The Crow Review: A Load Of Caw-Caw

When deciding what films are worth remaking, the general rule of thumb is that ones with great premises but questionable execution stand the most to benefit from getting a redo. By that logic, Alex Proyas' 1994 version of "The Crow" is the opposite of a logical remake candidate: it's an incredibly generic revenge narrative on paper, but it became a cult favorite despite its weaknesses thanks to its striking gothic style, a rocking soundtrack, and a memorable lead performance from Brandon Lee — who died in a tragic gun accident on the film's set. What would be the point of remaking "The Crow" without the extreme 1990s aesthetics and the star who made it so beloved in the first place?

I'm sure director Rupert Sanders and screenwriters Will Schneider and Zach Baylin (one more Oscar nominee than you'd expect to be involved in this script) would say that the 2024 version of "The Crow" isn't a "remake" of the 1994 version but instead another adaptation of James O'Barr's underground comic series. A very loose adaptation, mind you, so it's not as if fans of the comic are going to be much friendlier to it than fans of the movie. But I've never read the comic, and I have no personal attachment to the old movie — I'm sure it was the coolest thing ever if you saw it as an edgy teenager in 1994 (at least before "Pulp Fiction" hit theaters five months later), but I was a toddler then, and having recently watched it for the first time 30 years later, I'm always going to think the edgy teenager favorites I grew up with ("The Matrix," "The Dark Knight," the works of Quentin Tarantino, etc.) are cooler.

So I'm probably more open than most to a radically different interpretation of "The Crow," and I actually think this remake's team has one good storytelling instinct: a desire to show more of the relationship between Eric (Bill Skarsgård) and Shelly (FKA Twigs) before they get murdered and the former gets resurrected to take revenge. The '94 film's characters were more vehicles upon which to project outside feelings about grief rather than individuals one could actively grieve for, so that is an area with room for improvement. Alas, almost every other decision made in this remake actively works against the principles of good drama, good entertainment, and good messaging.

The 1994 version of "The Crow" is an action revenge movie where an invincible undead antihero kills a bunch of criminals in ironic ways for 90 minutes while brooding about love and loss and occasionally shredding on a guitar. The 2024 "Crow" takes almost as long as the entire runtime of the old version to become anything close to an action movie. It takes around 45 minutes to even get to the inciting incident murder and then Eric spends another 40 minutes or so learning the ropes of being resurrected before he finally enacts his revenge. All the big fights are contained in the final act and have mostly been spoiled by the trailers. The gory opera house brawl is kind of fun, but it's too little, too late. In other words, Topher Florence's "Surf Dracula" tweet continues to be one of the most significant works of media criticism in the modern era.

Where the old "Crow" took place in a soundstage universe of rainy eternal nighttime in the vein of the Tim Burton "Batman" movies, the new one takes place in what more-or-less looks like the real world. The imagery is shiny but bland, only ever getting particularly stylized in an opening credits sequence ripping off the works of David Fincher. Forget about remembering anything on the soundtrack — the diminished significance of rock 'n roll in mainstream music has clearly taken its toll on this material. And yeah, making Eric look like Jared Leto's Joker is definitely A Choice.

But let's try to ignore comparisons to the original. Does any of this work as its own story? Not really ...

Taking the remake on its own terms without trying to compare it to the original, a clear problem emerges: it picked the wrong main character. For the romantic drama of the first act, FKA Twigs' Shelly is by far the more appealing character than Bill Skarsgård's Eric. They're both sad drug addicts, but where Eric's just mopey, Shelly's got charisma (one overwrought detail defining their characterizations: she has a tattoo reading "Laugh Now, Cry Later," while he gets a matching tattoo reading "Cry Now, Cry Later") — and an actual connection to the film's villains. Instead of the ordinary gangsters of the comic and old movie, here the big bad is Vincent Roeg (Danny Huston), a Satanic fiend who mind-controls innocent women to condemn them to Hell and extend his own life.

Replacing the literal rape in the comic and old movie with a supernatural metaphor might be an attempt to make the film more feminist-friendly, but if this was truly a feminist interpretation, why not make Shelly the one who gets resurrected by the crow spirit instead of Eric? She has more reason for revenge than he does, and that "Jessica Jones"-esque story sounds a lot more interesting than watching sad-boy Eric slowly turn into a semi-recognizable version of the character's older incarnations. You can say the reason Eric made sense as the main character in the original was because his story was how creator James O'Barr was processing the death of his own wife. But this remake isn't about processing death at all — Eric is no longer coming to accept Shelly's death through vengeance but instead going on a quest to magically bring her back to life, all building up to an ending with no meaning except to beg, "Please give us a sequel!"

I simply don't know who the remake of "The Crow" is for. No edgy teenager is gonna think this movie is cool, no old-school fan is gonna get happy nostalgia from it, and nobody else is ever gonna buy a ticket.

"The Crow" opens in theaters on August 23.

If you or anyone you know needs help with addiction issues, or has been the victim of sexual assault, help is available. Contact the relevant resources below: 

• The Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network website or contact RAINN's National Helpline at 1-800-656-HOPE (4673).
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