“The Crow is an unimpressive, yet watchable remake that is just like its protagonist: not entirely dead, but certainly not alive.”
- Bill Skarsgård's committed performance
- His chemistry with FKA Twigs
- Gnarly and gory carnage
- Forgettable supporting characters
- An underdeveloped and inept screenplay
- Rupert Sanders' uninspired direction
A remake of The Crow, the 1994 gothic cult classic starring the late Brandon Lee, was always going to face an uphill battle. The original is too beloved, not only as a perfect encapsulation of the pulpy type of movie that defined the mid to late-’90s, but as a testament to Lee’s talent, especially after his untimely passing as a result of an accident on the set of the film. Still, Rupert Sanders’ The Crow, starring Bill Skarsgård as the titular antihero, is disappointing on pretty much every level, to the surprise of pretty much no one.
A familiar story
The Crow follows Shelly (FKA Twigs), a young woman who has found herself with the wrong crowd. While running away from a would-be attacker, she gets arrested after the police find drugs in her purse. While at a rehab facility, Shelly meets Eric Draven, a young, quiet, sullen man with whom she instantly bonds. They run away together and enter a whirlwind romance that can only last so long, especially with a target on Shelly’s back. When the consequences of her actions catch up with them, Shelly and Eric are killed, but he gets the chance to return as an undead version of himself and is tasked with getting revenge.
Joining Skarsgård and Twigs is Danny Huston as the film’s primary antagonist, Vincent Roeg, a wealthy, sinister man with a demonic secret of his own. Supporting players include Josette Simon, Laura Birn, Sami Bouajila, and Jordan Bolger. Sanders, whose previous credits include Snow White and the Huntsman and the awfully misguided 2017 live-action version of Ghost in the Shell, directs from a screenplay by Zack Baylin and William Schneider.
A wasted cast
The film sees Skarsgård playing a different, yet undercooked version of Eric, who here is an emo sad boi taken straight out of a My Chemical Romance video. Skarsgård has the physicality for the role and is quite committed to it, but his performance is basically divided into two distinct halves that struggle to connect. During the first half of the movie, Eric is more vulnerable and relatable, as he’s severely disturbed by his undying status and the constant pain he is exposed to. This is where Skarsgård shines the brightest, bringing the same soft, endearing, and somewhat manic energy he so effectively used in films like Villains and Barbarian.
However, once the movie decides (quite clumsily) to put the makeup on and turn him into the ruthless action avenger from the poster, Skarsgård becomes stiffer, more detached, and less compelling. His movements get clinical, with his long figure almost puppet-like and uncanny. It’s likely a deliberate choice to highlight Eric’s status as an instrument of vengeance without any humanity left, but the movie doesn’t expand on that theme, and the performance inevitably loses some steam. The Crow‘s lacking approach is disappointing because Skarsgård is a good fit for the role, and there’s more than enough on the screen to imagine what he could have done with a more competent screenplay guided by a better director.
The same can be said for FKA Twigs as Eric’s girlfriend, Shelly. To the movie’s credit, it tries to turn her into a fuller character compared to the 1994 version; unfortunately, it chooses the worst possible way to do it, framing her as a near-ethereal, broken rebel who is this close to being a gothic pixie dream girl. The Crow spends more time exploring Eric and Shelly’s relationship, an interesting choice that delivers mixed results. Skarsgård and Twigs have decent chemistry — it’s not electrifying, but it’s strong enough to support the half an hour the film spends fixed on them.
Sadly, The Crow isn’t interested in creating a complete world for them. People come and go without so much as an introduction, their presence apparently meant to give the relationship more context, yet only succeeding in proving the script’s weaknesses. Similarly, the villain and his henchmen are barely characters. By now, Huston is an expert at playing forgettable bad guys with barely defined motives, so he’s in his element here. His fellow villains are equally underwhelming, barely getting a line or two to justify their presence.
A thin story and even thinner characters
The main problem with The Crow boils down to its underdeveloped screenplay. There’s a noticeable ineptitude to it, highlighted by clumsy dialogue that seems taken out of an angsty teenager’s diary. The Crow doesn’t seem to trust its audience enough to lean into the subtext, instead feeling the need to spell out everything. The line “the crow will show you the way” is repeated a few too many times while the camera pans to a flying crow because the movie being titled The Crow is apparently not enough.
It’s also riddled with exposition for the story’s supernatural lore, which is presented in the most basic way possible. Huston and Bouajila get the most expository lines, and neither can elevate them; no one really tries, to be honest. Twigs also gets a few cringeworthy gems — “I thought you were quite beautifully broken,” she says to Eric — but she fares a lot better, probably because she brings a certain unassuming nature to her performance.
Sanders is also responsible for many of The Crow‘s shortcomings, as his action sequences are unremarkable, uninspired, and often tedious. Action requires a certain degree of chaos and messiness to thrive, which is glaringly missing from Sanders’ execution. The film’s biggest set piece, a showdown between Eric and multiple guards at the opera, is impressively choreographed, queasily gory, and convincingly performed by Skarsgård. Yet Sanders’ camera remains detached and monotone, creating a separation between the action and his lens that makes the whole proceeding less impactful than it should be.
What’s especially frustrating is that based on the first half hour, Skarsgård, Twigs, and even Sanders were all more interested in telling a dark love story than the messy mix of genres that is The Crow. The film tries to be three things at once — a gothic romance, a revenge thriller, and a supernatural tale of hellish proportions — and can’t do any of them justice. If it had chosen to be just one or even two, the result would’ve been much better. And yet, it’s all watchable enough to warrant two hours of one’s time. In fact, The Crow has some genuine promise as a future guilty pleasure, like previous movies that seemingly rejoiced in their mediocrity — Van Helsing, Underworld, Michael Bay’s Transformers.
For hardcore fans only
In many ways, The Crow is the most 2000s movie we’ve seen in a while: its visuals are Green Day circa 2006, its soundtrack is desperate to seem rebellious and original, and its approach is something we would expect from the average noughties comic book adaptation.
If only The Crow had leaned more into the 2000s vibe, if it had chosen to be Twilight with slightly less chemistry and slightly more blood, then I would have probably given it a rave. Instead, what we have is an unimpressive, yet watchable remake that is just like its protagonist: not entirely dead, but certainly not alive.
The Crow is now playing in theaters everywhere.
