The Crow
**Spoiler alert. Do I need a spoiler alert for a film that's 25 years old? Sure, why not?**
The Crow was released 25 years ago — 1994 — and quickly became a cult classic. The circumstances surrounding the filming and release of the film were fodder for theories that ranged from the mundane to the supernatural. The film franchise is clearly cursed, most notably accounting for Brandon Lee's accidental death. Yes, Lee died during filming. I'll steer away from the controversy involving the film and subsequent The Crow films as well. I want to talk about the theme of this movie — revenge.
I recently watched The Crow on Netflix and realized it had reached a milestone. It was now 25 years old. A quarter century! It feels like I watched this movie for the first time just yesterday. It's easy to see why it became a cult classic, revered for years by many a goth and emo kid. Originally a black-and-white comic, the theme of revenge is universal. Almost anyone can relate. Lee's character sees his fiance raped by a group of men as he arrives home one evening. They murder him and then her. It's Devil's Night — Halloween — in Detroit, a time for mayhem. In fact, almost the entire film takes place at night. There are nearly no daytime shots. It's a gothic masterpiece.
While some aspects of the film have not aged well, it still has an appeal, though I'm increasingly blood-shy these days. It is a gory film, after all. The bad guys are rough sketches without nuance or soul. They are grotesque caricatures, meant only for destruction. And there's plenty of destruction. One by one, Lee's character, Eric Draven (note the inclusion of "raven" in his name, as in Eric *thee* Raven) murders the men who raped and murdered his fiance.
The heart of the film is revenge. I sat and watched and thought about all the people in my life who have hurt me. Granted, no one murdered me or my fiance (only, perhaps, internally) and there was no rape (well, actually). It's a lot of people after I tallied up just some of them. Many of them are people close to me like family, like my ex-wife. There's so much pain that was inflicted on me unnecessarily, callously, seemingly with malice. And I was a tough kid. I wasn't being overly sensitive. How I've softened over the years, given how much I've been hurt, I'll never know. My heart is more capable of loving now than before all of those things happened. That's nothing short of a miracle.
What struck me as strange is how much revenge I could seek. Yet I seek none. I truly do not want to hurt anyone who has hurt me. I want them to find whatever it is they're missing in their lives. I wish them no harm whatsoever. I've recognized a need to protect myself and my tender heart, yet I find nothing in me that wants to hurt or punish anyone who has hurt me. Instead, I have found myself praying for those people.
The Crow came about during the beginning of the grunge years, at a time when metal was giving away to a different sound. The soundtrack of this film is a snapshot of that time period. Fittingly, the movie begins with The Cure, a perennial goth favorite. The movie is dark, and even the colors are desaturated. Yet, ultimately, this film is about love, for we see a dying Draven reunited with his fiance (perhaps only in his mind) at the end of the film. The film's most memorable quote — "It can't rain all the time." — finally makes sense, as the darkness and rain lift in the final moments.
It's sometimes worthwhile to take a walk down memory lane. With music and movies, especially, you find they remain stuck in time while you are the thing that has changed. There are so many moments I wish I could hold on to forever, and perhaps I can in my mind. There are so many things I've missed out on. I've endured a comical amount of hurt, yet I love more today than yesterday. That, I suppose, is a resurrection of a different sort. And the most amazing.
Comments
Post a Comment