Sin City is utterly amazing

Rating: 10/10 (11 April 2005)

"Walk down the right back alley in Sin City and you can find anything." These are the brick-breaking words that kick off The Hard Goodbye, the first of three dark tales that make up Sin City, the latest outing from legendary director Robert Rodriguez, based upon the graphic novels by Frank Miller, who also serves as co-director. What is truly remarkable about this quote, though, is what the audience finds. Amidst the shadowy underworld of crooked cops, vigilante hookers and twisted murderers where Sin City takes place, a great film can be found, one that is visually astonishing, brazenly acted, gloriously directed and totally original.
The film, which combines three of Miller's books (The Hard Goodbye, The Big Fat Kill and That Yellow Bastard), is actually an elaborate conglomeration of multiple stories, all about one story. Through the eyes of several extraordinary characters, ranging from the innocent and tormented to the deranged and sadistic, the audience is plunged into a seamy world where the bad go badder and the good go bad-ass.
The three stories follow three disparate men, each on a quest for retribution, redemption, or a little bit of both. Marv (Mickey Rourke), a hulking lug of a guy with a short temper and an even shorter attention span, is on the run from the law after being framed for the murder of Goldie (Jaime King), a beautiful prostitute he falls in love with after one night. Dwight (Clive Owen), a reformed killer with everything to prove and even more to lose, is on a mission to save the sultry and sexy girls of Old Town, Sin City's hooker point, particularly his ex-flame, Gail (Rosario Dawson), from Manute (Michael Clarke Duncan), a ruthless and evil dictator, after an incident with a sex-craved maniac named Jackie Boy (Benicio Del Toro) sparks an all-out war. John Hartigan (Bruce Willis), a seasoned cop, beaten down by a bum ticker and thoughts of retirement, is hot on the trail of Junior (Nick Stahl), a fluorescent-colored freak-show of a pedophile, who is out to get revenge on Hartigan by murdering Nancy Callahan (Jessica Alba), a girl Hartigan saved from Junior eight years earlier. The film also features a short segment entitled The Customer is Always Right, featuring Josh Hartnett and Marley Shelton.
What is utterly outstanding about the film itself is its absolute devotion to its source material. Rodriguez has not so much created an adaptation of Frank Miller's bookssuch as Sam Raimi has done with Spider Man and Guillermo Del Toro has done with Hellboybut has fashioned a literal translation: What you see in the comics is what you see on the screen. Each and every panel in the book serves as a storyboard for each and every frame in the film. Even the coloring of the booksa desolate landscape of black and white that is enhanced with light patches of color here and thereis accurately displayed, from the emerald blue eyes of Alexis Bledel's stunning Becky, to the grimy yellow skin of Nick Stahl's "Yellow Bastard", as well as the gallons of red blood that pump out of the characters at, seemingly, every moment of the film. It is a huge undertaking that, at first, seems gimmicky, but quickly surpasses the "Ooh-ah" factor and lures the audience into a story that is equally fascinating and compelling. In order to achieve this feat, Rodriguez shot the entire movie against green-screen with only the actors in the foreground, which allowed him to add the props, backgrounds and color effects in post-production. This all-the-more enhances the dramatic and emotional aspects of the books, because it allows the performances and Miller's gripping narrative to come first. All-in-all, this is film noir at its gritty and gory best.
Of the three main performances, Clive Owen's is the most resounding. His portrayal of an honest man with a shady past, desperately struggling to reclaim his existence by doing the right thing, rings true for anyone who has ever tried to fight back. Mickey Rourke gives a bravura performanceand makes a well-deserved comebackas Marv, and is able to bring an inner turmoil that inspires sympathy and remorse to an otherwise big and bad lout of a character. Bruce Willis turns in another knockout performance as Hartigan, a man who battles whatever evil lurks about and wrestles to make the neighborhood a better place, despite the fact that his body is telling him to turn in and clock out. The lovely ladies of Sin City also give impressive performances. Jessica Alba becomes the graceful and child-like epitome of every man's dream as Nancy. Rosario Dawson makes Gail a tough-as-nails force to be reckoned with, finally shaking the role of "the girlfriend". Though her role as Goldie is short-lived, Jaime King gives the audience a lasting impression as a woman trying desperately to find love and re-birth in the face of her occupation (Watch for the moment where she is reunited with Marv in the form of her twin sisterit's enough to bring tears to your eyes).
It is easy for the audience to wonder what the point of Sin City is. Is it purely for them to watch in wide-eyed amazement at the look of something that has never been seen before? Is it merely for them to be drawn into a seedy world that could possibly serve as a model for modern society? Or perhaps it is simply to exist as the greatest comic-book-turned-movie ever made. The point is this: There is no justice without sin. Through Sin City and its inhabitants, the audience is forced to confront their own demons and face their worst fears of vice, lust and loneliness. It is a point that scars with brutal poignancy and resonates with raw veracity. Despite the roughness and the violence, Sin City is a righteous film, and it wouldn't have it any other way.