Although any attempt to resurrect The Crow will be haunted by the memory of Brandon Lee, Rupert Sanders’ reimagining of this coveted gothic tale has a beating heart worthy of our gaze.
I want to preface this with the clarification that I was firmly in the camp of believing that a remake/reimagining (however you want to call it) would be disrespectful to the memory of Lee. Yes, the success of the 1994 film adaptation of James O’Barr’s comic series spurred multiple sequels–but there’s something that feels sacred about the character Eric Draven. The tragedy of Lee’s death bleeds into that of the story, with O’Barr even remarking that this accident felt like losing his fiancée all over again–a regret that intwines itself with this grim tale of grief and vengeance. Brandon Lee has been immortalized as Eric.
However, it was inevitable. Despite the groaning from fans across the web, this gothic anti-hero has come back from the grave. The film follows star-crossed lovers, Eric Draven (Bill Skarsgård) and Shelly Webster (FKA Twigs) who meet in a rehab facility. Infatuation is instant between this brilliantly broken pair and as soon as Shelly’s ugly past attempts to rear its ugly head, Eric dives headfirst into a commitment to protect her. The two flee their confinement and begin their lives together. But their lives are cut short when the two are executed by the crime boss who has been on Shelly’s scent. Eric, whose soul is unable to rest, returns to avenge Shelly’s death and save her from a hellish fate.
Although it seems impossible to detach The Crow from the iconic 1994 film, Sanders and writers Zach Baylin and William Schneider were set on bringing a more faithful adaptation to screen while also steering away from rehashing the Eric that is burned into public memory–and although that may elicit grief in those who mourn the Eric they hold dearly, I believe this is how the film attempts to preserve Lee’s memory, to have their cake and eat it too.
Instead of a tale of angst and vengeance, audiences are treated to a fervent romance before the onset of violence. Originally depicted within the cold open, the death of Eric and Shelly is reserved for the end of the first act, allowing us to become more acquainted and understanding of the love that existed between the two. Not only does this set the film apart from its predecessor, but it creates the opportunity for the audience to peel away the layers of Skarsgård’s version of this troubled figure. It becomes easy to see how someone so lost in the world can find home in someone they see as a kindred spirit. While part of the brilliance of Alex Proyas’s film, and Brandon Lee’s depiction of Eric, was being able to communicate all of this with only small vignettes of their lives before the tragedy, the romance here is alluring and exciting. We can fully experience Eric’s loss of Shelly and readily dive into the brutality to come.
This exploration of Eric, and more importantly Shelly as a full person rather than just a motivating symbol, comes at the expense of our bad guys–which is realistically what steals some of the satisfaction away from the film. There is an expansive mythos being teased in The Crow. Eric bargains with Kronos (Sami Bouajila), a guide in the abandoned rail yard in which Eric finds himself–a transitory realm for restless souls. Shelly and her friends have been hunted by a crime lord, Vincent Roeg (Danny Huston), with confusingly demonic abilities–somehow tipping a story about a man resurrected from the dead in pursuit of vengeance into the realm of “too supernatural” for most viewers. But Roeg and his various henchmen are simply uninteresting and lack the personality and charisma that helped drive forward the original film’s various killings. Instead, Eric is up against a reserve of generic goons.
Although there are moments throughout that are without a doubt visceral, the symphony of gore is left for the final act. There is a playfulness missing from this new rendition, and Skarsgård’s Eric is much more reluctant and tortured by his mission. However, once he fully embodies what it takes to save Shelly, he beautifully waltzes around the film’s finale as the violence crescendos–but it is a labor of love to get to the end of his journey.
Like Eric and Shelly, you have to be willing to give yourself wholly to this film. As a hopeless romantic and avid Skarsgård fan, I cannot help but admit that this film won my affection. With a visual style that stands apart from its predecessor, The Crow delivers an experience that is half gothic romance, half action-horror.
It has its faults, but The Crow deserves a chance.
Siren Death Cult 