Editor’s Note: This was originally published for FANGORIA on April 19, 2001, and we’re proud to share it as part of The Gingold Files.
Before Scream was even a twinkle in Kevin Williamson’s eye, Dimension had its first genre hit in early 1994 with The Crow, which remains one of the best films in the studio’s library. And like any of the company’s movies to achieve a measure of success, The Crow became subject to sequelization in the years since. While the results were mixed at best, the whole franchise is shown off to good advantage in Dimension’s DVD boxed set, which overcomes a few shortcomings to stand as a worthwhile investment.
To begin with, the first film has been graced with a new transfer that outdoes any previous home release. Letterboxed at 1.77:1, it looks stunning, with excellent colors, rich, moody blacks and sharp contrast; like all three films in the set, it boasts dynamic Dolby Digital and DTS Surround soundtracks. Occasional grain shows up (usually in optical FX shots), but that hardly detracts from the atmosphere. The original movie actually comes in a two-disc package, with the second disc devoted to a wide range of supplements. These include three “Extended Scenes,” the most notable a much longer version of the shootout at Top Dollar’s hideout that here attains John Woo-esque proportions; a montage of deleted footage (mostly just outtakes, though you can catch a glimpse of the Skull Cowboy); eye-catching alternative poster designs; and production design shots and storyboards, the latter highlighted by more Skull Cowboy material.
The most notable feature is a revealing half-hour on-camera interview with comics creator James O’Barr, who discusses the troubled childhood that led him to teach himself drawing, the death of his fiancée that inspired The Crow and the comic’s trek to publication and the big screen. (One executive, he informs, wanted to turn the project into a musical with Julian Temple directing Michael Jackson!) Each movie is accompanied by a short making-of documentary, and the first film’s is the best, packed with interviews with the cast and crew. It’s startling to see a vivacious Brandon Lee talking enthusiastically about the film, and moving when he discusses his approach to playing a character who has died; the featurette is dedicated to his memory.
Not nearly as significant a loss, but one that is definitely felt on the two discs, is the complete absence of director Alex Proyas. He appears nowhere in the documentary or on the audio commentary that accompanies the feature; he originally had a major part in the project, but circumstances led to his contributions being deleted. The commentary that does appear features only producer Jeff Most and the film’s first writer, John Shirley; they take their time even bringing up Proyas and Schow’s names, and their talk seems overly concerned with thematics for a while. They do eventually get into production specifics, though, and end up presenting a well-rounded view of the inspirations and effort that went into making this seminal movie.
The director (Tim Pope) is also AWOL on the commentary for The Crow: City of Angels, though he does turn up on the film’s featurette (created before the movie’s release). His absence is odd considering that this DVD presents the “Director’s Cut,” which is about six minutes longer but not appreciably better than the original release version. The movie does, however, look significantly better than it did in theaters, its 1.85:1 transfer boasting very stable colors and a sharp image, with remarkably little grain for such a smoky, drably lit film.
An explanation as to why Pope sat out the commentary can be gleaned from production designer Alex McDowell’s repeated references on it to behind-the-scenes creative differences. Pope and his team apparently were aiming for an “art film,” only for the movie to be, in McDowell’s words, “brutally hacked by the end” by the producers. For his part, Most only mentions one scene being deleted (and doesn’t say which); also on the commentary are actor Richard Brooks, composer Graeme Revell (who has plenty of interesting things to say about film scoring in general and his work on this movie in particular) and costume designer Kirstin Everberg. She and McDowell (her husband) additionally provide detailed commentary on a featurette that presents a collection of their designs-and reveals that the cartoon figure on the drug bags is a caricature of producer Ed Pressman!
The director finally makes an appearance on the commentary for The Crow: Salvation. This straight-to-video entry is somewhat better than City of Angels, but by this point in the supernatural-avenger stakes, the storyline comes off as hopelessly redundant, and the evocative desolation of the original is replaced by a low-budget look that just feels underpopulated and underbudgeted. Once again, though, the 1.85:1 transfer grants the movie a slick visual polish, with strong hues and a crisp picture.
And if nothing else, one gets the sense from the commentary that the filmmakers (Most and director Bharat Nalluri) were at least trying to do something slightly different, aiming for a more realistic approach with a younger hero. That protagonist, Eric Mabius, is the only lead actor to take part in the commentaries, and has many thoughtful things to say about his approach to the role and living up to Lee’s legacy. Other supplements include the shortest making-of documentary of the bunch (on which O’Barr gives Salvation his seal of approval), a gallery of production art (whose fine-art influences are noted, but not shown), a brief segment on KNB’s special makeup and the most interesting featurette on either sequel: a look at the training and filming of the movies’ crows-actually ravens-with behind-the-scenes footage from all three films.
