LYT's Weblog

The rap on Keanu Reeves is that he’s a bad actor, which isn’t quite true -- he’s a pretty good actor within a very limited range. No-one questions the notion that he can play “spaced out.” Here, he plays pissed-off, and it works well; the only other time he’s done that that I can recall was in The Gift, and he was saddled with an unfortunate (but hilarious) Southern accent there. Perhaps after reading the Matrix Revolutions reviews he got into character. Or maybe he just listened to the comic fanboys complain about him.

As John Constantine, he’s basically an R-rated version of Van Helsing, exorcising errant halfbreed demons not to protect humanity, but because he sees it as a numbers game that might ultimately redeem his soul from the mortal sin he committed a few years back. Among his weapons are a crucifix shotgun and Jesus-brand brass knuckles. All he’s missing is the Holy Hand Grenade.

As is par for the course for most religious-based supernatural thrillers, little mention is made of redemption through Jesus, nor does he appear, though Satan does. Most likely this is because screenwriters hate to put words in Christ’s mouth. No-one’s going to complain if Satan gets maligned, however. Interestingly, many supernatural characters seem to have English accents -- among them Tilda Swinton as an androgynous angel and Bush singer Gavin Rossdale as a demon (like, duh!) -- which only serves to rub it in that Constantine isn’t, at least in this telling.

There are many nice scenes throughout, which one might not expect from a first-time feature director like Francis Lawrence. A possessed man walking through a field of cattle, which promptly drop dead as he approaches. A demon made up entirely of bugs. Constantine’s trip to hell via the eyes of a cat (cats, apparently, have aspects of both heaven and hell in their very DNA). Fans of Clive Barker will find much to appreciate here, especially those disappointed by the movie version of Lord of Illusions.

On the negative side, Shia LaBeouf is out of place as the wise-cracking sidekick, much as he was in I, Robot. Like Keanu, he’s a decent actor but only in the right circumstances, which these aren’t. And the movie’s very last scene (pre-credits; there’s one more after) rankles; it smacks of Hollywood ending in a film that’s otherwise been pretty balls-to-the-wall (though not as balls-to-the-wall as the average Vertigo comic; baby steps).

Here’s hoping that in the sequel, Constantine becomes a major ass again. He’s no fun as a nice guy.