1 hour 24 minutes, USA/UK 1996
Director: Tim Pope; Producers: Edward R. Pressman and Jeff Most; Screenplay: David S. Goyer and James O'Barr; Photography: Jean-Yves Escoffier; Production Design: Alex McDowell; Editing: Michael N. Knue and Anthony Redman; Music: Graeme Revell.
Stars: Vincent Perez (Ashe Corven), Mia Kirshner (Sarah), Richard Brooks (Judah), Iggy Pop (Curve), Thomas Jane (Nemo), Vincent Castellanos (Spider Monkey), Thuy Trang (Kali), Eric Acosta (Danny), Ian Dury (Noah), Tracey Ellis (Sybil).
In 1994, a little gothic horror movie called The Crow suddenly became a massive box-office hit. The main reason behind this was most likely the cinema-going public's curiosity about the film because it's star, Brandon Lee (son of the legendary martial-arts master Bruce Lee) was shot and killed during an on-set accident. Had Lee lived, it is more than likely that The Crow would never have attained the heights that it subsequently reached. In truth, The Crow was nothing more than a revenge-western with a superb visual flair. It was a good film, but nothing more. However, such was it's success that the powers-that-be decided that there should be a sequel. So now we have The Crow: City Of Angels. Oh dear.
This film is, to quote another, more famous film reviewer, nothing more than a tired old rehash of the same story: a man is murdered alongside one of his loved ones by a gang of drug-crazed killers. A mystical crow, which acts as a link between the worlds of the living and the dead, resurrects the man to exact a bloody revenge on his killers. The man, now with supernatural powers, paints his face like a skull, dons a black leather cowl, sits astride a motorbike, and tracks down the gang members one by one, subjecting each of them in turn to a bizarre and violent death. The man's only friend is a mysterious young woman who believes in the power of the crow and guides him through his quieter moments of self-doubt and self-pity, until eventually all the baddies have been dispatched and the man can return to the afterlife in peace.
Vincent Perez, in his first English-speaking role after appearing such films as La Reine Margot and Cyrano De Bergerac, inherits the leathers from Brandon Lee and, to be fair, does as good a job as could have been expected of him, given the material. The problem lies in Perez's lack of screen presence. He is certainly handsome enough to be a leading man, and tackles the physical part of his role well, but he does not command the viewer's attention the way Lee did. Also, Perez seems to overact in places and, at times, his accent makes his lines unintelligible. Mia Kirshner, who was so good in Exotica, has virtually nothing to do in this film and is woefully underused. Veteran rocker Iggy Pop, an interesting choice as one of the lead baddies, exudes demented anger, and most definitely looks the part, but his delivery of lines is so bad as to be laughable. And Richard Brooks, as the leader of the drug-cult, is more likely to inspire sleep than fear.
Many of the scenes in City Of Angels are direct cut-and-paste jobs from the original movie, right down to camera angles and the movement of the actors; so much so that you get a feeling of deja-vu whilst watching it. In fact, the only differences between this and the previous movie are minor details: The Crow was set in Detroit, City Of Angels is set in LA; here, it is The Crow's son who is being avenged, rather than his wife; before, The Crow was a rock singer, here he is a mechanic; in the previous film, the companion was a child, here it is a twenty-something woman. Other than that the film is identical. A lot of this can be attributed to screenwriter David S. Goyer, whose adaptation of James O'Barr's comic book is downright atrocious. There is virtually no important dialogue, other than to link one fight scene to another, and characterisation is kept to the absolute minimum. The film's best features are it's visuals: camerawork by Jean Yves Escoffier, set design, lighting, and the like. Pop video director Tim Pope, making his feature debut here, recreates Los Angeles as a desolate, urban jungle, the darkness only punctuated by neon lights in sickly sulphuric yellow or fluorescent shocking pink. It is a Los Angeles of smoky freeways and litter-strewn alleyways and, actually, this is done very well. The gang's hideout is also very well constructed, with art director Alex McDowell adopting the currently in-vogue bondage theme in this setting. However, there are quite a few rather extreme sexual images dotted around the film, and the violence is unnecessarily excessive at times (with eyes seeming to be a favourite target area for inflicting pain). Pope seems to have spent much more time getting the look of the film right, and not bothering with other minor details like a story, a decent script and originality. I read somewhere that the makers of this film had been quoted as saying that "they made The Crow: City Of Angels in a way they think Brandon would have approved of." Somehow, I doubt it.
A film review by Jonathan Broxton 1996