“The Crow” Remake Alternates Between Uninspired Schlock and Narrative Desecration

Dylan Masvidal | Staff Writer

Regarding rancid studio-driven “reimaginings,” few feelings come close to the high one gets as they let loose a proverbial pit bull to add to the dogpiling. 

And while I’m not someone who particularly fancies beating a dead horse, this one is personal. 

Especially knowing director Rupert Sanders—a man with a clear affinity for ruining other people’s work— has described his reboot of “The Crow” as a “very scrappy indie movie.” Nice try, but you can’t piss on my leg and tell me it’s raining. 

Alex Proyas’ original 1994 film adaptation is the closest to a quintessential silver screen conversion a comic book could get. Everything from the set design and miniature models to the gorgeous, ultra-gloomy cinematography and the most iconic implementation of original music mainstream viewers and goth subcultures had the pleasure of experiencing. 

I’ve always been enamored with Proyas’ vision of Detroit in the story (with help from cinematographer Dariusz Wolski) being otherworldly, a paradoxical city that somehow feels both lived in and on the verge of being apocalyptic. Sprinkle in a dash of pulpy violence and a classic is born. 

Now, chuck all those memorable qualities into the far corners of the globe, because Sanders’ version doesn’t possess a modicum of it. 

Original writer/artist James O’Barr aside, even the film’s innate ties to its poetry forefather would have Edgar Allan Poe’s heart toiling in his grave. 

Remember the rich macabre atmosphere of the first one? 

Well, I hope you’re a fan of the desaturated streets of central Europe. 

Cartoonishly evil villains with grunge-era haircuts you love to hate are also now replaced by charisma vacuums in suits with the personalities of bread mold.

I can’t even credit Sanders for the stylized opening credits due to him blatantly ripping off David Fincher’s “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.” 

I’m not surprised by his use of overly complicated exposition and pawning it off as “fresh,” either. In actuality, it’s lazy and downright disrespectful to the source material. 

Adding insult to injury is the performance of Bill Skarsgård as the titular character, which I must preface by blaming Sanders for, too. He’s acted his tuchus off in many roles; Anti-hero isn’t one of them. 

Where Brandon Lee reveled in being a loving fiancé in despair who has become the physical manifestation of uncontrolled grief, Skarsgård’s portrayal reads like a bad impression of a bumbling, fake-deep soundcloud rapper. He’s Lil Xan with washboard abs. 

Whoever thought it was a good idea to transform Eric Draven into a sex symbol, a la Jared Leto’s Joker, deserves to be tried by a jury of their enemies, not peers. 

And if it couldn’t get any worse, his chemistry with FKA Twigs’ Shelly—a romance that is the backbone for this entire story—is paper-thin. At their worst, they’re a few Hot Topic proverbs short of being a full-on parody. Dialogue exchanges that made me so sick I almost coughed up a lung. 

How can you look me dead in the eye and say this wasn’t a “Hollywood movie” when the ending teases a possible sequel. My rage knows no bounds! Have you no shame? 

There’s just no sugarcoating this slimy cash grab; “The Crow” remake is a textbook definition of a waste of time for the audience, cast, and crew involved. It goes without saying that an apology must be issued for both O’Barr and Lee’s family. 

Fret not, my Crow brethren, it can’t rain all the time.

1/10.