In the reimagined version of The Crow, one of the first striking images is that of a white horse, fallen and bleeding in a muddy field after being ensnared in barbed wire. This metaphor, although visually powerful, feels somewhat misplaced and ultimately unexplained—a foreshadowing of the stylistic choices director Rupert Sanders makes throughout the film. In his attempt to breathe new life into the cult hero of comics and cinema, Sanders prioritizes visual flair over narrative depth and coherence.
Set in a modern, yet indistinct, European backdrop, the film is heavily inspired by James O’Barr’s graphic novel. However, it cannot escape the looming presence of the 1994 adaptation, in which Brandon Lee’s tragic death during filming has enshrined the original as a piece of cinematic history. The new adaptation, arriving amidst headlines of another on-set tragedy, only serves to deepen the shadow cast by Lee’s iconic performance.
Bill Skarsgård steps into Lee’s role as Eric Draven, a man brought back from the dead to avenge the brutal murders of himself and his beloved, Shelly. This version of The Crow attempts to elevate the story to operatic heights, with screenwriters William Schneider and Zach Baylin introducing elements such as a Faustian bargain, a devilish figure, and a liminal space between heaven and hell resembling an abandoned railway station. “Kill the ones who killed you, and you’ll get her back,” the hero is told, setting the stage for a blood-soaked quest for vengeance.
Despite the film’s ambitions, the first half feels sluggish, laden with unnecessary exposition and drawn-out scenes. Eric, portrayed as a brooding artist with a penchant for sketching and tattoos, is written as a gentle loner tormented by an unexplained past. Shelly, played by FKA Twigs, is more complex but suffers from a lack of backstory, rendering her character’s motivations unclear. Their love story, meant to be the emotional core of the film, comes across as more adolescent than eternal—a significant flaw in a narrative that hinges on love transcending death.
Visually, the film has its moments, particularly Skarsgård’s Eric donning the Crow’s signature makeup and wielding a katana as he stalks through a rain-soaked, dystopian landscape. The climax, a thrilling action sequence set against an operatic backdrop, is one of the film’s highlights, with arias soaring as Eric dispatches tuxedoed villains in a flurry of stylized violence. Yet, even in its best moments, the film struggles to break free from the influences of The Matrix, Joker, and Kill Bill, borrowing heavily from these modern classics without establishing its own identity.
Ultimately, The Crow reimagined is a visually arresting but flawed retelling. While it boasts a stronger narrative than the original, it cannot escape the legacy of Brandon Lee and the 1994 film. The movie, much like the trapped white horse in its opening scene, is burdened by its own painful history, unable to truly gallop on its own.
As a piece of cinema, The Crow is neither a failure nor a triumph. It offers a fresh take for the smartphone generation, but in doing so, it remains tethered to the past, unable to fully realize its potential.
Paraluman P. Funtanilla
Paraluman P. Funtanilla is Tutubi News Magazine's Marketing Specialist and is a Contributing Editor. She finished her degree in Communication Arts in De La Salle Lipa. She has worked as a Digital Marketer for start-up businesses and small business spaces for the past two years. She has earned certificates from Coursera on Brand Management: Aligning Business Brand and Behavior and Viral Marketing and How to Craft Contagious Content. She also worked with Asia Express Romania TV Show.
