Pulp Fiction, But The Good Kind. Not The Annoying Ex-Video Store Clerk Kind
Robert Rodriguez and Frank Miller
It’s a bit unfair to call this pulp-noir film on speed an adaptation of Frank Miller’s seedy Sin City comic books, in that there is no actual adaptation involved. The comics are translated, panel for panel, word for word, to the big screen, so really its kind of like a comic-book-on-tape, with someone turning the pages for you as you follow along. Normally, this would bother me immensely. I’m usually strongly of the opinion that in order for an adaptation from one medium to another to be justified, some differences from the source material must be included, or else why bother. If I wanted a meticulously exact imitation of the Lord of The Rings, for example, I would just read the book, instead of wasting ten hours of my life paying to see 150 close-up shots of a gold ring in someone’s palm interspersed with some filler full of panty-waist elves. However, in the case of Sin City, I’m not so bothered, maybe because the comic was so uniquely filmic it seemed more like a movie anyway, maybe the world of Sin City is so visually original and striking it was begging for a live action translation, or maybe because the majority of the comic takes place in a strip club. Regardless, the film is entertaining as hell, although sometimes you may feel like that’s exactly where you’re headed if you enjoy watching it. Perhaps the fact that the stories never seemed so horrifically violent in print form is a by-product of the transition to the screen, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen this sort of stuff on a big screen that wasn’t affiliated with someone who can give the entire production history of Cannibal Holocaust.