The Crow, adapted from the James O’Barr comic-book series, feels trapped within those pages—and that’s a good thing. Directed by Alex Proyas (Dark City), with cinematography by Dariusz Wolski, the movie has, above all, a distinct and unified vision of its world: dark, rainy, and askew, like Gotham on extreme tilt. It also has a tragic history: star Brandon Lee (son of Bruce) was shot and killed during filming in a prop-gun accident. The Crow was completed in the wake of his death, lending its story—of resurrection and revenge—an eerie, extratextual resonance. Lee plays Eric Draven, a goth rocker who witnesses a gang of hooligans rape and murder his fiance (Sofia Shinas) before he is shot and thrown out the window of their loft apartment. Returning from the dead with the help of a supernatural crow (the bird’s-eye shots, swerving amidst the dreary city, are an aesthetic highlight), Eric hunts down the attackers, as well as their sadistic crime boss (Michael Wincott). The narrative is standard payback stuff, some of it ugly. (The rape scenes in these movies almost always seem to be about the husband/boyfriend’s jealousy more than the woman’s suffering.) Yet The Crow’s singular style, while clearly drawing on the likes of Blade Runner and Tim Burton’s Batman, was potent enough to also influence later series such as The Matrix and John Wick. Indeed, Wick director Chad Stahelski served as Lee’s stunt double here. As for Lee, it’s impossible to know if he would have gone on to become a star, but he certainly shows promise, even amidst the cliches and corny dialogue. He has a calm, almost gentlemanly presence, as well as a flair for evocative gestures. At one point, closing in on one of his victims, he lets his head softly brush against a bare light bulb that’s hanging from a wire, almost like a caress. Lee gives this familiar figure of vengeance a soft, singular touch.
(6/15/2024)