The Spirit‘s ‘M’ rating has set a new benchmark for cartoonish brutality. The Spirit‘s invulnerable characters take a page out of Wile E. Coyote’s book and turn household items into weapons of mass destruction. Toilets, rubbish bins and – knowingly – a kitchen sink are shattered over skulls in the first 15 minutes. By the fifth reel, most audience members won’t be surprised to see Samuel L. Jackson dressed as a Nazi, murdering a fluffy kitten.
Not chasing any Oscars, The Spirit wisely plays to its strengths. At one point a breathless dame whispers to our hero, “keep your mask on, something tells me it’ll be better that way.” It’s an apt summary of a film that highlights the surreal at all costs.
Director Frank Miller uses a stunning monochromatic palette to achieve this goal. In his high-contrast world we only ever see beautiful women and toned men. Sadly, this minimalistic worldview also flows into his script. The Spirit himself narrates throughout and the technique might have been able to fix the story’s plot-holes, if it weren’t for him occasionally talking directly to-camera and ruining Miller’s escapist illusion.
Without the voice-over, the film could have become the bad-taste hit of the summer. With it, the movie feels a little too cheap and in need of a few script re-writes.
Reviewed by Daniel McClelland
