As I battle the flem rising to take over my throat, I stumbled on this little piece on Fametracker about Sin City. Right on the money for the most part.
Admittedly, I've been meaning to write a post in response to Shasta's regarding the movie. Frankly, I loved the hell out of it. But I love dark, demented, evil shit. Which contrasts nicely with me being a mostly good girl.
It's a good pulpy, noir-ish movie that remains faithful to the comic book (which is a dark, evil and very interesting to look at). One quick thing in defense of comic books -- not all of them have pneumatic babes and evil shit. Many comic book artists such as Harvey Pekar take everyday life and elevate it in an artistic form. Like any book, it's just a matter of finding the right writing, topic and style for a person.
Back to Sin City -- it reminded me a lot of the old detective novels by Mickey Spillane where the men are unapologitcally macho and the women are well, "dames." I didn't mind it as much, because Sin City's got that same style. It's like I can't be pissed off at a bodice ripper for having "turgid maleness."
Each vignette (much like Pulp Fiction) was dark, but had a strange redemptive edge in the end. Marv was an avenging angel that eliminted two evils, Hartigan kept his promise to skinny Nancy Callahan that she'd always be safe and Rosario Dawson and Clive Owen rocked the house and kept the Mafia and pimps out of Old Town.
Speaking of which, I have to admit, I didn't see the appeal of Clive Owen before, but now, after the rough and dirty edge, I do see why people swoon over him. If he's not James Bond, I'm going to smack someone stupid.
Oh, Elijah Wood successfully shed the sweet Frodo image in this movie. I had dreams about him two days later that creeped the hell out of me. The man's got a good career as a character actor coming his way.
1 comment:
it's spelled phlegm. yay, Greek.
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