean, it's insane. Granted, practically every scene he's in involves something ludicrous, but Jackson cranks the lunacy up to eleven.

Playing Octopus's sidekick, the lovely femme fatale Silken Floss, is Scarlet Johannson. I can't say I was particularly impressed with her performance. Johannson's line deliveries were droll nearly to the point of being wooden, which only leaves her looks as a reason to pay attention to her.

The last of the movie's primary cast is Eva Mendes, who I didn't really care for either. Mendes's problem is that I felt she was simply trying too hard. She was trying to hard to be the cool, cunning sex kitten that she nearly became overbearing. After a certain point, I was just hoping the movie would just forget she was in it and go back to being goofy. 

The Spirit is not a good movie. It's actually pretty bad. But it's oddly charming, too. I don't quite know why, but the movie is so dumb, so unrelentingly, unapologetically bizarre, that I can't say I hate it. The truth is, as bad movies go, The Spirit is actually pretty fun. Dumb fun, but fun nonetheless. Oh, and Mr. Miller? If you so desperately wanted to make a comic book movie, I'd have rather you called Robert Rodriguez and made Sin City 2 instead. I'm just saying. 

Final Rating: **

Sin City (2005)

From Johnny Dynamite in the '50s to Ms. Tree in the '80s, hardboiled crime stories have been a part of the comic book world for quite some time. The style has even found its way into horror comics, as seen in DC's Hellblazer. However, that hardboiled noir style is most prevalent in Sin City, a series of stories created, written, and illustrated by comic book legend Frank Miller. First published by Dark Horse Comics in 1991, Sin City can be seen as a continuance of the dark, moody style that Miller used to save Daredevil from cancellation and cast Batman as a truly dark knight.

As one of the most influential writers and artists in the industry, one would figure that his work would have an effect on the cinematic adaptations of comic books. And in a way, he has. His depiction of Daredevil was carried over into that adaptation, and his influence can be seen in Tim Burton's two Batman movies. However, Miller withdrew from Hollywood, vowing to never let his own comics be adapted into a movie thanks to constant unwanted studio interference while he wrote the RoboCop sequels.

Enter Robert Rodriguez. A longtime fan of Miller's work, Rodriguez wanted to make a Sin City movie, but Miller refused to relinquish the movie rights. Rodriguez drafted Josh Hartnett and Marley Shelton to appear in a short "proof of concept" film based on the Sin City short story "The Customer Is Always Right," and Miller enjoyed it enough to allow production to get underway. With both Rodriguez and Miller as directors (along with Quentin Tarantino at the helm for one scene as a "special guest director"), the cinematic adaptation of Sin City was met with much fanfare when it hit theaters this past April. But is Sin City worth the hype, or is it just another case of a great comic getting adapted into a mediocre movie?

Our film is set in a fictional locale named Basin City, though its residents rarely refer to it by its given name, instead preferring its shortened form because it characterizes the city perfectly. Nearly everyone in power, from the politicians to the police to the city's religious hierarchy, are corrupt, and Sin City's citizens have become a jaded lot as a result. And in Sin City, hardly any crime is outrageous enough to shock or surprise anyone. As comic writer Mark Evanier once so eloquently put it, "When you live in Sin City, you can get shot fifty times, stabbed in the thorax, and have a few body parts chopped off. And then, if you're not careful, someone might try to kill you."

This wonderful little town is the setting for three interweaving episodes, each anchored around a particular male lead. The movie opens with the first half of the story titled "That Yellow Bastard," where we are introduced to John Hartigan (Bruce Willis). A detective pushing sixty and suffering from angina, Hartigan is an honest cop in a city where guys like him are few and far between. Before he settles into retirement, Hartigan wants to solve one last case and capture a serial-killing pedophile rapist named Junior Roark (Nick Stahl).

However, Hartigan's pursuit of Junior is complicated by Junior's family tree. The Roarks practically own Sin City, and his father (Powers Boothe) is a very powerful senator to boot. Junior has chosen eleven-year-old Nancy Callahan (Makenzie Vega) to be his latest victim, and despite the strength of the Roark family and the protests of his partner Bob (Michael Madsen), Hartigan has taken it upon himself to stop him before he can kill Nancy.

The next story is an adaptation of "The Hard Goodbye," in which we follow a hulking brute named Marv (Mickey Rourke). He's a wee bit lacking in the looks department, so when we first meet him, he's on Cloud Nine because a gorgeous woman named Goldie (Jaime King) has offered herself to him. They spend the night together, getting ripped to the gills and having sex. Unfortunately, Marv's happiness doesn't last too long. He and Goldie fall asleep, and Marv awakens three hours later to discover his companion dead, murdered.

It isn't very long until he hears police sirens, at which point he realizes that he's been set up, because not enough time has passed for anyone but Marv and her killer to know Goldie is dead. Marv flees, swearing revenge as a way to repay Goldie for the kindness she showed him. His search for Goldie's murderer leads him down a crooked path, passing his perpetually topless parole officer Lucille (Carla Gugino) on a collision course with Goldie's twin sister Wendy (King, in a dual role), the mute karate-trained cannibal Kevin (Elijah Wood), and a corrupt priest (Rutger Hauer) that is also part of the Roark family.

Our third tale, entitled "The Big Fat Kill," begins in the apartment of a frightened barmaid named Shellie (Brittany Murphy), where a drunken former fling is pounding at her door. Shellie is comforted by her on-again/off-again boyfriend Dwight McCarthy (Clive Owen), who tells her to let the man and his entourage in while he hides in the bathroom. She opens the door for the drunk man, Jackie Boy (Benicio Del Toro), who proceeds to smack Shellie upside the head before heading to the bathroom.

As Jackie Boy relieves himself, Dwight steps out from behind the shower curtain and puts a straight razor to his face, telling him that if he ever so much as thinks Shellie's name again, Dwight will make sure he regrets it. Jackie Boy and his crew take the hint leave, with Dwight following them to make sure they don't hurt anybody.

Dwight tails them to Old Town, Sin City's red light district. Police are only allowed in Old Town if they're off duty and looking for a good time, and the prostitutes that are in charge of the neighborhood are just as armed and dangerous as any army. While Dwight meets up with Gail (Rosario Dawson), one of Old Town's toughest residents, Jackie Boy begins accosting a young girl named Becky (Alexis Bledel). He repeatedly asks for her services and she repeatedly turns him down, telling him that she works the day shift and he should come back in the morning. Jackie Boy doesn't take no for an answer, threatening to shoot Becky if she doesn't get in his car.

And believe me, pulling a gun on a lady in Old Town just isn't kosher. Another hooker named Miho (Devon Aoki) leaps down from a rooftop above them, introducing Jackie Boy and his crew to the business ends of her swords and throwing stars. Dwight and the girls raid their pockets, and that's when Dwight makes a rather chilling discovery: a police badge in Jackie Boy's coat. He wasn't just some goon, he was a cop. Jackie Boy's death means the end of an uneasy truce between the mob, the police, and the hookers of Old Town, so Dwight agrees to dispose of the bodies before the cops discover what happened. A group of mobsters led by the one-eyed Manute (Michael Clark Duncan) has other ideas, kidnapping Gail while sending a team of Irish terrorists after Dwight.

The second half of "That Yellow Bastard" concludes the film, resuming some eight years after the events of the first half. Hartigan was framed for raping Nancy and left to rot in a jail cell for that whole time, only finding relief in the carefully disguised letters he receives from Nancy every week of his incarceration. Once the letters stop, Hartigan begins to fear for the worst, especially when a deformed man with yellow skin and disgusting body odor delivers an envelope containing a severed finger. Hartigan falsely confesses to raping Nancy so that he may be granted parole, and after a little investigative work, tracks her to a ragged saloon where the 19-year-old Nancy (Jessica Alba) is a rather popular dancer. But by the looks of it, I think Nancy went to one of those dance schools where they teach the strippers to leave their clothes on.

Regardless, Hartigan notices the yellow freak at a corner booth and realizes the finger was just a bluff so he'd lead him right to Nancy. Hartigan and Nancy hit the road, with their yellow pursuer hot on their trail. He confronts Hartigan after tracking the pair to their safe house, revealing himself to be none other than a grossly disfigured Junior Roark. He explains that his father went far outside the boundaries of conventional science to heal the injuries his son suffered during his last encounter with Hartigan, but his work resulted in some rather unsavory side effects. Junior hangs Hartigan and leaves with Nancy to finish the job he started eight years prior, but Hartigan survives and heads straight to the Roark farm to save the closest thing to a daughter he's ever had.

I have nothing bad to say about Sin City. Any complaints I have are simply minor at best. The visual effects are absolutely brilliant, and the movie looks so much like the comic, it's frightening. With the original comics as their storyboards, directors Rodriguez and Miller use a chiaroscuro style to resemble the source material, interchanging starkly contrasting lights and shadows to make it look similar to Miller's artwork, and everything about it looks outstanding.

With reenactments of frames from the comics to how the characters look and talk, everything is right out of the comics and I couldn't be happier. Even the movie's harshest critics have to agree that Sin City is one of the most faithful and literal comic book adaptations ever made. Style frequently outweighs substance in movies like Sin City, but Rodriguez and Miller give us a menagerie of heroes, villains, and antiheroes, with the stories being engaging and never growing boring.

The audience becomes immersed in the urban inequity that is Sin City, hearkening back to the old detective movies of the '40s and '50s, but with more bells and whistles. Filtered in with the black-and-white are flashes of color. We see the red of a dress or a woman's lipstick, the blonde of Goldie's hair, the blue or green of someone's eyes, the yellow of Junior's skin. And then there's blood. Buckets and buckets of blood. We see blood either as a translucent white, mustard yellow (in the case of "That Yellow Bastard"), or more frequently, its natural red. To borrow from another reviewer, one could use the old line "black and white and red all over" to describe Sin City, which I find to be a rather astute observation. One may be thrown off by all the stylized violence, but it can get so over-the-top that it actually becomes fun.

I'm also a believer in the idea that a good movie needs a good score. While the song "Cells" by British band The Servant may be most connected with Sin City thanks to its use in the movie's promotional campaign (and despite it sadly does not appearing in the movie), the movie possesses an excellent musical score composed by Rodriguez, with a little help from John Debney and Graeme Revell. The electro-infused blues score casts a brooding shadow over the film, with its use of saxophones and occasional dash of bongo drums evoking the genre's roots.

While I thought the dialogue was silly and borderline pretentious at times, it can be forgiven because it still manages to be entertaining. Besides, there are movies out there with worse dialogue, and this is a film noir anyway. A film noir without pretentious dialogue is like a Road Runner cartoon without Wile E. Coyote falling off a cliff. The script, written by God knows who (no writers are credited, though one can assume that it was penned by Rodriguez and/or Miller), presents us with quite a few fun moments and memorable lines straight out of the comics. I'd buy a copy of the screenplay if it were published, but I can just buy the comics instead.

I'd also like to commend the cast for doing a brilliant job. Each of the three male leads are superb, as are their supporting cast. With a star-studded film like this, one would think it would lapse into moments like, "Look, Bruce Willis! Now here's Jessica Alba! And how about that Elijah Wood? Remember him from Lord of the Rings?" But the movie is so engrossing, it becomes not an exercise in watching actors, but in watching characters. I will say that I enjoyed everyone, some more than others, but perhaps the brightest star in the cast is Mickey Rourke as Marv. I ended up enjoying "The Hard Goodbye" the most out of all the stories, and it was mainly because of him. Marv is easily my favorite character in the whole movie, all because of Rourke's performance.

I'd also like to give a big thumbs up to Elijah Wood, who gets as far away from Frodo as he can in his portrayal of Kevin. I'll actually go out on a limb and call Kevin the coolest villain since the T-1000 in Terminator 2 and Agent Smith from the Matrix trilogy. Wood doesn't have any dialogue, but he still manages to be unbelievably creepy, even downright scary at times.

Though I do wonder, in regards to the cast... am I the only one who thought Bruce Willis looks nowhere near as old has he should have been, or that Jessica Alba didn't look anywhere near as young as she should have been? And am I the only one who wasn't completely buying Clive Owen's American accent?

This is very much a Robert Rodriguez movie, and while one could make the argument that Frank Miller's directorial credit is merely honorary, the film is so faithful to his work that it only makes sense to list him too. In fact, Rodriguez was so adamant about giving Miller credit as a director that he had to quit the Director's Guild in order to do it (since the DGA only allows bona fide teams like the Wachowskis to receive co-director credits). No matter who gets credit as director, everyone involved should be proud of themselves for creating a true work of art.

If you're the kind of person that refuses to watch a movie that's in black and white, no matter how good it may be, you're really cheating yourself out of seeing one of the best movies of 2005. Roger Ebert said in his review, "This isn't an adaptation of a comic book; it's like a comic book brought to life and pumped with steroids." And you know what? He's correct. Sin City is a triumph of imagination and filmmaking, and is worth all the praise it gets. 

Final Rating: *****