Seeing as it's almost midnight, I'll forgo any sort of broad statement before moving on to the specifics. Let's just get this over with, because the more I have to think about this piece of crap, the more frustrated I'm going to become. "The Spirit" is Frank Miller's (writer of graphic novels like Sin City and 300) directorial debut, and it shows, painfully so. Neither Miller nor his editing team seem to have any sense of how to pace of film, giving this adaptation of Will Eisner's comic series a shapeless, almost incoherent plot. Story threads and characters seem more like rejected ideas, as opposed to fleshed out, rounded ideas (ie: well, this character would be kind of cool, and here's a few interesting traits...and...oops, that won't work - these are the sorts of things that make up the ENTIRE DAMN MOVIE). Wasting a good (if not great) cast is perhaps Miller's greatest crime; there are brief, split-second moments where we can see a character's (and therefore, actor's) potential, but then it fades, and the actors suddenly seem bored, as though they just showed up for the damn paycheck. Gabriel Macht as the Spirit seems like he could have pulled off the mix of noir-ish detective/comedic womanizer that the Spirit is, but he's undermined by the inept script, which forces him to spend a lot of time boring us to death with a completely uninteresting (and repetitive) inner monologue. Eva Mendes seems to be trying as hard as she can to be the sexy-bad-but-sort-of-good-girl, but again, the script sabotages a role that should have been a cakewalk for her. Scarlett Johannson shows some of those split second glimpses of "getting it right" as the dry, sarcastic assistant to the villain, but mostly she just sounds bored out of her mind. And of course, there's the Octopus, played by good 'ole Samuel L. Motherf**kin' Jackson. Whether it's Jackson's own bizarre acting style or the damn script again, this has to be one of the most mystifying, over the top, bat-sh*t-insane performances of this, or any decade. Though occaisionally it works for some of the off-beat (intentional) comedy (a scene where the Octopus stares at a creepy creation of his own), it often seems way out of place, as though Jackson is pushing beyond noir-tongue-in-cheek, and going all the way into self-parody territory. Take this "priceless" exchange for example:
Octopus: *sneaks up behind the Spirit during a fight*
The Spirit: *looks around*
Octopus: *emerges from behind holding...a toilet. Yes. A toilet.*
The Spirit: ar-
*WHAM!!*
The Spirit: *in pain* oooooooohhooo....
Octopus: What's the matter Spirit? TOILETS ARE ALWAYS FUNNY!!!!
No, I'm not making this up. And this is only within the first 15 minutes of the movie, which plods along almost aimlessly for 1 hour and 45 minutes. However, it's not a total bust. Bill Pope's cinematography works well to capture the cartoonishness of the whole story, while also providing lush lighting, and David Newman's score is, well...effective, though not necessarily groundbreaking. The last little nugget of gold (well...bronze anyway) in this garbage heap is the underused role of a rookie woman cop, who proves to be quite the quick learner. Several quips and little moments (including one where, after barely a week on the force, she whips out a massive laser gun that she built herself) involving this character come closest to capturing the tone that Miller and crew were probably aiming for. It's a shame that they missed their target by such a wide margin...
Grade: D+
Nominations: none
Number of 2008 films seen: 47
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