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by Allan Fish
Which way to Shell Beach?
p Andrew Mason d Alex Proyas w Alex Proyas, Lem Dobbs, David S.Goyer ph
Dariusz Wolski ed Dov Hoenig m Trevor Jones art Patrick Tatopoulos, George
Liddle
Rufus Sewell (John Murdoch), Kiefer Sutherland (Dr Daniel Schreber), William
Hurt (Inspector Frank Bumstead), Jennifer Connelly (Emma Murdoch), Ian
Richardson (Mr Book), Richard O’Brien (Mr Hand), Melissa George (May), Colin
Friels (Det.Eddie Walenski), Bruce Spence (Mr Wall), John Bluthal (Uncle Karl),
Quite possibly the most left field entry in this selection, and certainly the most
left field of modern times, Alex Proyas’ cult sci -fi opus is one of those films you
just love or loathe. Indeed, the same could be true of many a cult sci -fi film of the
1990s, and there were many of them. Each of us has our favourite – Gattaca for
some, Cube for others, The Fifth Element for the adolescents among us and The
Matrix for a good many more. Yet, whereas the Wachowski brothers’ hit now
looks to have increasingly less to it than meets the eye, Dark City, now restored
and reedited for the 10th anniversary release, is a film I can put on any time, and
appreciate on numerous levels, while still being critical of some of its detail and
narrative construction. The most important aspect of understanding the film and
its ambitions ironically comes during the closing credits where the dedication
reads “in memory of Dennis Potter, with gratitude and admiration.” Those who
have been baffled by the great TV writer’s work, especially the valedictory Cold
Lazarus, will know where I’m coming from.
John Murdoch wakes up in the bath and finds the half naked corpse of a
young prostitute in the next room. Escaping just prior to his arrest, he is drawn
on into searching for the reasons for his effective amnesia, of his wife, his life,
and, perhaps, the murders he may or may not have committed. While being
sought by both the Inspector in charge of the murder case, the latest in a string of
Ripper-like killings, and his wife, he comes to learn that the whole environment
in which he and the citizens of the nameless city live is changed every 24 hours at
midnight, by alien creatures known as Strangers, who fashioned the city from
stolen memories from different eras, and wipe the minds of the populace every
night.
Proyas gathers together a starry cast for his sci-fi mindbender, and it
could be argued that they are really pawns in his hand. Rufus Sewell is called
upon to glower as only he can, Jennifer Connolly does little but look good in
forties-style wardrobe, Ian Richardson and Richard O’Brien are there to add
gravitas and creepiness respectively, Kiefer Sutherland does his best Peter Lorre
as Dr Gogol impression and a young Melissa George pops up to display her
shapely curves before getting herself cut to ribbons. William Hurt does manage
to act almost as the audience by proxy as the doubtful inspector, and steals the
show. In reality, the film is one about ideas, about metaphysical concepts and
about design. Evoking memories as far -reaching as Metropolis, divers films noir,
Blade Runner and Brazil, while itself surely influencing the equally sinister
‘Gentlemen’ in a legendary e pisode of Buffy, it’s a visually stunning ride. Coated
in a distinct, sickly green tinge that lends an appropriate sense of decay to the
feel of the film, and shot with gorgeous clarity by Darius Wolski, it’s one of the
great visual stunners of recent times. The imagination on display is quite simply
staggering, the whole notion of ‘tuning’, where the Strangers literally alter the
environment by bending it to their awe, is as simple as it is breathtaking (and a
decade before Inception). As is the realisation of a world where doors can appear
in walls and vanish again, people can be moved dozens of feet into the air simply
by the person’s will, or buildings can shrink into the ground or grow up out of it,
and where our lost memories and doubts can be ascer tained from a child’s wax
Crayola drawing. Who cares that it’s flawed in parts, the imagination overrides
this, and ensures a film whose reputation will not only grow but whose cult will
grow with it
