Ug. This thing. I’ve avoided it for so long. Damn it, John Cusack. You used to be cool. Luke Evans better sing randomly in this to make it worth it. Let’s get this over with.
For some reason I give more historical forgiveness to a film written in the 1970s then to a movie written just over a decade ago. Maybe it’s purely because we live in a time where academic research is easy to collect and there are so many movies that don’t even try. This murder mystery pretty much took it’s research from the same sources as that silent movie I watched in one of the earliest of these blogs. They really lean into a lot of old Poe theories, not into more modern biographies. The fake newspapers even use the words “serial killer”. No one could be bothered to even check when the phrase came into existence? Cause their about one hundred and 20 years too early. Then again, the production didn’t even bother to look up whether lead is magnetic so I digress.
Cusack plays Poe as a pretentious and loud drunkard, putting up violent fits in the local pub when denied brandy. He’s all hot air, but no Baltimore accent to make his rants seem semi-charming. Alice Eve is the love interest, a very made-up and very modern woman in looks and behavior who Poe is courting named Emily. Luke Evans plays a standard detective called Fields and yet is the saving grace of this movie.
The plot is the same as the first episode of Castle; a serial killer is dispatching his victims in ways inspired by Poe’s stories. Bodies up chimneys. Pendulums slicing men in half (real-life fellow writer Griswold dies way before his time this way in the movie). And the old standard - burying people alive. Fields wants Poe to assist him in tracking down the madman only to bring Poe’s girlfriend right into the killer’s path. Blah. Blah. Blah. Let’s talk about writing.
The killer insists the Poe the write the details of his crimes or he will not reveal what he’s done with Emily. Of course, this helps break a writer’s block Poe had been suffering. Isn’t that nice of the maniac? The killer proclaims himself a fellow artist and Poe responds , “You’re mad”. Oh come on, Poe. All modern writers know to clear our browser history out of fear of being arrested for what we research for a story. “We’re all mad here.”
Certain important aspects of being a writer of that century are included such as Poe reciting at ladies clubs and fighting with newspapers who underpay him. At one point Poe’s editor states that he criticizes all other writers. Cut to me, blinking at the screen and muttering, “But - But that was one of his jobs. People paid him to be a critic. I - I don’t understand.”
The Raven is pretty dismal! I want to see what Sylvester Stallone would have done with Robert Downey Jr. in the role as Poe, but I don’t think we’ll ever know. Oh, you didn’t know about that. Turns out Stallone is a Poephile who wrote his own biopic, but this movie got picked up by a studio instead. I’m not saying is would have been better than this . . . no, actually. That’s what I’m saying.
