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Review: Constantine (2005)

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Rick Ferguson

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Apr 25, 2005, 8:11:16 PM4/25/05
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Apologists aside, most thinking film fans are in agreement that the
MATRIX sequels blew, and blew hard. In my mind, the Wachowski brothers
made a fatal error in progressively centering the sequels around the
pitifully under-imagined Zion, rather than on the groovy, industrial
thrash-metal powered, black-leather and sunglasses clad, green-tinged
world of the Matrix. Let's face it- even in the first and arguably
perfect MATRIX film, we suffered through those interminably drab scenes
aboard the Nebuchadnezzar just so we could get back to the ass kicking.


MATRIX RELOADED squandered our expectations the moment the Wachowskis
introduced us to those hemp-wearing, rave-throwing, impossibly buff,
multi-culti neo-hippies and their Jedi Council platitude-spouting
leaders; every moment spent in Zion, after all, was a moment not spent
in the Matrix itself. The brothers would have better served the
franchise by leaving Zion an ideal, oft dreamed of but never revealed.
This failure to cash in on the intellectual and emotional capital
created by the first MATRIX film was the overriding theme of its
sequels. By the end of MATRIX REVOLUTIONS, the idea of watching Neo and
Agent Smith square off for yet another round held about as much appeal
as a colonoscopy.

The Wachowskis having retreated to their underground lair to lick their
wounds, Keanu Reeves remains our most visible link to those halcyon
days of 1999, when Bullet Time seemed to reinvent the very concept of
sci-fi action itself. We all knew it was only a matter of time before
he went back to the well. Hence we find ourselves back at the theater
in familiar territory: watching a black-clad Keanu discover the world
behind this one, learn his Special Purpose and wade through endless
CGI-generated vistas and hordes of digital adversaries. Unfortunately,
although possessed of certain subtle charms, CONSTANTINE is a failure
of imagination so complete that MATRIX REVOLUTIONS appears, in
contrast, a visionary work of art.

The world of John Constantine, as imagined by Brit comic book veterans
Jamie Delano and Garth Ennis in their "Hellblazer" series, is a
fanboy's wet dream. The central conceit of both comic and film is
that the Earth is fraught with angels and demons who wage war over our
souls. Contractually forbidden to interfere overtly on the Material
Plane, they instead peddle their influence, nudging us ever so slightly
to do good or evil. The angels attempt to save souls while the devils
damn them, and the side with the most souls in their corner at
Armageddon wins. It's the Book of Job writ large.

Occasionally, however, wayward demons attempt to enter our Plane,
usually through the body of some unsuspecting 12-year-old girl played
by Linda Blair, and inflict some real damage. That's where
Constantine (Reeves) comes in. Born with the ability to see the demons
and angels around him, he once tried to kill himself and survived;
unfortunately, God's zero-tolerance policy against suicide means
he's doomed to Hell- and since he's dying of lung cancer, he may
get there sooner rather than later. This foreknowledge of his own
damnation leads Constantine to a career as a freelance exorcist. If he
sends enough demons back to Hell, he reasons, he might be able to buy
his way back into Heaven.

What follows from this setup is a murky, threadbare plot involving the
Spear of Destiny (in legend, the Roman spear that pierced the side of
Christ on the cross), the beautiful but trigger-happy detective Angela
and her psychic twin sister (both played by Rachel Weisz), an alcoholic
priest (Pruitt Taylor Vince), an angel (Tilda Swinton) with a hidden
agenda and the owner of a nightclub (Djimon Hounsou) that represents
neutral ground in which both angels and demons can mingle, swap gossip
and perhaps even hook up. Can Constantine figure out why Hell has
broken the truce with Heaven to pursue Angela before he smokes his last
cigarette?

The good news is that the failure of CONSTANTINE to entertain isn't
Reeves's fault. A noir anti-hero dripping with cynicism and possessed
of an unbreakable code of honor, the character of Constantine is a far
cry from Neo's Zen Superman act, and to his credit Reeves does
succeed in creating a unique character. Sure, there's way too much
theatrical lighting of cigarettes and striking of Zippos, but his
performance hangs together, at least on a comic book level. Likewise,
the rest of the cast brings an elevated level of slyness that the movie
doesn't really deserve, and it's in the sheer haminess of the
performances that we find CONSTANTINE's few real pleasures.

The failure here, rather, lies in equal measure with the script, which
consists of a series of marginally connected scenes that pretend to
build to the sort of orchestral crescendo that you might find at a
kazoo band concert, and the direction, which shows a failure to imagine
this material on the level of Grand Guignol. One of the film's
central conceits is that Heaven, Hell and Earth occupy the same
physical space, albeit on different planes of reality. So if you're
in Los Angeles, die suddenly and find yourself in Hell, you find
yourself in Hell's version of L.A. It's an idea that sounds great
on paper. But here, the scenes of Constantine in Hell look remarkably
similar to those scenes in the LORD OF THE RINGS movies in which Frodo
puts on the Ring. The demons in the film don't look any better than
the demons in the "Doom 3" computer game. The film is a sloppy amalgam
of THE MATRIX movies, the BLADE series and THE EXORCIST- elements
that might result in magic in the right hands, but here just look like
shameless riffing. That's what you get when you entrust your
potential movie franchise to a director who honed his craft directing
Justin Timberlake videos.

But what do I know? I'm just a simple caveman, and your complex
computer-generated fantasy epics frighten and confuse me. CONSTANTINE
will generate enough mixed reaction amongst the geek set to get a few
asses in the seats, and it will do reasonably well overseas. But
don't expect blockbuster DVD sales, Warner Brothers. And if I were
you, I'd coax the Wachowskis out of hiding and hand them the keys to
the kingdom. In retrospect, those guys are geniuses.

***
Visit Poor Richard's Film Almanac at http://www.filmreviewblog.com


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