With co-directors Robert Rodriguez and Quentin Tarantino, Frank Miller achieved success in revolutionising the comic-book genre through the stunning Sin City. This masterful piece of filmmaking blended the dark, noir-esque narrative of Miller's comic with abstract, stylish visuals and a fantastic cast, thus establishing firmly Frank Miller's status as one of the new legends of Hollywood. Unfortunately, said status may have been dashed forever due to one of the most unsatisfying, catastrophically misjudged films of recent times. This is The Spirit.
Miller's first solo outing actually begins rather well. Following a mysterious shot of a provocative, girating woman claiming to be the figure of 'death', we are introduced to Denny Colt (newcomer Gabriel Macht) whom we learn is a talented young cop who has returned from the dead as an immortal vigilante known as The Spirit, and whose sole duty it is to protect the city of his birth. Through the opening credits we are presented with the visually-arresting elements that made Sin City so striking (sudden switches to negative, isolation of red objects against black and white surroundings etc), not to mention an impressive collection of names including Samuel L Jackson aka 'the man-who-can-do-no-wrong' (until now) and renowned beauties Scarlett Johannson and Eva Mendes.
Unfortunately, however, it's all down-hill from here. The first key scene involves The Spirit, whilst investigating a shooting in a swamp, coming face-to-face with nemesis The Octopus (Samuel L Jackson), whose evil intentions are as muddy and unclear as the mire in which the pair battle. Jackson is utterly wasted, unable to showcase his talents in such a clumsily shot, badly-scripted mess. Instead he is reduced to popping up behind Macht like a pantomime villain, attacking him with a toilet seat and generally turning the film into more of a farce than it could be thought possible. Indeed, the entire film has the feel of a school play, combining wooden acting, hammy dialogue ('I'm gonna kill you all kinds of dead'), an incomprehensible stroyline and pathetic attempts at comedy - The Octopus' inept henchmen clones (Louis Lombardi) claiming the crown for most irritating and cringingly unfunny characters of any film of the past decade. In fact the only commendable contribution to The Spirit is, surprisingly, the lead man himself, the virtually-unknown Gabriel Macht. His role may be one-dimensional and void of any real emotion, but it is entirely suitable for the story, echoing the deadpan characteristics of the Batman prototype.
However, if Samuel L Jackson could not save The Spirit, Macht's valiant attempt is hardly going to make an impact. In the end, the widely acclaimed graphic novel by Will Eisner is dragged mercilessly through the mud by Miller's clear ineptitude as a solo director. His distinctive visual style is poorly utilised next to Sin City, which makes his solo failure appear all the more humiliating. While Jackson's Octopus attempts to provide an antagonist for The Spirit, it is Miller who ultimately winds up the villain of the piece. Once heralded as a rising star, this hideous mess may already have hammered the last nail into his coffin. His heart may have been in it, but his spirit has long since departed. 1.5/10
Miller's first solo outing actually begins rather well. Following a mysterious shot of a provocative, girating woman claiming to be the figure of 'death', we are introduced to Denny Colt (newcomer Gabriel Macht) whom we learn is a talented young cop who has returned from the dead as an immortal vigilante known as The Spirit, and whose sole duty it is to protect the city of his birth. Through the opening credits we are presented with the visually-arresting elements that made Sin City so striking (sudden switches to negative, isolation of red objects against black and white surroundings etc), not to mention an impressive collection of names including Samuel L Jackson aka 'the man-who-can-do-no-wrong' (until now) and renowned beauties Scarlett Johannson and Eva Mendes.
Unfortunately, however, it's all down-hill from here. The first key scene involves The Spirit, whilst investigating a shooting in a swamp, coming face-to-face with nemesis The Octopus (Samuel L Jackson), whose evil intentions are as muddy and unclear as the mire in which the pair battle. Jackson is utterly wasted, unable to showcase his talents in such a clumsily shot, badly-scripted mess. Instead he is reduced to popping up behind Macht like a pantomime villain, attacking him with a toilet seat and generally turning the film into more of a farce than it could be thought possible. Indeed, the entire film has the feel of a school play, combining wooden acting, hammy dialogue ('I'm gonna kill you all kinds of dead'), an incomprehensible stroyline and pathetic attempts at comedy - The Octopus' inept henchmen clones (Louis Lombardi) claiming the crown for most irritating and cringingly unfunny characters of any film of the past decade. In fact the only commendable contribution to The Spirit is, surprisingly, the lead man himself, the virtually-unknown Gabriel Macht. His role may be one-dimensional and void of any real emotion, but it is entirely suitable for the story, echoing the deadpan characteristics of the Batman prototype.
However, if Samuel L Jackson could not save The Spirit, Macht's valiant attempt is hardly going to make an impact. In the end, the widely acclaimed graphic novel by Will Eisner is dragged mercilessly through the mud by Miller's clear ineptitude as a solo director. His distinctive visual style is poorly utilised next to Sin City, which makes his solo failure appear all the more humiliating. While Jackson's Octopus attempts to provide an antagonist for The Spirit, it is Miller who ultimately winds up the villain of the piece. Once heralded as a rising star, this hideous mess may already have hammered the last nail into his coffin. His heart may have been in it, but his spirit has long since departed. 1.5/10
