Title: The Crow
Director: Rupert Sanders
Cast: Bill Skargard, FKA Twigs, Danny Huston, Josette Simon, Laura Birn, Sami Bouajila, Isabella Wei, Jordan Bolger
Where to watch: In theatres
Rating: ***
Rupert Sanders’ 2024 reboot of The Crow attempts to rise from the ashes of its predecessors, much like its feathered protagonist, but instead of soaring, it flutters aimlessly in a fog of aesthetic overindulgence and narrative missteps. It’s a film that desperately wants to be both a love story and a revenge thriller, but instead, it meanders like a lost pigeon in a rain-soaked alley.
The narrative propels after Eric (Bill Skarsgård), a man who meets the tragic end of his love story with Shelly (FKA Twigs) in a rehabilitation institution—a romance born out of shared tattoos, questionable life choices, and the kind of chemistry that seems more likely to result in an awkward morning after than an eternal bond. But alas, love blooms in the most unlikely places, until Roeg (Danny Huston), a centuries-old crimelord with a penchant for sending souls to Hell, crashes the party.
The plot is as dense as the eyeliner on Skarsgård’s brooding face, which, by the way, spends more time showing off his chiseled torso than expressing any genuine emotion. The film drowns in its gothic atmosphere, with rain-slicked streets and moody soundscapes providing the melancholic backdrop that might appeal to anyone harbouring a flair for the dramatic. Yet, amidst the gloom, the story trudges on, leaving little room for character development or coherent villainy.
Roeg, our supposedly terrifying antagonist, is more of a puzzle than a threat. He’s rich, he’s evil, he’s got a thing for pretty pianists, but his backstory is as vague as the mist that surrounds every shot. Why is he evil? Because he’s been around for centuries, obviously. But his powers? They seem to fluctuate based on what the plot needs at the moment, with no real explanation other than a vague nod to some devilish pact. It’s the kind of villainy that feels more at home in a poorly written comic book than in a film trying to pass itself off as a serious reimagining.
And then there’s Kronos, played by Sami Bouajila, who might as well be reading the script off a cue card for all the impact he has. He’s supposed to be a spirit guide, but his main role seems to be explaining the rules of the afterlife with the detached precision of someone just going through the motions.
The film’s big showdown at an opera house, where Eric hacks through Roeg’s endless supply of goons, is visually striking but ultimately hollow. It’s like watching a music video that goes on for far too long, where the bloodshed is more stylized than shocking, and the emotional stakes are as low as the soprano’s high notes.
Overall, the film aspires to be a deep, meaningful gothic drama but gets bogged down by its seriousness. Instead of soaring as a powerful tale of love and revenge, it falters, failing to take flight or to captivate.
