Redemptive Self-Immolation: "Sin City"
Finally got around to seeing Sin City on Saturday night. I arrived at the multiplex, tickets in hand thanks to FanDango, 30 minutes prior to the 10pm showing of Sin City - only to be greeted with throngs of people -- Originally only playing on one screen, the theater had to open 2 more to accomodate the madness. I really don't know what to make of this intensely graphic genre smorgasbord. Visually stunning it is, this postmodern rendition of the chivalric ethos. A lot of critics have noticed how it borrows from Pulp Fiction, which I agree with. Cognizant of this before actually going to see the film, I inadvertently went into this movie like a basset hound, sniffing for clues and resemblances to Tarantino's indefatigable classic.Back in graduate school when reading Joyce, I remember learning about the anti-hero, a primarily literary concept Sin City tirelessly exploits to its advantage. The anti hero is a character who
who lacks the attributes of the traditional protagonist or hero. The anti-hero's lack of courage, honesty, or grace, his weaknesses and confusion, often reflect modern man's ambivalence toward traditional moral and social virtues...has some of the personality flaws and ultimate fortune traditionally assigned to villains but nonetheless also has enough heroic qualities or intentions to gain the sympathy of readers or viewers. Anti-heroes can be awkward, obnoxious, passive, pitiful, or obtuse—but they are always, in some fundamental way, flawed or failed heroes...complex, even sympathetic, characters whose motivations are not inherently evil and sometimes even good.Simply put, if you're ever reading a book or watching a movie and asking yourself whether or not the ends justify the means - check again. You may enjoying a anti-hero piece: you'll know if you find the protagonist simultaneously repulsive and alluring.
Like Pulp Fiction, Sin City's narrative revolves around men whose own lives revolve around (and are jeopardized by) women - women, who like the protagonist in Kill Bill -- are at once rapaciously sexual, befriending, and predatory. As such, the film has no qualms about turning a male-oriented cosmos on its head and striking a chord with -- say -- a feminist-minded viewer who has up until then been assaulted with reams of hyperbolized misogyny. Nevertheless, women are for the most part marginalized from the secretive, conniving, and vengeance-obsessed world these men occupy, all of them in one way or another trying to save women who have already passed that gauntlet of redemption Tarantino's male heroes are endlessly striving to cross. Tarantino's style definitely colors this black-and-white homage to film noir, but if you're looking for another Pulp Fiction, you'll have to wait. Notwithstanding the brutal simplicity I think the directors are aiming to convey, the film's biggest flaw may be its often vacuous dialogue. The review the New York Times ran this weekend was keen on that:
The film feels as if it takes place under glass, which makes conceptual sense, since the characters don't bear any resemblance to actual life: they don't have hearts (or brains), so there's no reason they should have lungs or air to breathe. At the same time, Mr. Miller and Mr. Rodriguez's commitment to absolute unreality and the absence of the human factor mean it's hard to get pulled into the story on any level other than the visceral.Sin City as ur-Metropolis, then again, is supposed to be simple: men kill over women; crime is a sin qua non; and "good" and "evil" -- as culturally-assigned labels -- seem intrusive if not downright preposterous in their application ex post facto. The film works more or less on an archetypal level, and it from there which we must view it. That's just the way it has to be, because as with Tarantino's most pressing influence-- Martin Scorcese -- salvation, at once immeasurable and inexplicable to those watching, is attained at any cost.
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