This Film Is Not Yet Rated

2006
Director: Kirby Dick
Writers: Kirby Dick, Eddie Schmidt, Matt Patterson

Issues of censorship in art and society have always been of a lot of interest to me. I’ve always been intrigued as to why certain films or books are banned or censored at certain times, who decides what is censored, what processes are used to decide. So stories about the workings of America’s main film censorship body The Motion Picture Association of America and it’s rating system are pretty familiar to me, mostly through new stories where controversial decisions are decried as discriminatory, such as when Blue Valentine was given the highest rating of NC-17 in 2010 due to a scene featuring cunnilingus.

Anyway, popular documentary filmmaker Kirby Dick here attempts to explore the processes of the MPAA, briefly considering it’s history, before examining why it often follows the patterns of decision-making it does. Included are insightful interviews with experts on censorship and the American film industry; film directors, many of whom have had their own work subject to MPAA scrutiny; and former members of the MPAA itself. I was hoping to find the film’s disclosures more informative – I suppose the problem for me watching this now is that much of what the film exposed when it was released is now common knowledge. Revelations such as that the MPAA takes a much harsher view of sex than violence, that it seems to discriminate more against homosexual content than heterosexual, that it takes an overwhelmingly Conservative standing on issues and that all raters must be parents, these are all well known.

Frankly, most of my bafflement and perverse fascination on this topic simply comes down to the actual ratings themselves. Firstly, the fact that despite what the film shows as the raters’ own discomfort with certain films and how their content would be seen by children, any film rated R can be seen with by a child under 17 so long as they are with a parent, which I personally think defeats the whole purpose of the rating. It’s not so much that I don’t feel some teenagers can’t be allowed to see certain more explicit or challenging films, it’s more that very young kids can legally be taken to see something like any of the Saw films, which whilst they were cut to achieve an R rating, are still gratuitously violent.

Meanwhile, secondly, films which are rated NC-17 (the highest rating, no children under 17 allowed) are very often refused to be shown in most commercial cinemas or be stocked in shops like Wal-Mart, because of the unfortunate and mistaken assumption that they’re porn. Hence why many films with genuine artistic intentions by great directors (the film shows a huge list of them) either have to be cut to gain an R and thus any sort of major release, or go out unrated and be shown in the bare minimum of cinemas, with practically no ability to gain any form of mainstream advertising.

It’s a whole system I find totally bizarre. It makes me grateful for how the British equivalent, the British Board of Film Classification, is so open and balanced in its methods. I’m one of those people who enjoys reading the BBFC’s Insight reports on film content; I like to know how films are rated. Which makes the MPAA’s blatant refusal to disclose any of their methods or staff more troubling. One of this film’s more powerful revelations, one I found so anyway, was the fact that the MPAA refuses to give raters names due to the risk they would be pressured by outside bodies. Yet the film exposes how much the MPAA is in the pockets of major studios (studio executives make up much of the appeals board), to the point where rating decisions on major films are often done in cooperation with studio figures. This blatant hypocrisy also leads to a discrimination against independent cinema, which doesn’t have the might of studios to fight their cause for unrestricted content. Matt Stone tells his own story of how his indie film Orgazmo was given an NC-17, and offered no assistance as to how to reduce the film to an R, meaning it got a very limited release. Meanwhile, his studio film South Park got feedback as to how to achieve an R.

The other revelation I found most bizarre is how the raters board is made up entirely of normal parents (or indeed, some adults with no children, contrary to what the MPAA claims), with no members having any sort of expertise in issues such as child psychology. People who might be better placed as to advise what might be suitable to show a child are deliberately not included. While researching an essay for uni about the release of the film Irreversible, which features an extreme scene of rape, I read about how the BBFC brought in a psychiatrist to advise about the potential impact of the scene on audiences, and used her expertise to decide that whilst the film was controversial, it wasn’t dangerous. What I found troubling is how it seems no such actions are taken at the MPAA, which shows a blatant disregard for the potential effects of what is released to whom. Indeed, any considerations of impact are only taken at an ethical level, displayed by the presence of two members of the clergy on the appeals board, which the film posits as the board’s overwhelmingly conservative leaning.

Back to the film itself, it manages to discover all these details about the board members through the use of a private investigator. A large proportion of the film follows the progress of Becky as she goes about her work, with the assistance of her girlfriend Cheryl. Whilst I found her to be an engaging screen presence, and admired her character and her honesty about her sexuality, I found the whole hidden camera investigation scenes both uninteresting and at times a bit uncomfortable. They have a whole tabloid journalism vibe to them, which I feel lowers the serious tone and purpose of the film as a whole. Whilst I can understand the intent and interest in finding out who the MPAA raters are, it feels intrusive to film how they spy on these people, including tailing their cars, filming them in restaurants, and going through their garbage (frankly, one of the facts I found most shocking in the film is that, in Los Angeles, it is legal to go through someone else’s trash so long as the bin is on the street).

Some nice graphics help illustrate much of the film’s points, and despite much of what the film was about being known to me already, I still found it overall an entertaining and fascinating insight into the workings of the MPAA. A prologue about the rating process of the film itself is especially insightful. But in the end, it feels like it could have gone a lot deeper into its investigations, and revealed even more about the MPAA. Perhaps the mainstream intentions of this movie meant it focused too much on trying to be entertaining, at the expense of giving any greater depth.

A Great Sense of Pride…

2014
Director: Matthew Warchus
Writer: Stephen Beresford

Before learning about this film, and eventually watching it, I had literally never heard of this true story about a group of London lesbian and gay activists in 1984 choosing to support a small Welsh mining town, suffering during the worst of the miners strike. And I think that’s a great shame. It seems like one of the most genuine and touching stories of solidarity and spirit during a time of great turmoil and divide. I thoroughly recommend this excellent Guardian article about the real story behind the film.

Before going into the cinema, I wondered whether my views of the film would be different from those viewers who were alive at the time of the film’s events. What was experience for a lot of people is purely history for me, and I have never had any great fascination in the strike beyond a mere historical interest. Where I live was not affected in any great way by the strike, and so there are no major political views or prejudices surviving regarding Thatcher, or the miners. I’m also privileged to live at a time when gay rights have never been so good: there is no serious prejudice against AIDS, Section 28 was repealed in 2003, the age of consent is equal with heterosexual people, and same-sex marriage is legal. The Britain of just 30 years ago depicted seems very distant to me.

Such concerns were very quickly dispelled once the film started. Frankly they don’t matter, in much the same way that good filmmaking can allow anyone to empathise with characters and situations depicted in any film, regardless of whether it is set in the present or, say, Ancient Rome. It all comes down to rich human storytelling, which is timeless. In Pride, the closest we get to a protagonist is Joe (George MacKay), a fictional 20 year old from Bromley on the verge of exploring his sexuality by engaging with gay activism in London. At a protest march he falls in with the group that would eventually become Lesbians and Gays Support the Miners (LGSM), led by Mark (Ben Schnetzer) and including co-founder Mike (Joseph Gilgun), actor Jonathan (Dominic West), and his Welsh boyfriend Gethin (Andrew Scott). Joe, politically driven, feels drawn towards helping the miners during the strikes, seeing parallels between the collective struggles of both them and gays against Thatcher’s Tory government. His proposal doesn’t go down smoothly – one man from Durham recalls how miners regularly beat him up. And any calls they make to any miners organisations are ignored. It’s not until they appeal directly to a small Welsh town that they make progress, and an unusual alliance is born.

Pride is a dense and energetic film; much is packed in. We are introduced to a wide range of characters, both activists and townspeople. Yet the film does an excellent job of giving time and depth to all of them. As well as covering the issues of the strike, it also explores homophobia both in the street and at home in the 80s, attitudes towards AIDS, and cultural clashes and parallels. Much is made of how similar the two groups prove to be – when town representative Dai (Paddy Considine) remarks that he has never met a gay person before, Mark replies he has genuinely never met a miner. Both men have to make speeches to hostile crowds, and the film, wanting us to will for them to succeed, perfectly shows how they overcome these fears.

Pride also doesn’t shy away from showing the threats and antipathies the groups face. Plenty of time and space is given to the residents who oppose the presence of the gays, as the film attempts not to villainize these people per se, but to consider the reasons why these people remain prejudiced, and to show they are human despite this. Of course, Pride and the viewers are firmly on the side of the LGSM, and every success they achieve becomes a cause for celebration.

Many films in adverts are described as “life-affirming” or “feel-good”, but this is one of the few films where it is genuinely the case. A lot of this comes down to the strength of the performances; the cream of British acting talent helps create some beautifully nuanced and relatable characters. Particular stand-outs for me were Imelda Staunton as Hefina, the fearsome but driven matriarch of the town; Paddy Considine as the calm and open-minded Dai; Jessica Gunning as Sian, the housewife who rediscovers her voice; and Bill Nighy’s wonderfully delicate and subtle role as Cliff.

So many scenes display the heart of Pride: big stand-out moments such as Dominic West’s Jonathan teaching the miners how to dance, the soundtrack swelling as he moves and sweeps down the tabletop, to an impromptu rendition of a strikers’ song by the townswomen at a meeting that leaves a lump in the throat. Yet smaller moments prove to be just as emotional – a brief conversation over the buttering of sandwiches is especially gorgeous. Frankly, there are so many scenes that make the heart swell, moments that make you want to stand up and cheer, it’s truly magnificent to watch and be a part of.

What surprised me is how much the film tries to avoid overtly politicising things. Sure, it is obvious the characters are against the Thatcher government, but nothing is explicitly labelled. Mark is presented as a Communist, but it is not a major feature of his character, and the word ‘Socialist’ is not spoken. Not that this bothers me – I generally prefer to remain apolitical while watching films. But it does reveal the film’s mainstream intentions, it’s desire not to offend. Yet thinking about it, what’s wrong with that?! In the end, this isn’t a film about politics, or even a gay film; it’s a film about human beings, and common decency. It’s remarkable to see a film where a majority of the main characters are openly gay, and where trade unionism is a major theme, reach 3rd in the UK box office. And that all comes down to the warmth of the script, and the witty observations of its comedy. Watching this is a joy, and the strength of the film’s perspective helps make the protagonists’ causes our causes – we can’t help but support them from our seats, and feel a genuine sense of pride when they succeed.

Some of the plotlines may be seen as formulaic, but the film proves to be more complex than appearances suggest. It draws upon the popular tradition of realist British comedies such as Billy Elliot, Brassed Off and The Full Monty, taking the best features and subtle moments of those films, but leaving space to explore more complex issues, such as debates about whether it is ethical for gays to openly support miners at a time when their own rights were being suppressed. But in the end, there is no doubt how the film wants you to feel, and it feel wonderful to be a part of that. Pride‘s true strength lies in making a film which is emotional, but avoids sentimentality. It’s one of the best films I’ve seen in what has already proven to be a remarkable year for cinema, and it’s really exceptional to see a rare mainstream film I believe has a true heart and soul. Go see it!

Perfect Blue

1997
Director: Satoshi Kon
Writer: Sadayuki Murai

I’ve hardly seen much Japanese anime, and the vast majority I have seen has been Studio Ghibli. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, each of the small number of their films’s I’ve seen have been masterful. But I’d been thinking about trying to see some more, by different studios and directors, and beyond the extent of stuff I watched as a kid like Dragonball Z. Back at uni, when mentioning to a friend that I’d once written about the Darren Aronofsky film Black Swan, he recommended a film called Perfect Blue, which he said covered similar themes and had a familiar tone and style. It’s only now that I’d gotten round to finding of a copy of it.

It follows Mima Kirigoe, the lead singer of a J-pop girl group called CHAM, who decides to leave the group on the verge of major success to pursue a career as an actress, much to the shock of dedicated fans, including a mysterious stalker. To the trepidation of her manager Rumi, she takes a small role in a violent thriller called ‘Double Bind’, which begins to push her pop idol image to its limit. Yet increasingly, things start to turn against Mima. After filming a violent and distressing scene, she begins to lose track of herself, beginning to question what is real or not around her. She begins to receive threatening messages, and people near her start getting attacked.

The tone and style of Perfect Blue was a lot more different to the other animes I’d seen, it being more grounded than what I’d seen before; whilst most other films I’d seen would probably be called fantasies, this was firmly rooted in the psychological thriller. It deals with real, if unusual, situations and genuine human characters. The plot deals with Hitchcockian twists and MacGuffins, and takes an increasingly paranoid tone over time. It’s at times a challenging watch – the style is overblown, but I feel this fits the needs of the diegesis perfectly. As Mima begins to lose sense of herself, the film makes it increasingly difficult to distinguish between fiction and reality. Many scenes that start out dramatically are soon proven to be segments being filmed for ‘Double Bind’. Mima’s fears begin to manifest themselves in the torments of a spectral representation of her previous pop idol-self, this being the point where the relations with Black Swan are clearest, in its Natalie Portman/Mila Kunis relationship.

Personally for me, I found the representation and usage of television most fascinating. It is unusual to see locations such as film sets and ordinary apartments on an anime, and the film exploits this ordinariness to fully harness the extremity of the later visions. Many shots are often framed on television screens to further confuse us as to whether what we are seeing is genuine. Reading some reviews of this, I can understand why some were complaining about why this couldn’t have been made as a live action film – I would say Perfect Blue is possibly most innately cinematic animation I’ve ever seen. It makes careful use of framing, as well as sequences of hallucinations, dreams and visions. But I had no qualms with the animation – I began to forget that it was hand-drawn not long after starting, and I feel it adds to the unnerving nature in some way. Perhaps the nature of animation is just more unpredictable, one where anything is possible, and that certainly aids the project of this film.

Perfect Blue somewhat hilariously shows its age, by having Mima totally unaware of what the Internet is. Also, the multiple plot strands start to become cluttered towards the end, as the dangers Mima hallucinates begin to clash with the genuine dangers in vying for the film’s attention. Further, a major plot twist near the conclusion felt unconvincing to me, it coming across as quite jarring to what had come just previously. Not that that diminishes the power this film exudes overall; it’s still a convincing and unnerving experience. Reading about the director Satoshi Kon, it was surprising to find out he died relatively young in 2010 from cancer. I’ll definitely seek out his other three feature films: I’d seen clips of his last film Paprika before, which seemed like a genuinely exciting and fascinating mind-fuck of a trip.

Some thoughts on Bestival 2014

A few days ago, I went to my first ever music festival. More than that, I was working there too, or rather, volunteering. My brother and I were also trying out Oxfam festival stewarding for the first time. So what to make of all this? It was definitely a major new event in my life, and a complete shift from near anything else I’d ever done before. I mean, I’d never even been camping before either! But overall, it ended up being something pretty special. I don’t know how Bestival compares to other festivals, but I feel it’s always going to have significance to me as my first taste of musical slumming.

My extended weekend was probably a lot more unusual than of most festival-goers, not just because I was one of about 1300 Oxfam stewards at a festival of nearly 60,000 visitors, but also because I actually spent a good deal of it by myself. It was just my brother and me who went together, and we decided to go for different shift times, meaning there were certain times when he was working and I was free to explore for myself. And what a place to explore! I adore getting lost in new places, and spending hours wandering around trying to see and learn as much as I can. Bestival was nice and vast, with all sorts of different fields and tents to discover. My natural curiosity had a great time, not only getting to see new bands and DJs, but simply to see different types of performer in the Grand Palace of Entertainment or the Ambient Forest Amphitheatre, sample some street food (I honestly had the most delicious garlic bread I’ve ever had here, of all things!), peruse the thrift stores and visit the local landmarks, such as the Inflatable Church and the world’s biggest disco ball.

Of course, it was mostly about the music, and I was lucky enough to see some really extraordinary gigs of bands both known and new. My personal highlight was Beck – I’ve been a huge fan for years, and finally getting the chance to see him after so long was a joy. Even better, he did a veritable greatest hits set, covering tracks from ‘Loser’ to great chunks of Odelay, Guero and The Information, up to three tracks off his newest Morning Phase. Never has one gig made me so happy, I was genuinely fangirling the whole way through. Whilst it sometimes felt he was simply doing the rounds, this being one set among many this summer, he and his band still put on a genuinely great show, doing a much heavier gig than I was expecting.

This also brings me onto one of the other great things about festivals – meeting people. Whilst many aren’t going to be friends for life, I couldn’t believe how easy and enthralling it was to get to know people. The vibes overall were so welcoming – everyone was glad and thrilled to be there (and yeah a good number of them were pumped with booze and MD too). It made my solo trips and gigs feel less lonely; every event had a weird feeling of belonging to it. This all sounds complete rubbish right now, but there haven’t been many other places I’ve been where everyone has been so upbeat and simply happy to be there. There were also chances to get to know some peeps more comprehensively. I met one girl, Sam, at the Beck gig, also there alone. We both really appreciated having someone to freak out with and nudge when favourite songs came on. We also chilled with a drink after at Caravanserai, and in that brief time I learnt about her job, her life the last few months and how it’s changed, as well as her music tastes and previous Bestival trips. She, and Beck of course, helped make that night probably my favourite of the whole weekend.

Anyway, back to the music. Thankfully for me, my shift hours were pretty reasonable so I was lucky enough to see a great deal of the acts I wanted to see. Tune-Yards were another highlight. Her album WHOKILL has been a regular on my iPod for years, and new album Nikki Nack is just as imaginative and playful. After seeing her Glastonbury set on TV, I couldn’t wait to see it in the flesh, and she didn’t disappoint. Primal, percussion based, with some awesome bass guitar, her band is just as upbeat as she is, and her voice is amazing live, as she multi-tasked with many instruments. It was fantastic. Another standout was Public Service Broadcasting. I’d only heard the odd track of their ramshackle rock, combining samples from old public service newsreels with their pounding art rock. It’s always spectacular finding music you instantly love, and their show was one of those moments. Somehow the broadcast clips simply work with their clever sound, which is surprisingly big considering there’s only two of them. They were genuinely excellent, and I can’t recommend them and their album Inform – Educate – Entertain highly enough.

Yep, that’s me

I was pleasantly surprised by La Roux. I would call myself a big fan, and was looking forward to their set. But I couldn’t believe how much fun it ended up being – a proper upbeat retro disco where everyone simply loved to dance. It consisted mostly of their new album, which I haven’t heard too much, but which I know to be far more sophisticated and layered than their first album. Despite their relative newness, these tracks played out really well. Of course, hearing ‘In for the Kill’ and ‘Bulletproof’ drove the crowd into a frenzy which was awesome to be a part of.

Finally, closing night gig Chic with Nile Rogers proved to be something genuinely special. Whilst it was at the main stage with huge crowds which I generally dislike (all the other sets I’ve mentioned were in the Big Top, which was still one of the bigger stages, but one where you could easily see the stage and get near the front), this was still a show which felt intimate. It was emotional – starting with the lighting up presentation of the world’s largest disco ball, Rogers then announced to the crowd that he had just been informed that his friend and former roadie Terry Brauer had died. He dedicated the gig to him, at times often on the verge of tears. But he played each song with all he had, and as the crowd cheered Terry’s name, it was genuinely moving. The show itself was incredible – covering Chic’s biggest hits like ‘Le Freak’ and ‘Good Times’, they also played a huge range of Rogers’s other Number 1s for the likes of Sister Sledge, Madonna, Duran Duran, David Bowie and Daft Punk. It was incredible to be part of a crowd where everyone knew all the words to the choruses and were boogieing down!

There was something so otherworldly about the whole festival, especially now I think back to it now a few days later. These vibes, where everything was so chilled, everyone feeling free to do what they wanted, to take a few days off, feel especially abstract and distant now I’m back home, or stuck working a shift at a job I don’t particularly enjoy. Many of the other Oxfam stewards I met work at several festivals regularly, and I can now understand the addiction. Getting any chance to help out and be part of the running of a festival is pretty exciting, and the fairly long shifts can be surprisingly fun. I was lucky to share my shifts with Anita, a professional artist from Poole who specialises in animation and regularly stewards at festivals. It was great getting to know her well and she helped make my first festival a proper experience.

Finally, I think what made my Bestival trip more unusual was that, unlike the majority of others there, I hardly drank and didn’t do any drugs. This was purely down to me wanting to be sober and ready for work, but I would definitely recommend it! Given the state of my drunk memory, and how forgetful I can get after just a few drinks, I now appreciate how much I took away from the gigs I saw, purely because I was sober. That’s not to say if I ever went again, I would never drink or anything. Going this time made me desperate to go with friends, as there were many moments which I wished I could have shared with them. It was a party, and of course I’m gonna want to get a bit fucked up sometimes, but frankly I’d feel a lot of peeps would relish in the festival even more if they stayed a little bit more sober. I now wonder why so many make the effort to get to the Isle of Wight, and pay so much for a ticket, if they’re gonna get so wasted and probably miss a lot of it. But that’s just what I’m thinking now; I’ll probably contradict myself sometime in the future. Overall though, I’m super glad I got to fully appreciate my first festival. It’s something I’ll definitely make time for. Anita recommended one called Beautiful Days, and Latitude has always been on my list!

Sin City: A Dame to Kill For

2014
Directors: Robert Rodriguez/Frank Miller
Writer: Frank Miller

The first Sin City film came out in June 2005, nine years ago. I was only 12 years old then, and had just finished my first year of secondary school. Looking at it that way seems pretty shocking to me; those nine years have encapsulated most of the more important events in my life. And in film terms too, that’s bizarrely long. I’m not totally aware of why there was such a delay, if it was scripting troubles or problems with producers or funding? It seems likely this gap was a major reason why this film seems to be failing at the box office. Me, on the other hand, I couldn’t wait! I was a huge fan of the original, having first seen it around 2008 and several more times since then, most recently last week. Rumours had been bubbling for several years, and when a trailer finally appeared, it looked fantastic. This truly looked like something to be seen on the big screen (although my viewing was slightly let down by some poor projecting, which cut off the top and bottom of the frame marginally).

Similar to the first film, A Dame to Kill For is comprised of several loosely connected but generally separate stories, all involving the shady characters of the Sin City underworld. Based upon Frank Miller’s series of graphic novels, some these plots are related to the last film, while some are original material. Confusingly for me, some are prequels and others are sequels, so already unfortunately these intertwined stories feel less cohesive. Big players Mickey Rourke, Bruce Willis, Jessica Alba and Rosario Dawson return for more; Josh Brolin replaces Clive Owen, and there are major new roles for Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Eva Green.

Also returning is the distinctive film noir hyperstyle, and the really gorgeous use of excessive high contrast black and white, with bursts of colour to add character – my favourite this time being the vivid green of Eva Green’s eyes. Neat little visual flourishes remain too, a particularly great one being when Gordon-Levitt’s Johnny, whilst losing at poker, sees himself shrunk to game size, stacks of chips around him, as he is sliced by razor-sharp cards. The consistency of style is reassuring and enjoyable, making it hard to believe it really has been nine years between films; although most of it is of course created on computers so it’s hardly difficult to recreate! 

The plotting is just as singularly driven, as characters pursue further revenge, profit or gain, and again, many encounter situations which turn out to be not what they seem. It’s pure pastiche, pure style, only lightly brushing over the themes of true film noir, such as urban decline, economic depression or entrapment. The biggest feature of A Dame to Kill For is corruption, and this gives a greater role to Powers Booth’s corrupt Senator Roarke, which is only a good thing as he is an electrifying screen presence. The simile-heavy dialogue and metaphors are back too, and just as enjoyably overblown and self-aware, although here sometimes pushed to the point of being overtly ridiculous.

A Dame to Kill For is a very entertaining voyage into the most disturbing of content turned pulp. Even the faces and the hushed gravelly voices of the actors feels just right. It’s just… something about this film didn’t feel as satisfying as the last time. A lot of reviews have pointed out how the sheer novelty and spectacle of the first film, once so distinct, has now become far more commonplace, which I suppose is partially true. But one of the reasons I was so looking forward to A Dame to Kill For was because it would be another chance to see this style done so beautifully.

Rather I feel the issues here lies with the scripting. The first film had a greater presence to it, a greater drive and purpose. Each of the three lead characters – Rourke’s anti-hero, Owen’s everyman, Willis’s tortured good guy – had a quest, a reason for doing what they were doing. Willis’s story of Hartigan looking out for Alba’s Nancy was especially effective. But this time, these stories and double crosses have less of a presence. Rourke’s Marv seems to exist purely to propagate violence for other characters’ needs. Gordon-Levitt’s Johnny’s attempt to best the corrupt senator at cards has far less of a powerful narrative force to it than that of Alba’s Nancy, who is being driven crazy by her desire for revenge. However, I found Alba less of an engaging screen presence than Willis was in the first film, with both pursuing similar aims. Finally, as much of a fan of Brolin as I am, I found his take on McCarthy far less charming than Owen’s, instead playing the character more as a bland thug repressing his personality in order to battle addictions which are mentioned only briefly. His story is dominated by Eva Green’s Ava – a charismatic and sultry take on the femme fatale, she’s definitely the best part of the film.

Overall, I found A Dame to Kill For far more rewarding than most critics, many of whom complained it was dull. Though the film shares many features directly with its predecessor, it doesn’t make it a mere carbon copy. However, this sequel is let down by poorer pacing and plotting; it feels less vital and urgent than the first time. Even though many stories end unhappily in Sin City, at least in the first film there was a sense of conclusion to them. This time however, many simply end without creating as great a sense of satisfaction. The visual fireworks are here, they’re simply less explosive.