Nearly a decade after Frank Miller’s groundbreaking visual spectacle Sin City literally blasted his iconic graphic novel off the pages and onto movie screens everywhere, the illustrator/comic book writer and his filmmaking accomplice Robert Rodriguez are inviting audiences to return to the municipal murk and seedy society of Miller’s creation for another collage of violent, darkly humored tales of the night with their sequel subtitled A Dame to Kill For.
Though Dame does deliver a thin thread of a theme—the tension between power and restraint, revenge and forgiveness winds its way sneakily though each section of the film—and the classic film noire concept of the city holding darkest of hearts seeps into every scene, the invitation may be four or five years too late.
While the chards of these stories are about as thrilling in their Tarantino-like-anything-goes-way as everything found in the first film, and Dame even finds more to scoff at here—including a frat boy-baiting intro with Mickey Rourke as on-the-prowl brawler Marv defending a homeless man from an onslaught of drunken trust fund babies and a Christopher Lloyd cameo worth the price of admission—after such a long wait, it is difficult not to hope for, and even expect, something radically new.
There’s a time and place for “more of the same,” and 9 years later just isn’t it.
About the only thing new in the film are a few of the faces (Rourke’s included, because, seriously, he needs to stop going under the knife). Jamie Chung has replaced Devon Aoki (who retired from acting) as samurai slinger Miho, Dennis Haysbert has replaced the late Michael Clarke Duncan as steel-bodied henchman Manute, and, most notably, Josh Brolin has replaced Clive Owen (who had a scheduling conflict with his new Steven Soderbergh-created show The Knick) as good-hearted roughneck Dwight. These subs are all decent, though not strong enough to help audiences overcome the awkwardness that always exists with recasting.
Better are the new characters added into this salty mix, especially Joseph Gordon Levitt’s cocksure card player Johnny who quickly runs afoul of returning baddie, the sinister Senator Roark (a snarling Powers Booth), and has his run of luck severely tested.
But this film isn’t called Johnny’s Revenge, and as soon as she appears on screen in a sweeping slow-motion and color-drenched entrance, it is obvious who this film belongs to: Eva Green. She of tempting physique and smoky voice, Green makes for the perfect femme fatale (see also Casino Royale and 300: Rise of the Empire) as demented rich wife Ava Lord. Clearly Miller agrees. Many of the film’s more fantastical visual flourishes bloom around Green’s pin-up body.
Much was made of Rodriquez’s pursuit of Angelina Jolie for the role of Ava, and Jolie’s reluctance caused the sequel’s first delays, but he needn’t have worried. Green is captivating and infuriating, hilarious and frightening, and boy is she fatale to Brolin’s wounded warrior who crawls back to her seductions only to become a pawn in her power scheme.
Unfortunately, though his early voice-overs provide the film with some wickedly hard-boiled commentary, Rourke is reduced to muscle-for-hire here, rather than the more cerebral detective type he played in 2005. And of course Jessica Alba is, predictably, still not a very talented actress, making her sections, even when filled with the ghostly specter of Bruce Willis, really drag in comparison to the much more compelling Eva Green/Josh Brolin stand-off storyline.
More of the latter and less rehashing of Alba’s grief over Willis’ death would have made a stronger case for this sequel; a film that could have used the addition of a fresh, more unexpected villain than Boothe’s reprise and also given Rourke a little more meat than gristle for his formidable jaws to chew.
Still, if you’re a fan of comic book action and playfully twisted gangster and cop tropes told through mesmerizing, inky and surreal visuals, there’s nothing quite like Sin City: A Dame to Kill For, except for the original, which is exactly like it.
