There's a cruel irony that a film about being trapped between two worlds, unable to die yet not quite alive has itself been trapped in a production limbo for twenty odd years. Limping from one director and star to another, The Crow has been a project that's seen directors like Stephen Norrington and Corin Hardy attached, along with actors like Luke Evans and Jason Momoa, only to wind up with Rupert Sanders at the helm and Bill Skarsgård in the title role.
The Crow follows the basic premise of the James O'Barr comic book and the 1994 adaptation from Alex Proyas. Eric Draven (Bill Skarsgård) and his girlfriend Shelley (FKA Twigs) are brutally attacked, resulting in Shelley's death. But Eric is given a chance to save her soul by a mysterious figure in purgatory who speaks on behalf of the crows, who bestow Eric with invulnerability and a drive for revenge.
Neither Proyas' version nor Sanders' have yet to capture the scream of rage that O'Barr's comic book really had. O'Barr famously wrote his comic book as a means of coming to terms with the death of his girlfriend from a drunk driver, and the violence that leaves Eric and Shelley dying is random and cruel. Both '94 and '24 feel the need to wrap the violence in a kind of logic that doesn't serve the injustice. Random violence feels more suited to this story.
The original's cult status, powered partly by the tragic and untimely death of its star Brandon lee has led to an element of pushback, but there's no reason to think a new version cannot exist. Lee's iconic turn isn't tarnished by a moder remake and the original is far from perfect. There's room to take a fresh approach to the material, but there's none to be found here.
Sanders, who directed 2012's Snow White and the Huntsman and 2017's Ghost in the Shell remake, is perhaps most famous for his on-set affair with Kristen Stewart that ended the K-Stew / R-Patz romance, is not a director of great depth. He's all style and no substance, and while Skarsgård and Twigs have a good chemistry and commit to the sub- Sid-and-Nancy love story, there's no real sense of anything dark or dramatic happening.

Ultimately the difference between this film and the original is the difference between emo and grunge. Draven here is all tattoos and anguished looks into the middle distance, and Shelley is a dope smoking underwear model but neither feel like real people. This is a stylised world where rehab centres are essentially military boots camps, and all people over thirty love nothing but opera and wearing a sharp suit. It has the pomp of emo without any of grunge's grubbiness.
To this end it's a shame that the film is rated 15 because the film could find an audience in Hot Topic-obsessed teenagers and aspiring Soundcloud rappers. The action, when it comes, is neither horrific nor cool, making it a sludge filled chore of loud gunfire and wince inducing slashing, but to no real end except to punctuate a faux-descent into hell. There's also a laughably lame climax that robs us of some top hammy evil from Danny Huston, wasted here in a flat villain role.
For a film all about the living and the dead this one's DOA and there's no amount of needle-drops that can bring it back. Better to let it rest in peace.
The Crow is in cinemas from 23rd August