Sin City: A Dame to Kill For

Overview

It may have been violent, sexist and brainless, but when Sin City hit theatres in 2005, it was like nothing we'd ever seen before. Adapted by Frank Miller and Robert Rodriguez from Miller's pulpy anthology comic-book series, the lurid homage to hard-boiled noir stories was one of the first Hollywood movies to fully embrace digital technology – the directors filmed in front of a green screen using high-def digital cameras before converting to black and white in post-production. The content was still tasteless and juvenile of course, but at least it was interesting to look at.

Nine years later, they've gifted us with a follow-up. Subtitled A Dame to Kill For, this part prequel, part sequel is certainly a fitting companion piece; equally stylized, equally sadistic and equally dumb. And had it come out in 2006 or 2007, it probably would have been embraced. But it didn't. Revolutionary a decade ago, digital cinematography and effects are now the norm, as are slavish graphic novel adaptations full of manufactured grit. Sin City 2 isn't a particularly inferior film to its predecessor. It's just that, after all this time, the novelty is no longer there.

It also doesn't feel as though either Miller or Rodriguez have any interest in pushing the envelope further. Fleeting flashes of colour punctuate the vivid monochrome frame, looking every bit as striking as they did the first time. But the duo never attempts to really build upon the aesthetic of their original – and without the element of surprise on their side, the results are inevitably diminished.

The same goes for script, again steeped in sex and vengeance, but never actually covering any new ground. In the longest story, Mickey Rourke returns as brutish good guy Marv, who along with two-bit private eye Dwight (Josh Brolin), gets caught up in the machinations of a murderous femme-fatale (Eva Green, unfortunately camp). Then there's Johnny (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), a smooth-talking card-shark with a grudge against the vicious Senator Roarke (Powers Boothe). Roarke is also the antagonist in the final vignette, one that sees exotic dancer Nancy (Jessica Alba) out to avenge the honest cop who saved her life.

It should go without saying that the stories are all varying degrees of stupid. If you're not willing to suspend your disbelief every time Johnny gets dealt an impossible poker hand, or when Nancy takes out an entire battalion of body guards, then the movie falls apart before it even begins. What's harder to accept is Miller's flaccid dialogue. Gordon-Levitt is an immensely talented actor, but no-one can make the word 'ambidextrous' sound cool.

There's also no skirting around the movies' attitude towards women, which is unfortunately misjudged at best and flagrantly misogynistic at worst. There is not a single named female character in A Dame to Kill For who isn't either a stripper or a prostitute – and despite what Miller apparently thinks, giving a hooker a bazooka doesn’t really mean she's empowered. For the most part, the film is just immature in a boring way. On this issue specifically though, it's genuinely quite unpleasant.