worth thinking about

Rating: 7/10 (3 April 2005)

I've never read the graphic novels, so I can't comment on how the film relates to them, except in the sense of disjunction--this film doesn't feel like it holds together, as it has no unified story. Thus, it can get long and, as it is on screen rather than on paper, it would have benefited from more continuity in story as well as in feeling.
What it has, however, is a unified sensation--morality, if such a word fits in this world. The fact that the movie begins and ends with an assassin killing (or about to kill) a woman who (certainly in one case and probably in the other) has broken the rules and betrayed her sisters and the code of the city is significant. In a world in which sin touches every person, no one emerging unscathed, the definitions of right and wrong, good and evil, may blur but exist nonetheless. You have your evil rapists, your soul- and flesh-eating monsters, and you have those who kill to revenge a wrong or to protect a way of life that guarantees some degree of freedom. The thing is that all of these people enjoy the killing; in this world, you have to or are part of that small group that doesn't fit and is targeted or desperate because of it. You have those that aren't a part of it or who don't enjoy the violence--you have Nancy and Becky, the first someone to protect as much as possible, the second someone who doesn't fit, seemingly more "normal" yet also the biggest femme fatale--the biggest simply because those around her would never think it of her--of the story.
The movie is unapologetically violent and explicit, but that's the context of this world: it isn't gratuitous, it's characterization--innocence does not exist. The little girl Hartigan tries to save grows into a stripper--still targeted because she's different--who is not as hard as many of those around her but is still tainted by this world--she grew up strong, and in this city, that means, among other things, taking some part in the events we see. Goldie, idolized by Marv, is one of the band of hookers who run part of town--she seeks help and comfort but is by no means pure. Even Alexis Bledel's character, whose eyes glow in a pure blue and who, despite her profession, exudes innocence, ends up being the one who betrays the code, a darker sin in this city, no matter the reason--do we forgive her betrayal, understanding her desire to get out of this world, or, because no one escapes, do we condemn her? The color added to the depiction of these last two characters is striking and important, for they are in some way different, for better or for worse, and both end up dead, also significant. Here, innocence is scarce, weak, false, or nonexistent, and that, for me, is the most interesting part of the film. In the contrast between A) the powerful, evil villains, B) the gun-toting hookers and the testosterone-charged heroes, and C) the tainted innocents of the film is the point.
I'm still working out what that point is, but the film speaks, nonetheless. It's worth seeing, but it is disturbing and shocking in its grit--there's no romanticized beauty here--or what little there is is tarnished--but there's much to see.