‘The Crow’ review: A love story cut to shreds

Armed with sexy leads and a hacked-up script, this remake of The Crow never truly soars.

The Crow is a reboot/remake of the 1994 film starring Brandon Lee and, like the original, a direct adaptation of James O’Barr’s 1989 comic book series. You may only remember the 1994 film because Lee, martial arts legend Bruce Lee’s son, tragically died on set when a stunt with a prop gun went wrong. Surprisingly, this reboot is the fifth film in the franchise. The essence of the franchise’s legend is that the crow resurrects a male lover to avenge the death of his female lover, and he cannot die until his mission is complete. While the doomed lovers retain the same names in the remake, the actors and story are different (thankfully with no more rape).

Eric (Bill Skarsgård) and Shelly (FKA twigs) fall in love at an institutional rehab, which has its uniform designs modeled after Squid Game for some reason. When Shelly’s mom brings along guests for a visit, Shelly runs away because she knows that they are connected to Vincent Roeg (Danny Huston), a mysterious figure trying to eliminate those threatening to reveal the truth about his existence. Eric decides to help Shelly break out, but Vincent’s henchmen catch up with them and murder them. With guidance from Kronos (Sami Bouajila), Eric begins his quest to avenge Shelly in the hopes that he can rescue her soul, but will it be at the cost of his humanity?

Looks that kill.

Skarsgård men are generational acting staples. Bill is hot enough to look like the more-famous Alexander (The Northman), but stranger than his character-actor brother Gustav (Oppenheimer). He tends to be better than the movies than he is in, and The Crow is no exception. It’s as if everyone got in a room and brainstormed all the ways to ugly him up: horrible haircut, dyed hair, misshapen clothes, tons of tattoos, and grease paint that makes him look like he’s planning to overthrow Joaquin Phoenix as the next Joker. He still looks stunning when he drapes that trench coat around him or finds a plausible reason to go shirtless. God gave with both hands as the hard-bitten beauty still feels grounded. He goes on an emotional journey from numbness to joy while also being reborn as a confident killer that takes a while to get the hang of his homicidal quest.

Shelly is a poor little rich girl whose partying is a way to self-medicate after a disastrous encounter she had with Vincent. She’s the kind of person who just crashes in luxurious digs and has no practical concerns other than to be one step ahead of Vincent. FKA twigs is only appearing in her second feature role (her day job is making alt R&B) but don’t tell Saleka Shyamalan (Trap) because she’s actually a convincing actor. She makes a flawed character sympathetic, fragile, and otherworldly in her ability to enliven Eric. Though their relationship has the substance of a music video, the chemistry between the two works and the romance anchors the sensational supernatural premise. Warning to the ladies: if your lover kisses you through a gauzy curtain, you are going to die! Burial shroud in aisle one.

While too much prose dumping is unnecessary and eye-roll inducing, it felt as if all the actors were acting off a script that never made it onscreen. Only Sami Bouajila as Kronos, Eric’s guide to the underworld, offers enough emotional resonant gravitas and has appearances that seem complete enough to anchor the supernatural quest, but if anyone remembers the name of Eric’s friend and tattoo artist (Jordan Bolger, not his fault) who maybe appears in three scenes and could have been cut if body art was not so crucial to the plot, then they deserve a gold star. (The friend’s name is Chance.)

An unfinished fable.

The Crow’s flaw is that it feels unfinished as if it was overwritten and, to course correct, it hacked off too much from the sides with tons left on the cutting room floor (like Eric’s haircut). It’s a film of impressions and sketches, but not enough to cover its gaps. Cowriters Zach Baylin (Bob Marley: One Love, Creed III) and William Josef Schneider are not delivering consistent work. It’s possible that the narrative was well crafted, but the screenplay got butchered in production. Director Rupert Sanders (Snow White and the Huntsman) cannot be accused of dropping the ball on his third try. This iteration of the franchise evokes a strong atmosphere, especially in its underworld depiction of a watery, decaying train yard. Some of the underwater scenes felt reminiscent of Lynne Ramsay’s You Were Never Really Here, though Sanders should’ve skipped flashbacks of scenes already shown in the movie.

While most may not have rewatched the 1994 original in decades, it delivered an impression that lived forever because of the perfect soundtrack. It’s impossible to forget My Life With The Thrill Kill Kult’s “After the Flesh” scene in the drug den’s boardroom, with the gun firing acting like a strobe light effect to the extended shoot out. Instead of American electric industrial rock, this remake parallels an opera, “Robert the Devil,” which has origins in a medieval legend about a barren noblewoman who makes a deal with the devil to have a son. The opera performance on stage parallels with Eric’s rampage but is only theoretically satisfying thematically.

If you must do homework to understand a film instead of having a visceral reaction, then the gore can be unflinching and merciless but will still feel vaguely clinical in its approach instead of cathartic and satisfying. Without context, the opera is too oblique and heavy a lift for moviegoers without the knowledge to appreciate the reference and enhance enjoyment of The Crow. High art and popular media can mix, but the pairing has to make sense in a vacuum of ignorance. Also, a villain who loves to listen to classical music? Groundbreaking! Points for finding a way to throw Enya on the soundtrack and shout out French poet Arthur Rimbaud, but does it do anything to make The Crow into a more resonant watch? No.

The bottom line.

As far as reboots go, The Crow sticks the landing in terms of an ensemble cast and an atmosphere that bridges the gaps in the editing and the story, which renders the film too impressionistic to feel whole. Competing with Hollywood heavyweights like Alien: Romulus in theaters nowadays, you need to be better than dreadful to get butts into seats. Still, kudos to everyone for weaving a convincing romance worth dying (and killing) for in a cinematic era where nobody kisses each other or they have intense sex scenes. Animal lovers may want to arrive late to miss the opening scene.  

The Crow is now playing in theaters everywhere. You can watch the trailer here.

Images courtesy of Yellow Flower LLC and Lionsgate. You can read more reviews by Sarah G. Vincent here.