Comic
book movies traditionally don`t work. Translating from one entertainment
medium to another is a difficult process. Just ask Marvel Comics, which
until the recent successes of X-Men and Blade, was the victim of numerous
abysmal comic-to-film translations. Even DC Comics, which found success
in the early films of the Batman and Superman franchises, fell victim as
those series progressed, or with such misfires as Supergirl and Steel.
So
perhaps it's only fitting that Top Cow Productions should join the group
with Witchblade. Call it an unfortunate but seemingly necessary initiation,
of sorts. While the comic book series has enjoyed wild success at times,
propelling the company into the comics' spotlight, that previous success
by no means guaranteed its future. Or present, as is the case with TNT's
Witchblade tele-film.
The
movie loosely adapts the first eight issues of the comic book series, recounting
police detective Sara Pezzini's (Yancy Butler) first encounter and bonding
with the titular Witchblade gauntlet. A street-tough cop loaded with plenty
of the requisite angst and grit, Sara at the film's beginning is pursing
a gangster named Gallo (Conrad Dunn), who she's convinced killed her former
best friend-turned-junkie whore. She has no proof of course, but that doesn't
stop the all-righteous, "I'm the only one who knows what I'm talking about"
detective from hounding Gallo relentlessly (does it ever?).
For
his part, Gallo, like all stupid TV-mobsters, enjoys flaunting his crimes
and blatantly threatening Sara and her partner Danny Woo (William Yun Lee).
During one such encounter, wholly instigated by Sara, she pursues one of
Gallo's henchmen to a nearby museum where she--what else in an origin story--inadvertently
discovers her grand destiny by finding and joining with the Witchblade.
A mysterious, magical weapon, the gauntlet has traveled the ages, passing
from one select female bearer to the other, Joan of Arc being the most
prominent and recent. All Witchblade bearers possess some indiscernible
connection that sets them apart from the mere mortals of the world, and
in Sara's case we're led to believe it has something to do with exceptional
courage, an apparently rare trait in the Witchblade universe.
After
surviving an explosion caused by the Witchblade, which conveniently kills
Gallo's henchman, Sara spends the next hour and a half trying to comprehend
this strange weapon that's been bestowed upon her. And of course, when
she's not dazed and confused by it, she continues stalking Gallo, whose
disregard for self-incrimination borders on ridiculous. Driven by a lust
for revenge she'll never admit, couching it as "Justice," Sara draws upon
the Witchblade's inexplicable powers to learn via visions of Gallo's true
guilt (which, if killing her best friend wasn't enough, also includes killing
her police officer father years earlier). Never minding that her single-mindedness
gets her partner, Woo, killed, or that such "evidence" would be thrown
out in any court of law, her vendetta leads inevitably to a final confrontation
with Gallo that--surprise!--finds her resigned to her role as the latest
Witchblade bearer and bringing its full powers to bear against him.
If
that wasn't enough, throw into the whole mix a mysterious billionaire named
Kenneth Irons (Anthony Cistaro), who possesses an equally mysterious fascination
with, and connection to, the Witchblade, as well as his enigmatic henchman,
Ian Nottingham (Eric Etebari). Irons has an stake is seeing Sara assume
the Witchblade mantle, but it's an agenda that's never revealed, obviously
meant to be unraveled should the film, which doubles as a pilot, go to
series.
If
that happens, one hopes that the producers will rethink their approach
to the series. In trying to make it more realistic and reality-based than
the comic, the film loses the flair that set Witchblade's fantasy world
apart. Ironically, what does take on more fantastical trappings is the
film's unrealistic approach to the characters and situations. Gallo's a
two-dimensional villain at best. One wonders how he ever rose the crime-lord
ladder, for his big mouth and dirty hands should have placed him in jail
years ago, provided he wasn't whacked first for being too big a liability.
Similarly,
Sara's boss, Joe Siri (Kenneth Welsh), partner Woo, and new partner, Jake
McCartey (David Chokachi), are all props, given little to do but slide
along the checkerboard as plot devices used to move the story forward.
And Nottingham and Irons (who doesn't even make an appearance until the
fourth act), dance about Sara coyly, providing the requisite shadowy figures
who're poised to manipulate her for their own purposes down the road (again,
in a supposed series), rendering their introductions here largely pointless
to the story at hand. In fact, we're never given adequate enough introduction
to them to feel their implicit threat. Instead, we're left with a would-be
benefactor who has a cryptic jazz for the Witchblade, and a Yoda-like henchman
who fights too perfectly, broods endlessly and dispenses worthless nuggets
of supposed wisdom. Rather than adding true mystery, they're every bit
as artificial as Siri, Woo and Jake, positioned to give the Witchblade
an aura and depth it doesn't earn.
For
her part, star Yancy Butler gives a strong performance as Sara, but nonetheless
she's given a narrow window within which to emote -- angry and confused.
She does manage to inject the role with a certain wryness, but it's not
enough to overcome the film's inherent constraints. The film simply tries
too hard to escape its comic book trappings and position itself in the
real world, but makes the fatal mistake of landing squarely in the world
of bad TV. Sara's blood feud with Gallo is the stuff of too many bad cop
shows. And her struggles to understand and eventually accept the Witchblade,
what should be the most imaginative part of the show, is underdeveloped
and consists largely of visual flashbacks.
What
we're left with is a bad crime story, interspersed with fantastical elements
that, instead of filling us with wonder, function simply to replace the
need for proper police work such as forensics and evidence building, and
to supply a mock-moral justification for Sara's desire for revenge. While
this extremism may work in the world of comic book super heroics, it's
at odds with the film's apparent attempt to be taken more seriously. It's
the gauntlet and all its associated mysteries that should be rendered fantastic,
not Sara's supposedly real world. And simply interspersing these moments
with mood music and an overabundance of simplistic visual effects (such
as compositing a real-time Sara against the accelerated flow of traffic
behind her or momentarily freeze-framing action sequences), can't cover
these flaws. In fact, they only draw further attention to the dichotomy.
One
hopes that if Witchblade does go to series, the creators will allow the
show to accept and recognize its real-world limitations, while devoting
its creative energies to exploiting the concept of the Witchblade itself,
and its fantastical properties. If they let the characters breathe and
the settings escape their clichés, the fantastical elements of the
Witchblade will be able to unfold much more naturally and provide a real
counterpoint to the hardcore police context of Sara's world. Fantasy worlds
are much more enjoyable, and our disbelief is much more easily suspended,
if they're not viewed through the artifice of formula. Sadly, Witchblade
isn't granted that kind of freedom, and its sense of wonder is grounded
before it even has a chance to fly.
