Constantine Review
by Rick Ferguson (rick32 AT worldnet DOT att DOT net)April 26th, 2005
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.
***
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