The Crow (2024) review

Dir. Rupert Sanders

By: Steve Pulaski

Rating: ★½

What a sorry month it’s been for anyone who, like me, frequents their local multiplex. Avid moviegoers have been raked over the coals this month whether it be a stylistically potent but otherwise baffling horror movie; a ridiculously butchered adaptation of a truly wonderful children’s series; or a disgraceful bastardization of a hugely popular video game series.

Now, we must also add a flummoxing, aggressively boring reboot of an exciting Gothic superhero series to the list.

The Crow has languished in development hell since 2008, and the litany of directors and writers once attached to the project is likely a mile-high and a mile-wide. Kudos to director Alex Proyas, the man behind the original Crow movie, who counteracted each and every reboot attempt as a way to preserve the legacy of the late Brandon Lee, who famously died in an on-set accident. The death of Lee only made the subtext of Proyas’ film, one predicated on death, mourning, and legacy, that much more poignant, further complemented by an aesthetic akin to a Gothic poem. It’s a brutally sad picture for many reasons, and quite honestly, never needed to be a franchise.

In this version, directed by Rupert Sanders (Ghost in the Shell), Bill Skarsgård assumes the role of Eric Draven, a recovering addict still scarred from brutally vivid memories of the death of his childhood horse and hostile home-life with an alcoholic mother. Eric meets and falls in love with Shelly (FKA Twigs) while in rehab, although Shelly is in there for conspicuous reasons. She’s taken refuge in the facility in order to stay clear of a supernatural billionaire named Roeg (Danny Huston); she took a secret video of his misdeeds, but got caught by the cops for drugs, hence her stint in recovery. Sure. Whatever.

Eventually, the two escape rehab. The film’s passage of time is made confounding thanks to lousy editing. It’s not clear whether Eric and Shelly mingle for days, weeks, or even months before they decide to break out. Despite their sorta-fugitive status, nobody appears to be looking too hard for them, leaving them free to drink and screw on their own terms. Roeg is the one who kills them both, but a curve-ball is thrown when Eric wakes up in a seedy train station where he meets Kronos (Sami Bouajila). Kronos explains to Eric that Shelly is going to hell, but it is he who can save her if he comes back to life and kills Roeg (who made a deal with the devil for his soul or some nonsense).

Adding Kronos into the storyline is completely unnecessary. His inclusion, and the fact that Eric revisits this purgatorial train station several times, significantly shortens the time we spend with the Crow. Worse, it slows the whole film down, and even at just a few ticks under two hours, it’s as if we see Eric truly embody the strengths of the Crow for a whole 20 minutes before it’s time to roll the credits.

Screenwriters Zach Baylin (Bob Marley: One Love) and William Schneider shamefully stifle the elegant simplicity and emotional power of James O’Barr’s comic series by overcomplicating it for no good reason. Its sense of time and its progression is all over the place, and things only get increasingly perplexing the more characters pause to try and explain what’s happening.

Bill Skarsgård was an ideal choice to lead the film, although that’s also the equivalent of telling someone they’d make the perfect skipper for the Titan submersible. Skarsgård’s ability to contort his body and thrust himself into physically demanding roles such as It has made him one of the most intense young actors working today. If only he was in a movie that liked him enough to allow him to freely operate as the Crow. Another monkey-wrench in the formula is despite the fact that he can heel, Eric feels all the pain he absorbs when he’s the Crow. It’s no slight on the performance, but it also isn’t much fun to see something exhilarating on-screen only for i to be followed by extended bits of Skarsgård writhing in pain.

Proyas’ film was brought to life with Gothic visuals and the dark touchpoints of graphic novels. In contrast, Sanders’ reboot is murky and ugly, oppressed by drab teals and blacks that bring down your mood rather than elevate the film’s. The soundtrack is a forgettable mixed bag of hard rock tunes, although I was delighted to hear Gary Numan’s “M.E.,” used to surprisingly great effect during a medium-length montage. I don’t quite remember the sequence, guiltily, but I remember it was the only time I smiled while watching The Crow.

The best of this movie exists in the first act, which devotes quite a lot of time to establishing the romance between Eric and Shelly. Skarsgård and FKA Twigs have chemistry, so we feel the pain of Eric when both are killed and he must avenge her death. But Baylin and Schneider’s insistence on overcomplicating the story with rote exposition and murky, stylistically bereft visuals prove this is a reboot for the birds.

My review of The Crow (1994)
My review of The Crow: City of Angels
My review of The Crow: Salvation
My review of The Crow: Wicked Prayer

Starring: Bill Skarsgård, FKA Twigs, and Danny Huston. Directed by: Rupert Sanders.