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After leaping from his dirty pool and hastily throwing on some clothes, John explores his dingy hotel room for identifying clues. When the phone rings, it sounds like a ship's klaxon; Dr. Daniel Poe Schreber (Kiefer Sutherland) is on the other end, someone who knows about John. Apparently "they" are coming to get John, so there's not a moment to lose. As he hurls himself through the cheap doorway, John spots visitors in the lift. Folk like Mr. Hand (Richard O'Brien) and Mr. Book (Ian Richardson) are quite distinctive. These Strangers are not alone in their pursuit. John's wife Emma (Jennifer Connelly) has reported him missing, setting Inspector Frank Bumstead (William Hurt) on the trail.
Written and directed by Alex Proyas, Dark City exposes clear parallels with his debut, The Crow. Both rely on striking, mind-buggering images crossed with a contorted, complex storyline. Both feature a central hero, one who can wield unusual power in his battle against antithetical forces. Yet Dark City is quite unlike most other productions, even those being made beyond the Disneyland-safe confines of Hollywood. It couples a satisfying jaunt through the shaky foundations of human individualism to a solution of miscible genres; psychological vampire horror steeped in '40s noir. The twist that Proyas employs to tie everything together derives, surprisingly, from the world of science fiction. In retrospect the cross-pollination is obvious, merely reinforcing the strength of Proyas' central idea.
Absolutely, fundamentally critical to Dark City are its visuals. This is the pipeline through which emotion, revelation, dramatic shift and conclusion get funnelled. Such is the volume of this film-to-audience flow that it cannot be regarded as the work of Proyas alone; instead a number of talents are here synthesised. Dariusz Wolski contributes a soaring and diving camera action, a swirling style that leads to a roller-coaster rush. In this movement he is supported by George Liddle and Patrick Tatopoulos' frankly stunning production design. They achieve an incredible level of detail, even putting effort into the corner's where no one ever looks; Wolski only sweeps across much of the urban landscape but even here there is richness, a sense of physical totality. This is a city of memory fragments, a mosaic drawn from the generations, and it looks just great.
The downside is that Proyas' tale lacks narrative focus, leading to an unstoppable fragmentation during the final reels. It seems that the story cannot sustain a reasonable ending, at least in this incarnation. Curiously, this doesn't make Dark City particularly confusing or nudge it across the boredom threshold. Instead it hovers just out of reach, tantalising with hints. The credit for this must be evenly split between Proyas and his cast.
The former ensures that Dark City leads the audience securely through a dizzying opening, taking all into a strange world. The actors then reinforce this upsetting atmosphere by playing all confused themselves. Sewell makes us share in John's bewilderment and fear with a more than adequate performance. The only problem comes when he harnesses his new-found abilities, displaying a less then believable confidence. In consequence Hurt is perhaps the more involving character, simply because he's the more able performer. Throughout Dark City he's uncomfortable, niggled by the feeling that something's wrong without being able to scratch the itch. Richardson and O'Brien also turn in notable performances, both approaching the pinnacle of Nosferatu.
In the end, what makes Dark City stand out is its intelligent questioning of the tenuous bond between identity and the corporeal body that holds it. Since our remembrances define who we are, what do we become when they cannot be trusted? When you tamper with the soul, you're dealing a blow to the seat of humanity. Proyas leaves much unexplained during the voyage, a very Jeunet and Caro trip, but that works in the movie's favour. To get the most out of the experience you must concentrate, gleaning and interpreting. If that's not enough then you can wallow in the swell of references, everything from Brazil to A Clockwork Orange. In short this is a plush film, a diorama of individual fictions within the greater fiction.
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