A small mining town is torn apart by strife between the workers at the toxic mine that is about to be closed down, and the Native Americans on whose land the mind is, and who are about to erect a casino over the closed facility (but won’t that make a for a dangerous contaminated entertainment complex?). Stirring up trouble is Satanist David Boreanaz and his cohorts (which include Tara Reid, whom we first see as a sniper, so you know the audience is in deep, deep trouble here). As part of a r…tual, Boreanaz & co. slaughter Edward Furlong (an outcast in the community because he once killed a man) and his girlfriend. Furlong rises again for revenge.
The Crow was a deliriously stylized action film that got right to business: its young lovers were slaughtered before the movie even began. Here we have to wait until the flick is a third over before the crucial event takes place. And if the viewer isn’t already chuckling over the sight of Tara Reid trying to play Eeeee-vil, the guffaws will certainly come when Furlong dons his Crow get-up: he doesn’t look like an avenging angel; he looks like a kid a wearing a Halloween Crow costume that’s a few sizes too big. The fight scenes are pretty unconvincing, too. Let’s face it: this franchise is beating a horse that’s so dead, it’s glue.
Once again, a painful movie is given a fine gloss thanks to a nice audio track. The surround elements are copious and well placed (cars drive from rear to front, for example). The environmental sense is quite strong, and there is no distortion. So all this nonsense sounds just fine.
Th colours are solid, if not awe-inspiring, and the flesh tones and blacks are excellent. There are a few instances of very minor grain, but you have to go looking for this. The image is sharp, and the aspect ratio is 1.85:1 anamorphic widescreen. So the packaging is fine, even if the content isn’t.
There are many discs out there that skimp on extras. This one gives you more than you could possibly want. This direct-to-video exercise in the ridiculous has FOUR commentary tracks. Director Lance Mungia, clearly proud of his work, shows up on all of them, accompanied by producer/co-writer Jeff Most on the first; DP Kurt Brabbee, editor Dean Holland and sound designer Steven Avila on the second; composer Jamie Christopherson on the third, and Furlon on the fourth. Everything imaginable is covered, and Most and Mungia, to their credit, had some real ideas for the movie, even if they weren’t necessarily good ideas. The overrepresentation of commentary tracks makes the featurettes even more redundant. “Margaritas and Conversation” seems especially self-indulgent: Mungia and Most having a drink and talking yet more about their ideas. Want to learn still more about the score? Then turn to “Jamie’s Attic: Inside the Mind and Studio of the Composer.” “El Pinto” looks at the cars used in the film. And then you have your more general making-of featurette, “Wings and a Prayer.” There’s more to come: storyboards for the Black Moth Bar sequence, two deleted scenes, two photo galleries (one is production stills, while the other – “Wicked Prayers: A Photographic Journey” – is a scored montage of landscapes and other shots, many of which are labelled), and some trailers before the menu. Said menu is basic, which makes it the only thing not to get the overkill treatment.
I’ve never seen so many extras for such a terminally mediocre work. Oh well, enjoy.
Special Features List
- 4 Audio Commentaries
- Deleted Scenes
- 4 Making-of Featurettes
- 2 Photo Galleries