Call me an insensitive non-fangirl, but if the sacred works of Jane Austen can stand up to freewheeling reinterpretation, then so, too, can heavy-breathing pages about trussed-up little girls and a vile-smelling cartoon pervert known as Yellow Bastard. Miller is famed, in inky circles, for his two issues of Marvel’s Spectacular Spider-Man, and for his work on the comics Daredevil and The Dark Knight Returns. But with insistence that the work is produced and directed by Rodriguez and Frank Miller, from text by Frank Miller, with an appearance by Frank Miller as a low-down priest, I’ve got to wonder how much truer to the pulp-fiction spirit of the books (and thus how much more persuasive an introduction for the uninitiated) the movie might have been had its production team not been stuck in such fawning thrall to the source material.
This uncontestedly jazzy-looking screen translation of various stories from the pages of the Sin City comic books begun by Miller in 1991 is first and foremost the cinematic work of impish pop-culture vulture Robert Rodriguez, who has swung in his colorful career from El Mariachi to Spy Kids.
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