![]() ![]() Like the first film, Sin City: A Dame to Kill For is an anthology of several overlapping, nonlinear storylines. ![]() Thus your level of enjoyment will be directly proportional to your ability to take the banal beatings in order to get to the lurid payoffs of bullets, booze, and broads. While punctuated with intermittent splatters of brilliance and fun, mostly from its titular (very titular) title, the sequel is simultaneously marred by the limp self-parody that has become present in all of director Robert Rodriguez’s work in the intervening decade. Sadly, Sin City: A Dame to Kill For isn’t quite that. In short, Sin City played as if Frank Miller found crumpled pages on Mickey Spillane’s bedroom floor, jettisoned for being too absurd, and then he added ninja throwing stars to them. It sure ain’t the noir of Dashiell Hammett or Billy Wilder, but it could have easily worked as a cheapie from poverty row that had been liberated from the constraints of 1940s censorship and good taste. Whereas 300 was like being trapped in an airless video game cinematic while gasping for oxygen, the earlier Sin City was stylish enough in its pulp noir to pass off as pseudo-artsy and wholly-entertaining B-level sleaze. ![]() The first Sin City deserves credit for the “visionary” and medium-bending comic book visuals that are often attributed to Zack Snyder. ![]()
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