"CATCH YOU FUCKERS AT A BAD TIME?"

Posts Tagged ‘Dariusz Wolski’

The Crow (30th anniversary revisit)

Thursday, May 16th, 2024

On May 13, 1994, Johnny Carson was on Late Show with David Letterman, his final televised appearance. Times were rolling on, guards were changing. That same day Miramax, an indie studio recently purchased by Disney, had their biggest opening ever with a bitter R-rated comic book adaptation. While boomers were preparing to commemorate the 25th anniversary of Woodstock, here was a movie with a soundtrack full of Lollapalooza bands, their names underlined on the poster, above a 1-900 number you could call “for music CD preview.” That particular demographic hadn’t really been cinematically catered to so directly, and they showed up, as did others. It was even well reviewed by critics, who were unlikely to be comic book nerds or Nine Inch Nails fans in those days.

Now THE CROW is 30 years old, further in our past than Woodstock was at the time. Jesus christ, man. I wrote a review of it 15 years ago. Time flies when you’re getting old, I guess. In 1994 this movie seemed amazing and important – it not only felt so new in its style, but was part of a collective mourning and/or discovery of this exciting actor who had lost his life making a movie about losing his life. Maybe I was falling for the ads asking us to “EXPERIENCE THE MOVIE EVENT OF THE YEAR” and “Take the journey. Experience the phenomenon.” But I went solemnly into a dark theater, the movie washed over me, I could just feel it more than think about it. Watching it now it’s more a movie I find interesting than a movie I can love. But I don’t mind that it’s style over substance. That’s why it works. Evocative imagery and effusive, unexamined emotion – that’s what goth is about, as far as I can understand. That’s what being a teenager is about. I used to be one of those. (read the rest of this shit…)

Dark City

Thursday, February 10th, 2022

One night an amnesiac (Rufus Sewell, EXTREME OPS, JUDY) wakes up confused in the bath tub of a gloomy hotel in a gloomy city. The phone rings and some Peter-Lorre-sounding weirdy (Kiefer Sutherland, RENEGADES, MIRRORS) tells him he needs to get out of there because someone’s coming for him. Then he notices the dead lady with the spirals carved into her. Shit!

In the tradition of such films as FEAR IN THE NIGHT (1947) and NIGHTBREED (1990), Murdoch is unsure if he’s really a murderer. But we’ve seen stories like this before, so we figure he’s not. And it’s pretty clear that something unusual is going on here when the people the guy on the phone was warning about show up. They’re not cops, but “The Strangers,” a group of mysterious, pale, bald dudes in black coats and fedoras like a gang of Detective Nosferatus. They move strangely, have odd facial expressions and are a range of heights that make them look interesting walking around together. I’ll try to list them from tallest to shortest: (read the rest of this shit…)