Intensity In Sin City

Can't believe that some film reviewer (who's also a late 80'/early 90's Hagar-era Van Halen fan) hasn't used that as a review title.

So, my gorgeous, patient wife went with me and a couple of fiends of ours to see this the other night. Once again, I'm the only one in the room who loves the comic book movie. But it was nice to be supported by their presence.

Actually, I love it with reservations. It seems like Rodrigues wanted so much to copy every single panel of the graphic novels, that he also copied panels that I would have flipped quickly through, i.e., cars driving down the road forever. And for such a percussive filmmaker, this seemed to be a little bit of a straitjacket.

But in the end, that didn't matter so much. I love when pulp distillations like this are done well. By now, every writer and publicity hack has name-checked "Pulp Fiction", so I won't bother here. Except where I just did, right then. But not after that. Because I have integrity.

Garofalo-integrity.