Sin City

Thesun never shines in Sin City—but thenSin Citydoesn't really need
light. Althoughpopulated by a gaggle of Hollywood meatpuppets, thisslick
andbrutal Robert Rodriguezadaptation of Frank Miller's famously "grim and
gritty" graphic novels isstrictly post-photographic.Reality is virtual.
Shot on DV in black-is-black andwhite-on-white withstrategicswatches of
color—most oftenblood-red—Sin Cityhasitsdigitally enhancedperformers
cavorting throughhyper-noir CGI "sets." Theatmosphere is thelandscape,
and thenarrative aswell. Sin City tells threeintertwined tales of the
world's toughest town—a placepopulated bycrooked cops, corruptpols,
depravedpriests, pedophiliac cannibals, and a super-abundance of bodacious
thong-snapping bondagebabes.Even asweetlittle girlgrows upto be an
exotic dancer in alow-life dive, andeverypickup is aprelude to murder.
The movie's threeprotagonists are thelast good cop in Sin City (Bruce
Willis), a surgicallyalteredprivate eye (Clive Owen), andmost
spectacularly, the hulk-like,borderline-psychotic killingmachine Marv
(Mickey Rourke,rendered unrecognizable with aprostheticprofile). Their
thought balloons rule, invoice-oversspiced by hard-boiled bonsmots:
"Then ithits me like akick in the nuts."Nuts it is, fellas—and ain't it
cool? Afemalestream of consciousness is about as likelyto be found in
Sin City as arainbowsign or a visitfrom theTeletubbies. Chivalry,
however, is not dead. Each of the three stories (which include Miller's
first, starring Marv) ispredicated on a 12-year-old boy's fantasy of the
lone,misappreciated toughguyprotecting or avenging some vulnerable
little lady—even, or ratherespecially, ifshe's akickassAmazonhooker in
fullcircusregalia.