Any phrase that begins with the word “visually” and ends with a superlative adjective could be said about Frank Miller’s Sin City. Be it “visually invigorating,” “visually arresting,” or “visually inventive,” Sin City is truly an orgasm for the eye. However, Sin City not only appeals to your sense of sight, it also allows you to feel for its captivating characters, hear the intriguing thoughts of its voiced individuals (multiple characters do not speak at all), and taste the finest adaptation of a comic-book/graphic-novel ever put into motion.
In a city full of murder, prostitution, cannibalism, and rape, three separate storylines chronicle the ways of Marv (Mickey Rourke), Dwight (Clive Owen), and Hartigan (Bruce Willis). Based on The Hard Goodbye, Marv is out to take vengeance on the man who killed a prostitute - who gave him the night of his life - named Goldie (Jaime King). Derived from The Big Fat Kill, Dwight helps a group of girls, who forcefully keep their streets clean, conceal the murder of a crooked cop named Jackie Boy (Benicio Del Toro). And finally, with That Yellow Bastard, Hartigan, an aging cop with a “bad ticker,” tries to protect a young girl named Nancy (Jessica Alba).
Sin City is, by far, Robert Rodriguez’s shining feature. At the very mention of his name, Sin City should crawl from the very cusp of your cerebellum right to your lips. Movie fans everywhere must learn to forget the futile time he spent working in three-dimensions, with both Spy Kids and The Adventures of Shark Boy and Lava Girl, and remember Rodriguez for his more generous deeds--like providing viewers a setting so unfamiliar, yet blissful, in Sin City. Also, after the Director’s Guild gave him slack for making Frank Miller – the author of Sin City – a co-director, Rodriguez immediately handed in his resignation. Now, if that doesn’t define commitment and class, what does?