As I write this, there's a rerun of "Close To Home" on TV; despite the fact that Jennifer Finnigan isn't a two-time Oscar winner like Hilary Swank or a BAFTA-winning international sex fantasy like Scarlett Johansson, any episode is much, much better than "The Black Dahlia." It shouldn't be that way.
Brian DePalma and cameras remain a good combination, but even his wizardry can only give this sow's ear so much of a silk purse treatment; James Ellroy's novel must have been better than Josh Friedman's script makes it seem. Ostensibly based on the real-life unsolved 1947 murder of Elizabeth Short, the movie might have been better if it had stayed focused on said horrible crime - but from the off, when Josh Hartnett's endless voice-over kicks in over riot scenes, we're in more for a drama about a cop. And a not very interesting cop at that (Hartnett seems about as hard-edged as Hong Kong Phooey).
A fuzziness in execution is this movie's downfall; the murder of Miss Short almost seems to take a back seat to a whole load of other things, and if our hero is supposed to be obsessed enough that he falls for a woman who looks like her it doesn't come off, in part because Hilary Swank doesn't look much like Mia Kirshner. At all. (That Kirshner, seen almost exclusively in film footage, delivers a more heartfelt performance than the caricatured Miss Swank doesn't help her case.) This also makes the implied ending of the movie fairly senseless - the main murder is solved in this movie (it may be a "This comment may contain spoilers" review, but I won't give away the killer's identity), but given that the real Black Dahlia lived a wild life and got the name because of her fondness for the colour black, and that a key character who winds up dead has a wild life and loves wearing black, if we're supposed to be thinking that she's the "real" Black Dahlia (the man who kills her is, by implication, never made to pay for his crime) it leaves a bad taste in the mouth. And renders the preceding two hours or so utterly pointless... or should that be, even more pointless, since we've been made privy to several utterly confusing plot points that come along without rhyme or reason, until the impression is left near the end that the makers realised they've got to tie together everything somehow, never mind if it doesn't make sense.
To make matters worse, the movie manages to take story factors like lipstick lesbianism (and the genuine article), boxing cops, what used to be called "stag" films, riots, and gruesome murders and make the entire movie dull and uninvolving. The acting doesn't help for the most part (except for Aaron Eckhart, Mia "girls on girls a specialty" Kirshner and a nice cameo from Rose McGowan, most of the cast don't seem to be in the spirit - Scarlett in particular never looks at ease, though the script is more to blame), with Fiona Shaw particularly excruciating as Hilary's mum. And Mark Isham's score is reminiscent of Jerry Goldsmith's score for "L.A. Confidential," but not as good.
"The Black Dahlia" is, paradoxically, both good to look at and a bad watch.
Brian DePalma and cameras remain a good combination, but even his wizardry can only give this sow's ear so much of a silk purse treatment; James Ellroy's novel must have been better than Josh Friedman's script makes it seem. Ostensibly based on the real-life unsolved 1947 murder of Elizabeth Short, the movie might have been better if it had stayed focused on said horrible crime - but from the off, when Josh Hartnett's endless voice-over kicks in over riot scenes, we're in more for a drama about a cop. And a not very interesting cop at that (Hartnett seems about as hard-edged as Hong Kong Phooey).
A fuzziness in execution is this movie's downfall; the murder of Miss Short almost seems to take a back seat to a whole load of other things, and if our hero is supposed to be obsessed enough that he falls for a woman who looks like her it doesn't come off, in part because Hilary Swank doesn't look much like Mia Kirshner. At all. (That Kirshner, seen almost exclusively in film footage, delivers a more heartfelt performance than the caricatured Miss Swank doesn't help her case.) This also makes the implied ending of the movie fairly senseless - the main murder is solved in this movie (it may be a "This comment may contain spoilers" review, but I won't give away the killer's identity), but given that the real Black Dahlia lived a wild life and got the name because of her fondness for the colour black, and that a key character who winds up dead has a wild life and loves wearing black, if we're supposed to be thinking that she's the "real" Black Dahlia (the man who kills her is, by implication, never made to pay for his crime) it leaves a bad taste in the mouth. And renders the preceding two hours or so utterly pointless... or should that be, even more pointless, since we've been made privy to several utterly confusing plot points that come along without rhyme or reason, until the impression is left near the end that the makers realised they've got to tie together everything somehow, never mind if it doesn't make sense.
To make matters worse, the movie manages to take story factors like lipstick lesbianism (and the genuine article), boxing cops, what used to be called "stag" films, riots, and gruesome murders and make the entire movie dull and uninvolving. The acting doesn't help for the most part (except for Aaron Eckhart, Mia "girls on girls a specialty" Kirshner and a nice cameo from Rose McGowan, most of the cast don't seem to be in the spirit - Scarlett in particular never looks at ease, though the script is more to blame), with Fiona Shaw particularly excruciating as Hilary's mum. And Mark Isham's score is reminiscent of Jerry Goldsmith's score for "L.A. Confidential," but not as good.
"The Black Dahlia" is, paradoxically, both good to look at and a bad watch.