Sin City Review

1 Whether you classify it as a visual style or a film genre, nearly 70 years after it first appeared, the subject of “film noir” is not only still with us, but at the forefront of modern cinema. Whether it is about trying to define the term itself, or arguing if it even still exists, film noir has lived on into the 21st century in one way or another, and the very fact that these debates on the subject still remain topical today, clearly illustrates this. Many argue that film noir was a specific period in American cinema, very much like the western or the musical comedy, and therefore cannot live on in modern times or ever truly be reproduced, while many others believe that it is a genre in its own right and is still very much alive and well, even moving into the worlds of science fiction (with Dark City and Blade Runner) and now, perhaps even the graphic novel. This is the conundrum that is “film noir,” and despite the scores of books and essays that have been written on the subject, one has to admit that nobody is truly sure whether film noir constitutes a period, a genre, a cycle, a style, or simply a phenomenon (Narremore. 1998:1). In the words of James Narremore, “it has always been easier to recognize a film noir than to define the term” (Narremore, 1998:1). With this in mind, this essay will, rather than merely finding a loose definition for film noir and measuring Sin City against that, also try to look at the classics of the genre, undisputed “film noir,” and compare them to their modern day counterparts, like Sin City, who are also vying for the same title of “film noir.” Only by doing this will one really be able to determine and identify if Sin City can even truly be called film noir. Consequently, a quick lesson in film history is needed. Film noir, literally “black film,” is a term coined in the 1940s by French critics to describe the dark, cynical American crime dramas of the era. The genre’s classic period, roughly 1944-1958, emerged from the horrors and cultural dislocations of World War II, and dealt with everything from the role of women in society to the ways in which returning veterans, some of them shellshocked and drug-addicted, attempted to fit into the postwar world. Classic noir movies often featured a private eye, a femme fatale and a sadistic hoodlum, with these elements becoming mainstays of the genre and, some say, even defining it. But, while many have indeed come to see these characteristics and elements as being the actual criteria for “film noir”, they are not truly what defines the “genre,” and definitely not the requirements for it. This, therefore, brings us to the question: what is film noir? How does one define this intriguing cinematic style and more importantly, with such an allusive definition, how does one determine if a film like Sin City can in fact be classified as “film noir” in the first place? Perhaps one needs to look at the classics of the genre, the films of the actual golden period of film noir, who are universally accepted and classified as being classics of the genre. They are, after all,

2 the origin of the actual phenomenon. Take The Maltese Falcon for instance, a 1941 Warner Bros. film written and directed by John Huston, based on the novel of the same name by Dashiell Hammett, and starring Humphrey Bogart as private investigator Sam Spade and Mary Astor as his femme fatale client. The film was Huston's directorial debut and was nominated for three Academy Awards. The story concerns the entanglement of a San Francisco private investigator with three greedy, unscrupulous and murderous adventurers who compete with each other to obtain a fabulous jewel-encrusted statuette of a falcon worth millions. It was named as one of the greatest films of all time by Roger Ebert (Ebert, 2001), and Entertainment Weekly (Entertainment Weekly, 1999), and was even cited by Panorama du Film Noir Américain, the French book that coined the term film noir, as the first film of that genre (Sklar, 1990). Futher more, Bogart's convincing interpretation of the hard-boiled private detective would in fact become the archetype of the character in the film noir genre. With its low-key lighting and inventive and arresting angles, the work of Director of Photography Arthur Edeson is seen as one of the film’s great assets. Unusual camera angles, sometimes low to the ground, revealing the ceilings of rooms (a technique also used by Orson Welles and his cinematographer Gregg Toland on Citizen Kane), were utilized to emphasize the nature of the characters and their actions. Some of the films most technically striking scenes involve the character of Gutman, especially the scene where he explains the history of the Falcon to Spade, purposely drawing out his story so that the knock-out drops he has slipped into Spade’s drink will take effect (Mills, 1998). Very nearly as visually evocative are the scenes involving Astor as the classic femme fatale Brigid O'Shaughnessy, almost all of which suggest prison: In one scene she wears striped pajamas, the furniture in the room is striped, and the slivers of light coming through the Venetian blinds suggest cell bars, as do the bars on the elevator cage at the end of the film when she takes her slow ride downward (symbolic of going down to hell) with the police (Mills, 1998), apparently on her way to execution (and her ultimate fate in the afterlife). Huston and Edeson crafted each scene to make sure the images, action and dialogue blended effectively, sometimes even shooting close-ups of characters with other cast members acting with them off camera (Mills, 1998). It is therefore evident that The Maltese Falcon is not seen as the classic film noir due to it possessing the archetype characters of the amoral private detective and the irresistibly deadly femme fatale, but rather because of these specific elements in style and tone, which the filmmakers

3 took great care in creating, or rather, replicating. It is perhaps here where an important point exists then. The style, tone and themes of The Maltese Falcon, and therefore “film noir” in general, originates largely and directly from the novel itself. It is therefore almost impossible to ignore the source material entirely. Which brings us to a significant similarity with Sin City; both are adaptations of “novels”, even though Sin City is based on a 'graphic' one. But why should the fact that it is a graphic novel (or worse, a comic book!) detract from its suitability as a source for film noir. To the contrary, this could even perhaps be to its advantage. The very fact that Sin City is predominately in black and white, the very epiphany of film noir, is because that is how it was envisioned in the graphic novel. Almost every aspect of the film's tone and style originates from the graphic novel's illustrations themselves, making the filmmakers job much easier indeed. The merging of the graphic novel and film could therefore perhaps be even more effective than normal novel-to-film adaptations such as The Maltese Falcon. Imagine how much more effective The Maltese Falcon would have been had Hammet been able to effectively illustrate his own unique vision alongside his narration, giving Huston a true visual to work from. The fact that the Sin City graphic novel was inspired by classic film noir like The Maltese Falcon also definitely emphasizes where its creator, Frank Miller (also the “co-director” of the film), sees its place in the confusing world of genre labeling. Miller's graphic novel, with its cinematic and stylized framed shots, effectively serves as a blueprint for the film adaptation, and ensures that it remains deeply rooted in its noir origins. Furthermore, the language of the film, both dialogue and narration (which mostly come directly from the graphic novel itself), owes much to the hard-boiled pulp novelists of the 1950s (Ebert, 2005), ala Hammet and Chandler. As Miller explains, “It really was me sitting down to completely satisfy myself. I grew up on the crime stuff. Spillane, Chandler, Jim Thompson, and noir movies like Fuller, Orson Welles, Fritz Lang. When I first showed up in New York to write comics back in the late 1970s, I came with a bunch of crime stories but everybody just wanted men in tights. So I'd had these ideas for years. I simply sat down and started drawing” (Rose, 2005: 2). And while the hard-boiled dialogue is perhaps not entirely in the class of Hammett or Chandler, and probably closer to the lower end of the pulp-food chain (French, 2005:2), no one has ever said that in order to be film noir, a film has to be as good as the best. This said, there are also occasionally some very good lines, like “You're running out of valley, cowboy” or the hapless Willis truthfully admitting: “When it comes to comforting a traumatised 11-year-old, I'm as useful as a palsy victim performing brain surgery with a pipe wrench” (French, 2005:2). As for the rasping, gravelly voices

4 of the cast, one suspects the continual rain has made laryngitis endemic in Sin City (French, 2005:2), although it is worth mentioning that this illness is not confined to the borders of Sin City alone, as most film noir characters do tend to find themselves stricken with this peculiar vocal syndrome. Yet, there is no denying, visually, Sin City is brilliant. Its black-and-white palette with pulsing intrusions of red, yellow, and blue looks beautiful and the use of acute and vertiginous camera angles are thrilling. Its clear that the film's imitation of the comic’s atmosphere is remarkably accurate, with much thanks also needing to go to the performances of the excellent cast. They really do seem to embody the characters created by Miller and portray them flawlessly. This is even more of a accomplishment considering that most of the scenes were shot with only one of the particular actors present. Almost every performance was individually done and added next to eachother during post-production. And surprisingly, this doesn't take anything away from the performances, which says something about where film technology is taking us. The stylised scenery, occasional silhouetted images, and the grotesquely exaggerated characters, further enhance the effects of the comic book, without becoming cartoonish (Page, 2005), therefore truly creating a type of “amplified film noir” world. It has everything you would typically find in a film noir piece, only amplified to the tenth degree (Ernand, 2005). There are the flawed but noble anti-heroes who question their identities and strive to protect their women; a generous use of poetic narration; plots that involve murder mysteries and corruption; beautiful but tough femme fatales; stark black and white cinematography; and bloody spouts of violence (Ernand, 2005). It is all there, only gloriously exaggerated to a gleeful proportions (Ernand, 2005). It therefore comes as no surprise that Sin City has been called by many as being “film noir on steroids” (Ebert, 2005:). A very fitting term I tend to quite like and agree with. And while this is the very characteristic that hampers the experience for some, as soon as you learn to embrace this exaggerated world of Sin City, the more you'll come to love it. Another definite underlying theme running throughout both film noir and Sin City, is the realization of the true dark and destructive nature of the world. In Sin City (and film noir) there is no way out. The successes of a few vigilantes are but futile attempts to make the world a better place before it, mercifully, crushes them (Page: 2005). Sin City is therefore possibly the most post-modern movie to date (Page: 2005). Its style and dazzling imagery contain nothing but a deeply pessimistic view of humanity, an almost defining element of all film noir (Page: 2005). It is therefore without doubt

5 that, while the film draws on a huge range of influences, reinventing genres as it combines them (Page: 2005), film noir is where it ultimately calls home. And together with its beautiful black and white cinematography and world weary heroes, Sin City clearly and obviously strains to evoke the film noirs of the 40s and 50s more than anything else (Page: 2005). But is this a good thing? If it merely strives to emulate the classic film noirs, can it truly be seen as being an original film noir? Or is it merely a well made carbon copy? The question, I think, is no. Just because Sin City isn't afraid to embrace its origins and inspirations doesn't make it an inferior piece of art. There are hundreds of cop-action movies, millions of romantic comedies etc. But it still doesn't keep people from judging each film on its own merits, if there is a brilliant romantic-comedy that comes out today (however unlikely that seems), its brilliance will be noticed and acknowledged. The same goes for westerns. If they make a Western today, like they did with say 3:10 to Yuma (yes I know, even though it is a remake), it will be seen as a Western. It probably won't be regarded a classic yet, but is still falls into the Western genre. This said, comparisons to your predecessors are inevitable, and this essay is no different, happily complying with said act. In the same way that those film noirs of the 40's and 50's did, Sin City moves you in a visual and gut wrenching way (Donelson, 2005:1). The narratives immediately draw you in (Donelson, 2005:1). The darkness of the scenes establishes a world where there is no hope and no light (Donelson, 2005:1). It is as if daylight never comes and you are immediately thrown back to Hollywood's past, as if at any moment, Humphrey Bogert's dark silhouette will move out of the fog, equipped with trench coat and matching headgear (Donelson, 2005:1). As hinted at earlier, clear inspirations are of course The Maltese Falcon and The Big Sleep (Donelson, 2005:1). The action in both of these Bogart classics also happen at night, with the main characters only working in the moonlight and with no hint of the sun ever rising (Donelson, 2005:1). Sin City is no different, as everything happens at night and away from the light of day (Donelson, 2005:1), both literally and, of course, figuratively. With all of these striking similarities between the classic film noirs of yesteryear and Sin City, one could perhaps be forgiven for wondering why so many have argued against Sin City being film noir. In the conclusion of film genre expert Steve Neale’s chapter on film noir he lists, somewhat offhandedly, the features of film noir: The use of voice-over and flashback, the use of high contrast lighting and other expressionist devices, the focus on mentally, emotionally, and physically vulnerable characters, the interest in psychology, the culture of distrust marking relations between male and female characters, and the downbeat emphasis on violence, anxiety, death, crime and

6 compromised morality (Neale, 2000). And while, yes, there is no true defining criteria for film noir, this comes strikingly close to at least creating a rough framework to work with. Some critics may have been shy about making the conclusion that Sin City is in fact film noir, simply stating that the film merely contains some noir elements, yet ultimately still shies away from bold inclusion into film noir. But, in looking at the criteria given by Neale, it seems that Sin City not only qualifies, but might even be the quintessential film noir (McLean, 2006). Sin City contains not just many of the above mentioned qualities, but exhibits most, if not all of them (McLean, 2006). And if exhibiting almost all of the fundamental cinematic elements of film noir, how can one even try to refuse Sin City entry into this exclusive club of stylized films. There is, of course, also the question of the movie's period. Its skylines suggest the film is set today, while the cars range from the late 1930s through the 1950s, and even to a recent Ferrari (Ebert, 2005). Also the costumes are a mixture of classic and modern; ranging from the trench coat and Gstring era, to red sneakers and leather attire (Ebert, 2005). All of these merely emphasize my belief that Sin City doesn't really have a period, and fittingly so, as it doesn't really tell a story set in time and space (Ebert, 2005). Rather, it's more a brilliant visualization of the pulp noir imagination, uncompromising and extreme (Ebert, 2005). And this is where, I think, the film invokes its most significant argument for being film noir. Yes, film noir was perhaps an actual period in cinema history, but it is also more than that. It was a certain type of narration, a style, a refusal to compromise and hide in shades of grey or colour. And while the era's characteristic elements like the private eye, the robbers, the dames, the tough guys, and the rest of the period's unique style was the foundations of film noir, ultimately, it was the story and how it was told that truly made it film noir. The costumes and all the rest merely serve to contribute and compliment the film noir style, much like we find in Sin City. The hallmark of film noir are not these period pieces, but rather its themes of pessimism, world-weariness and the realization that the world is trying to, and ultimately will, eat you up alive. And while these themes do have their origins in the 2nd World War and Cold War, they are universal, even more so today, with the recent success of dark films like The Dark Knight illustrating this more than ever. Sin City seems to understand the genre for which it is aiming, and even knows how unstable the genre itself is (McClean, 2006). This is perhaps why it also tends to overdo its classic noir elements. If you weren't immediately aware what Sin City is, you would not truly understand it. Sin City therefore avoids this confusion by clearly emphasizing and exaggerating its film noir credentials in order to emphasize and clearly convey to the audience how they should understand the film. Yet it

7 does this while still managing to simultaneously place itself in the classic period of film noir as well as the contemporary world (McClean, 2006), a difficult feat to achieve indeed. A definite film noir for the 21st century. In summation, it seems that Sin City is, without a doubt, film noir. The story has so many noir elements, both in visual and narrative aesthetic, as well as neatly fitting into so many lists regarding the traditional noir elements (McClean, 2006), that it is almost impossible to deny the film inclusion to the genre. Some people say film noir is a genre unto itself, others argue it’s a sub-genre of the crime film, while yet another group say it’s really only a mood. The seemingly endless number of differing groups with differing viewpoints is enough to write a whole thesis on (and naturally, many have), and still not even really scratch the surface of what film noir truly is. It is therefore clear that a consensus will never be met and the debate probably never cease, but the one thing most people do ultimately agree on is that, whatever “film noir” really is, it's pretty damn cool. And if anything, Sin City at least succeeds in flirting with idea of being very, very cool. Like only film noir can be.

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Bibliography Ebert, R. 2005. “Review of Sin City” (online edition), March 31. Ebert, R. 2001 "The Maltese Falcon (1941)." in rogerebert.com (online edition), 13 May. Entertainment Weekly. 1999. The 100 Greatest Movies of All Time. New York: Entertainment Weekly Books. French. P. 2005. “Looks good, feels bad” in The Observer (online edition), June 5. McClean, C. 2006. “Sin City, Film Noir and the Animation Fascination” (online edition), Novembmer 12. 25 September 2008 Mills, M. 1998. “The Maltese Falcon” in Palace Classic Films (online edition). (10 October 2008) Narremore, J. “The History Of An Idea” in More Than Night: Film Noir In It's Contexts. University of California Press, Ltd. London: England, 1998. Neale, S. Genre and Hollywood. London: Routledge, 2000. Page, M. 2005 “Film Review: Sin City” in Open Heaven Church(online edition), June 20. (10 October 2008) Rose, S. 2005. “Black and white and bloody” in The Guardian (online edition), May 27. Sklar, R. Film: An International History of the Medium. Thames and Hudson [London], 1990.