Constantine Review
by David N. Butterworth (dnb AT dca DOT net)February 28th, 2005
CONSTANTINE
A film review by David N. Butterworth
Copyright 2005 David N. Butterworth
*** (out of ****)
A detective thriller by way of William Peter Blatty, "Constantine" is the latest comic book adventure to be reborn as a major motion picture.
Here, Jamie Delano and Garth Ennis's "Hellblazer" chronicles serve as a sprightly vehicle for the post-"Matrix" Keanu Reeves, looking and acting not unlike that series of films central protagonist (including his
Neo-monochromatic
attire and Neo-monosyllabic delivery), although John Constantine has one refreshing
ace up his trench coat sleeve: a satisfying sense of humor.
In keeping with the look and feel of the DC/Vertigo graphic novel, "Constantine"
is spectacularly murky and demonic and more entertaining than it has any right to be, largely on account of its clever casting and director Frank Lawrence's desire to keeping everything moving, moving, forever moving, especially his camera, swarming slowly in--or out--on every other shot.
"Constantine" doesn't have the urgency of the upcoming "Sin City" (well, its coming attractions reel at least) and doesn't sport as sanguine a hero as last year's "Hellboy" (with Ron Perlman) but it's got grace and style to spare.
And it's also got Rachel Weisz, who is slowly--and with relatively little fanfare--insinuating
herself into the forefront of Hollywood's Leading Ladies Who Can.
Sprung from the idiotic derring-do of "The Mummy" series of films, Weisz has made her presence--and talents--felt in such films as "About a Boy," "Confidence,"
and "Runaway Jury." Here she plays two roles: LAPD detective Angela Dodson and, in flashback, her institutionalized twin sister Isabel, who reportedly took her own life and is at the center of Angela's criminal investigation. But she needs help, metaphysical help, and finds it in the form of Reeves's John Constantine, a kindred spirit in many ways since he too attempted suicide some 15 years ago and was clinically dead for several minutes before being revived.
Literally yanked to hell and back, he was.
Constantine's purpose now, or so he believes, is to buy his way back into heaven by dispatching "half-breeds," semi-devils and demi-angels that trip the light fantastic between heaven and hell. It's a hellish job but someone's gotta
do it!
John Constantine is a butane flicking fool with lung cancer, having smoked
30 cigarettes a day since he was a teenager, and Reeves delivers him affectionately;
concisely. No dopey attempts at acting here (like in, say, "Something's Gotta Give"). Instead, Reeves is all smooth and mercifully laconic to boot!
I mentioned the film's casting strengths earlier and I'll reiterate them here because they're nothing short of eclectic. Bolstering Reeves and Weisz's contributions are, for starters, Tilda Swinton as the Angel Gabriel, Peter Stormare
as Satan, and Djimon Hounsou as the proprietor of a seedy nightclub for wayward
spirits--he goes by the moniker Midnite. All three seem to be having a blast, and why the hell not?
"Constantine" grips us from its opening scene, as Keanu's character exorcises
a particularly aggressive spirit from a young Latino girl, and rarely stops to take a breath. And while former music video director Lawrence manages everything
as if he's still orchestrating Sarah McLachlan's ethereal emissions, style and humor aplenty keep "Constantine" a visual cut above your average demon seed.
--
David N. Butterworth
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