Remember the missing trigger warning in Blink Twice? Well, The Crow has a trigger warning, but it is the wrong one. The latest iteration of The Crow should come with a warning for toe-curling dialogue and flat characters sharing zero chemistry. Based on James O’Barr’s comic book series and Alex Proyas’s gorgeous 1994 film, this needless reboot directed by Rupert Sanders (known for directing the Foundation pilot!) moves at the pace of congealing gum at a deserted post office.
The Crow, the fifth film in the franchise, begins on a grim note with a dying horse, an alarming instance of animal violence. The horse is caught in barbed wire, and a young boy, Eric (played by Bill Skarsgård), attempts to set it free. This traumatic event marks the beginning of a troubled life for Eric, who grows up struggling with addiction. Meanwhile, Shelly (portrayed by FKA Twigs), a pianist, battles her own addiction issues. The storyline convolutes further when Shelly receives a video from her friend Zadie (Isabella Wei), prompting her to flee from Roeg (Danny Huston), a crime lord and patron of the arts, who has made a sinister deal with the devil.
Shelly ends up in rehab, courtesy of the police, where she meets Eric. The plot takes another twist when Marian (Laura Birn), Roeg’s right-hand person, turns up at the rehab. Eric and Shelly escape, seeking refuge at Shelly’s friend’s luxurious apartment. Romance blossoms as they party away the nights, albeit lacking any palpable chemistry. Their brief respite ends when Roeg’s henchmen catch up to them, culminating in their demise.
Eric’s journey doesn’t end in death; he wakes up in an abandoned train station, greeted by Cronos (Sami Bouajila) who informs him that he resides in a purgatory-like halfway house. Eric is told that as long as his love remains pure, he will be invincible, and once he vanquishes the wicked, he can reunite with his true love. And so begins his snail-paced, revenge-fuelled journey.
.
Despite the film’s commendable production design and a trippy soundscape—though not matching the 1994 movie which featured Stone Temple Pilots, The Cure, and Nine Inch Nails—these elements do little to salvage the sluggish narrative. The operatic violence in the climax, intercut with an opera performance, comes off as gratuitous.
One of the starkest disappointments is the lack of chemistry between Twigs and Skarsgård. Their relationship feels more about convenience than a timeless love, and the leaden dialogues do nothing to bring their characters to life. The film is marred by a sluggish pace and a jumbled plot. The all-important video, which sets Shelly on the run, appears more as a filler, failing to drive the narrative forward.
The crow symbol, holding associations with ancestors and rebirth in Hindu mythology, is awkwardly incorporated into the film. It floats vaguely in the frame, reduced to just one of many pointless characters, including Shelly’s mother Sophia (Josette Simon) and a nameless pianist whose sole purpose seems to be making goo-goo eyes at Roeg. A brief moment during a chase scene hints at the potential of a Gothic Terminator, but this promise quickly dissolves, revealing the scene as merely a fleeting mirage in this wasteland of imagination.
Ultimately, The Crow is an exercise in squandered potential. Not only does it fail to live up to the rich legacy of its predecessors, but it also falls short as a standalone film. The mixture of half-baked narrative arcs, underdeveloped characters, and gratuitous stylization results in a cinematic experience that is upsettingly forgettable. It’s a stark example of how not to reboot a beloved franchise, leaving fans longing for the haunting elegance of the original 1994 film.
The Crow is currently running in theatres, but be forewarned: this is not a revival that does justice to its namesake. Instead, it serves as a reminder that some classics are better left untouched.
