Frank Miller & Robert Rodriguez’s ‘Sin City’ (2005)

12Feb09

I couldn’t do it. I made it to 1:26 and I had to stop it. I was annoyed, repulsed, and just plain bored. Of course, the film is a beautifully rendered, completely unique blend of film and graphic novel, and I thought that I could watch all 126 minutes of Sin City just to see the cinematography, make-up, and effects. But ultimately I just didn’t have the desire to slog through any more glorified violence, victimized women, and gratuitous female nudity.

I made it through Josh Hartnett and Marley Shelton: fine. Bruce Willis: whatever. Mickey Rourke: jesus, will this ever end? Clive Owen, Rosario Dawson, and all the gun-toting hookers managed to get my attention because the story was actually something different and interesting. And Clive Owen and Rosario Dawson are hot. There are very few actors whose physical beauty distract me while I’m watching them act, but Clive Owen is one of them. And he looks so boyish and sexy with the long bangs in his eyes. I got to the scene where the hookers are shooting the hell out of the mobsters, and I thought, “Good. It’s near the end and I like the end.” But then fuckin’ Bruce Willis shows up again. And I realized there were 40 minutes left.

I mean, what the fuck? How is it that all the men in this movie are like fuckin’ Rasputins and the women die if they’re stabbed with a thumbtack? And I don’t think that having empowered female characters, namely bad-ass hookers with arsenals, excuses Miller and Rodriguez from all of the weak, victimized women and needless naked lady-ness. And I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the empowered women are hookers to justify more semi-naked lady-ness.

And the lesbian dies. No, wait, she is mostly naked, naked and maimed, and then she dies.

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