Gosh—I mostly wanna talk about how this movie came out in 1990—which I must’ve known going in, even if the broader context escaped me. That’s just one year after Batman! It’s the same year as Dick Tracy! And a full decade before X-Men! I point this out because I was ready to dismiss Darkman as a mid-90’s throwaway—with a little style, sure, but not much more than The Shadow or The Phantom—but given the timing, I don’t think that’s fair. Director Sam Raimi’s braving the frontier of the modern superhero movie here, and while not always successful, he’s playing with composition in an attempt to emulate the madcap motion of the comic book page—a whopping thirteen years before Ang Lee would take his own (middling) crack at the screen qua panel. I should point out that Darkman isn’t actually based on a comic book, but the references, I think, are clear: the old gangster and horror books that a generation of early 90’s filmmakers grew up on (and which were (frankly) obsolete by the time I got to the comic racks). So who is Darkman then? A disfigured scientist, of course, whose full-body nerve damage produces fits of superhuman strength (and rage!), and who also happens to have invented a machine that can 3D print human skin masks (think Mission: Impossible meets one of those metal pin toys) that (naturally) dissolve into goo after 99 minutes. If all that sounds ridiculous and convoluted—well, good! Darkman works best when it's ridiculous and convoluted. I was shocked (shocked!) that this came out two years before Army of Darkness: the set pieces feel incredibly self-assured for so early in Raimi’s career, and his signature brand of horror comedy, while always lurking (that finger box!), feels streamlined, controlled (lol save for one scene at a carnival freak show—but I’m not complaining!). But I’m afraid the movie drags in the moments in-between—which is nice way for me to say that the leads here stink. Liam Neeson and Frances McDormand are obviously very talented, very accomplished actors—but they never surrender to the B-movie melodrama of it all. I read, later, that Raimi campaigned for Bruce Campbell to play the title role, and that, in a nutshell, is Darkman’s problem: the gaping chasm between Michael Collins and Evil Dead’s Ash. The villains aren’t much better—Darkman’s gotta tear through a bunch of generic gangsters (though I could pick Ted Raimi out of any crowd) to get to the big bad, a Trumpian real estate tycoon who’s inexplicably able to match Darkman in their final fight (and who wields a nail gun as big as Ripley’s flamethrower). And Danny Elfman’s also here to rip-off his own Batman score. But that being said! I certainly wasn’t, like, mad! And I actually find Darkman incredibly interesting in relation to Raimi’s next superhero movie—or rather, there’s no way to watch Liam (or let’s face it, his stunt double) swing from a helicopter or a skyscraper and not see a direct blueprint for 2002’s (massive) Spider-Man. Anyway, I guess people must’ve liked Darkman just fine at the time—or enough to warrant two direct-to-video sequels starring The Mummy’s Arnold Vosloo (which honestly sounds a lot more fun). But I’m afraid I won’t be clamoring to recommend it to anyone beyond a Raimi completionist— and even then, I’m most certainly gonna tell you to watch Xena first.
Next time! We’re off to the starlit reaches of—Long Island!