Sin City is One Guilty Pleasure Trip!

Rating: 9/10 (6 May 2015)

In 2005, Robert Rodriguez and Frank Miller joined forces in an audacious synthesis - a triptych of film noir adapted from a series of graphic novels – to bring us a world where the villains are ineffably evil, the heroes are compromised, and the city is filled with corruption while mayhem and mischief run amok. The plot, having the direct-action vividness suitable for a video game, is ingeniously constructed in three labeled chapters – 'The Hard Goodbye', 'The Big Fat Kill' and 'That Yellow Bastard'. It takes us into the heart of the dark, grimy Basin City, where crime and depravity are a way of life, through three stories about heroes battling overwhelming odds that circle around each other, amplify each other, and ultimately intersect.
Sin City is a world of shadows, captured in beautiful arctic-white and inkblot-black visuals, where the sun never seems to rise. The makers send their heroes into such labyrinthine hells that it would have been depressing if it weren't so much fun. Frank Miller's potent black humor translates easily to the screen and lifts the often grim subject matter, keeping the film entertaining through the darkest of landscapes. Into this frenzied mix, Robert Rodriguez brings his own chromatic talents. He borrows Miller's panels in lighting and composition, but adds his own sense of timing and bits of color strategically disrupting the pristine black-and-white gloom. But what makes Sin City a gleefully gory gem is that the relentlessly dark story is balanced by visceral joy of pure noir storytelling. And, make no mistake, this is a dark movie. Aside from being black-and-white, it also features nothing but characters scraped off the underbelly of society - ex-cons, hookers, corrupt cops, general low-lives. Rodriguez drenches it in his usual monsoon of ironic, macho macabre, with his camera salivating over curves and cleavage of tough-dame females. But the strength of Mr. Miller's writing has always been his ability to give these bottom-feeders soul thanks to which Sin City exists precisely on the edge between exploitation and artistic statement, ultimately saving itself from toppling over with the sincerity of its tone, the beauty of its images, and the honor of its heroes.
In a film that reaches for the pulpy heights that Sin City does, a lesser cast would be lost, even invisible. But here surprisingly, the cast is neither a distraction nor an aberration. Everyone involved in Sin City not only understands this lurid universe but has a grand time playing in it, especially Mickey Rourke, who captures Marv's subterranean humanity beneath his snarling brutality, using his hungry, manic eyes that peek from behind his freakish disfigurement and Elijah Wood who is the definition of creepy as the mute cannibal Kevin.
Sin City is a gleaming pop revelation – an extremely stylish piece of crime drama that is relentlessly entertaining. For those with a penchant for pulp, Sin City is one guilty pleasure.