Sin City - the same old story?

In a wonderful review that is a model of clear-eyed discernment, which will no doubt expose him to ridicule, Anthony Lane takes Sin Cityto task for being yet one more bastard descendant of Scorsese and Tarantino, a film that "know[s] everything about violence and nothing about suffering." His style more than ever a cautious mix of camp and moral clarity, Lane delivers a message to comic book enthusiasts who unwittingly fetishize violence in ever-more-stunning tableaux:

A short course in movie history would teach them that graphic novels themselves are soaked to the bone in a style that was brought to refinement by film noir. It might even lead them to a basic triple bill of “The Big Heat,” “Out of the Past,” and “Sweet Smell of Success.” There they would learn that the duel of shadow and glitter did not start life on a computer screen, that not all women are prostitutes with weapons strapped to their thighs, and that the drive to avenge—which is what fuels “Sin City,” to the point of perversion—can bring more pain than satisfaction in its wake.

Gee. I hope Alex doesn't get upset.