Entry 107: The Shadow (1994)

The Shadow (1994)

Dir: Russell Mulcahy

"Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men?"

   

Hey, I told you guys before; they aren't ALWAYS gonna be sleazy!  The bulk of this blog will ALWAYS focus on exploitative flicks from the 60s-80s, but occasionally I like to take a detour into big-budget, mainstream releases; ESPECIALLY those that have kind of slipped through the cracks of our collective pop-culture consciousness over the years.  So break out your fedora, but on your blackest trenchcoat and journey into the Basement with me as I discover what evil lurks in the hearts of men with The Shadow!

In a truly bizarre prologue, we meet Lamont Cranston (Alec Baldwin, Beetlejuice, Miami Blues), a Caucasian opium lord in post-WWI Mongolia (?!) with a weird goth-rock look.  Through plot contrivances I can't fully explain (and I was sober AND giving the film my full attention), he runs afoul of a martial arts-fighting mystic who offers to teach him his magical ways of combat so that he might use them to atone for his sins and fight evil.  Cranston says "Fuck it.  Why not?"

Several years later, Cranston has moved back to America, settled in NYC and used his ill-gotten opium money to become an eligible playboy bachelor by day.  By night, however, he dons a black fedora and trenchcoat, red scarf and twin .45s and becomes the Shadow, scourge of the city's underworld!  In addition to his fearsome visage and weaponry, he has the ability to turn invisible, cause selective amnesia with a gaze and has some sort of ill-defined psychic powers ("the Shadow knows!").  He also has a ring of informants/assistants scattered around the city, led by cab driver Moe (Peter Boyle, Joe, Young Frankenstein, who seems to be having a blast in this crazy movie).  Out to dinner one evening, Cranston meets Margo Lane (Penelope Ann Miller, Kindergarten Cop, The Relic), with whom he shares a psychic link.  That's pretty cool, because she's a sexy babe who quickly becomes smitten with our dour hero.  Significantly LESS cool is that Cranston shares the same link with the newly arrived Shiwan Khan (John Lone, Iceman, The Last Emperor), who also shares many of the Shadow's mystic, vaguely-Asian powers.  The last descendant of Genghis Khan, the evil Shiwan is determined to finish his ancestor's mission of conquest by destroying NYC with a proto-atom bomb (Yeah, it doesn't make any goddamn sense to me, either).  The Shadow and his allies race against time to defeat Khan, ending in a "psychic" duel in which our hero manages to get the upper hand and lobotomize Khan!

When Warner Brothers released Tim Burton's Batman in 1989, in was a wildly successful smash-hit, and every one of the major studios wanted a Batman of their own.  Unfortunately, Warner Brothers owned the entire roster of DC characters, and all of Marvel's world-famous heroes were locked up in dead-end deals with Corman and Golan-Globus or mired in legal copyright problems.  In response, the other studios looked to indie comics (Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (1990), The Rocketeer (1991), Judge Dredd (1995), newspaper strips (Dick Tracy, (1990), The Phantom (1996), or, in the case of The Shadow. pulp novels.  It seemed like a perfect idea; the Shadow had started as a radio drama persona before making the leap to the pulps and, eventually, his own comic book licensed to DC.  In addition, Burton's brooding, gothic take on Batman had much more in common with noir-inspired pulp heroes than it did with colorful, contemporary superheroes.  Though I ragged on it a bit in my summary, The Shadow is about half a really solid movie.  Baldwin is likeable as Cranston and appropriately menacing as the Shadow, and he's supported by a phenomenal cast that includes, in addition to the names already mentioned, James Hong (Blade Runner, Big Trouble in Little China), Tim Curry (The Rocky Horror Picture Show, Clue) and Ian McKellan (The Keep, every Lord of the Rings movie).  Mulcahy (Razorback, Highlander-an underappreciated director who had bad luck picking scripts) does an admirable job of aping the dark, occasionally manic energy of Burton's Batflicks while toning down the expressionism and ghoulishness (honestly, this film probably comes closer to the tone and feel of the Batman comics than any of the Batman movies).  It's got great, noirish cinematography by DePalma regular Steve Burum, striking costumes by Bob Ringwood (Excalibur, Dune and...um...Batman) and elaborate, period-appropriate production design by Joseph Nemec III (Terminator 2: Judgement Day).  Where the movie fails (and fails fucking HARD) is in the nonsensical script by David Koepp (Jurassic Park, Spider-Man).  From its baffling Mongolian prologue to its nebulous "psychic duel" ending, this picture makes no fucking sense!  How, exactly, did the Shadow get his powers?  Why, exactly, did he decide to give up being a drug lord to fight crime?  Why does he share a psychic link with Margo?  Why does he share a psychic link with Khan?  Why does Khan want to blow up NYC instead of just using his psychic powers to conquer it (at one point in the movie, he ACTUALLY DEMONSTRATES that he's capable of mass-hypnotism!).  The problem is that the Shadow has appeared in many mediums over the years and, in each one, has slightly different powers/abilities.  In trying to combine all of them, and add a couple new ones, Koepp lays out WAY MORE than he can explain in a 100-minute movie AND still tell an engaging story.  Also, as a personal irritant, Baldwin is in the Shadow costume for MAYBE 15 minutes of screen time; beyond that, it's a LOT of Lamont Cranston running around in a tuxedo looking smug/slightly mysterious.  Anyway, The Shadow was a major commercial failure upon it's initial release, partly because it had the misfortune to open opposite The Lion King and the inexplicably-popular The Mask, and partially because audiences already seemed a little tired of the brooding, gothic superhero trope.  Shadow action figures, costumes and making-of books collected dust and were clearanced out.  Sadly, as a result of the film's failure, Mulcahy's A-list career officially came to an end and he was banished to the realm of direct-to-video and syndicated television.  Despite it's flaws, I hope he feels vindicated knowing that his film at least has aged better than the fucking Mask.  He probably doesn't.