The Crow is one of those movies that seem really cool when youâre a teenager but are quickly revealed to be garbage once you hit adulthood, or so popular opinion would have us believe. 25 years after its release, the film that inspired many a young man to don a trench-coat and eyeliner (including, in one of the showâs better jokes, South Parkâs Satan character) appears veryâŠof its time. This one, unlike any other, is nineties as all hell, like a Nine Inch Nails music video stretched to 90-odd minutes only with way more guitar solos. But, much like Trent Reznorâs scuzzier works, the movie isnât without its dark charms either.
Critic-hater Alex Proyas (Gods of Egypt was a masterpiece, damn it!) actually does a fine job of adapting the comic-book on which the film is based, with several shots seemingly transposed right from page to screen â watch how Eric Draven slowly climbs a ladder in the rain, the tracking shot moving gloriously up with him. The fact the movie is simultaneously super pulpy, violent, emo, and earnest â an interesting combination in itself for a story about some sappy dude coming back from the dead, dressing in leather, and offing those who have wronged him â is kind of a miracle in a world where weâre expected to take Tony Stark and his time travel calculations deadly seriously.
The (under)world created by Proyas and DOP Dariusz Wolski (who also shot the moody Sweeney Todd, as well as Eminemâs rain-soaked âStanâ video), taken from James OâBarrâs cult comic series, is incredibly evocative and well-realized â even if the VFX have aged in the intervening years (the bird still looks decent, at least at first). Although the action takes place in Detroit (the city is never mentioned by name), itâs easy to imagine Eric Draven kicking ass just a short walk away from Batman & Robinâs neon-sporting, punk rock no-goods, or even the lair of Tim Burtonâs Penguin in Batman Returns, released just two years previous (that film looks positively upbeat and hopeful in comparison â people have actual jobs in it).
The Crow is dark, in every sense of the word (is it ever daylight?) and its unnamed, crime-ridden central location is a place nothing good ever seems to happen (whoâs brave enough to ride that overground subway car at night anyway!?). Early on, the question of who gets married on Halloween comes up (side note: me), but the decision to do so makes complete sense in a world where everybody is a product of their environment, for better or worse. Why not tie the knot on the spookiest day of the year when everything around you is crumbling and even venturing outside is taking a massive risk?
The only spark of hope comes from Rochelle Davisâ plucky Sarah, whose voice-over, although hokey and borderline unnecessary at times, fits within a story that feels a little like an angry teenâs LiveJournal entry come to life. Darla and her hotdog-eating buddy, Ernie Hudsonâs beleaguered cop, are the only bright sparks but even their lights threaten to get extinguished in the harsh reality of life in a city run by hoodlums and psychopaths. Wisely, Ericâs return doesnât fix everything, rather it exposes the placeâs rotting heart. Itâs up to characters like Darlaâs neglectful mother to figure out how to do better, instead of expecting things to change for them.
Eric Draven is no superhero, but his influence is keenly felt in everything from The Matrix â all-black outfits, big guns, boots, trench-coats, endless philosophizing about the meaning of life â to Queen of the Damnedâs Lestat, who is basically just Draven in even less clothing and backed up by a better band (seriously, Ericâs band must have sucked â their promo image looks like the Goo Goo Dolls). Even Heath Ledgerâs Joker, with his smudged face-paint and lanky hair, has a touch of Dravenâs Crow to him, albeit more manic and less sexy (The Crow is still very sexy, just FYI).
Proyasâ film is very 90s grunge/goth, like the weird rust on a Nine Inch Nails album cover. Hell, even Reznor himself could be seen to have dressed like Eric Draven at one point in his career. Nine Inch Nails appear on the soundtrack for the movie, covering a Joy Division song no less, while The Cure contribute a track that they reportedly donât remember recording. Much of the movie plays out like a music video cut scene, with characters flitting from location to location in ever more outlandish outfits. Two bands perform live, both wildly eccentric. Music flows through the filmâs veins, but itâs never the focus, always emphasizing rather than taking away.
The Crow is messy, introspective, and rough around the edges, but weâre getting a glimpse into this world over Ericâs shoulder, so its loose structure and on-the-fly shooting style make a certain amount of sense. Remarkably, the movie doesnât carry the stench of re-shoots or body doubles because its focus remains at a respectful distance. Even when the camera does hang behind Draven, itâs oddly fitting. Real explosions, which always look better than their computer-generated counterparts due to their innate imperfections, ensure the ever present (and reportedly very real) danger is felt. And, considering how freezing it clearly was on location, itâs a wonder poor Brandon Lee didnât succumb to hypothermia rather than the real bullets that would accidentally kill him.
Leeâs presence looms large over the movie, even when itâs probably not actually him in the shot. Beetlejuice is often criticized for not having enough of Michael Keaton in the titular role, so itâs funny Leeâs Crow is more present given the actor wasnât physically there for much of the shoot. Whether this should be attributed to the strength of the late starâs performance, or the skill in establishing his character so audiences wouldnât notice the joins, is arguable. The point is, Eric Draven is definitely the star of The Crow, whether thatâs really him bashing out moody guitar licks on the top of a skyscraper or not.
The movieâs other looming presence is Michael Wincottâs super-goth villain, Top Dollar. The actor recently appeared in TVâs Westworld, as a piano-playing southern gent, which is in stark contrast to the horrifying lunatic he plays here. Top Dollar is an interesting foil for Eric Draven, because heâs cold, calm, and emotionless. His death almost doesnât register, so wide-ranging is his influence. Top Dollar is more symbol than man, which is useful because his moniker is kind of silly for such a scary dude. Horror Icon Tony Todd shows up in a small role as one of his business associates, because of course he exists in this world, and itâs a shame he isnât given more to do here because the two play well off each other. Todd is such a pro he couldâve occupied the Bai Ling role and it wouldâve ruled. Still, better some Todd than no Todd at all.
The Crow posits the idea that nothing is trivial, but watching it again as a grown woman, as opposed to a horny, sullen little teenager, I canât help wondering whether everything is actually this meaningful? The cynical side of me thinks Eric Draven is a bit of a sap, and that the action should really be focused on Top Dollar, who has his own weird sex appeal. But the parts of me that unabashedly love Queen of the Damned canât help but get swept up in all the eyeliner, leather pants, and violence. The Crow is so stylish and so particularly of its time, itâs kind of impossible to resist its charms, even when acknowledging how downright ludicrous most of what happens actually is.
Taken purely as it is, Eric Dravenâs story is a sadly simple one. The fun comes from how good he looks taking revenge, rather than the revenge itself. Thereâs a poetic element to Lee dying midway through shooting, of course, but if thatâs the only thing you remember about The Crow, then give it another watch âcause itâs genuinely worth it. If nothing else, the soundtrack is still loaded with bangers and itâll transport you back to a time when Detroit probably didnât really look like that (as opposed to now, when itâs routinely the setting for post-apocalyptic stories). It canât rain all the time, but weâre probably going to brood regardless. And look good doing it.