Sin City, the comic series by Frank Miller is not only the subject of a new Hollywood film adaptation, directed by Robert Rodriguez (El Mariachi, Desperado, From Dusk till dawn, and Spy Kids), but also the subject for academic debate on various campuses. It is, it would seem, a pioneering work in the field of graphic novels, and as such required reading for courses that examine this very modern form of literature.

One has to wonder: why? The only depth or complexity on show, at least in this film version (which remains faithful to the texts – Miller co-directs), is in the visual presentation of characters. Strange prosthetics aside (Mickey Rourke is unrecognizable due to a bulbous add-on chin), the characters and plots on display here make Denis the Menace seem positively Shakespearean.

That’s not to say that this isn’t a stunning movie – far from it. Rodriguez and Miller have created a dark, brooding noir world that is seductive to watch (“Full of sound and fury, signifying nothing”, quips Denis the Menace from stage left). Shot in a blue tinted black and white, with occasional stunning glimpses of red (the copious bloodshed gives plenty of scope for its use), yellow and a stark steroid-enhanced white.

The film interweaves a number of different Sin City episodes, primarilySin City, The Big Fat Kill, and That Yellow Bastard. We have three main heroes/protagonists, in the form of Hartigan [Willis], Marv [the aformentioned augmented Rourke], and Dwight [Owen], all grizzled outcasts ready to die to defend various ‘dames’ (who are, needless to say, dames almost without exception, possessing blonde hair and ‘perfect breasts’).

There are other classic noir elements, for example a sense of sinister manipulation, of unseen powers moving behind the scenes – Politicians, Priests and bent Cops. This, though, is a hybrid genre, mixing comic book action with noir. The collision between genres is both what makes the film vaguely worth watching, and its downfall. As John Patterson points out in his review, noir is often implicit, not least of all when it comes to violence. Classic noir carries an air of mystery, conspiracy, and impending doom. The pressures of Miller’s new genre insist that any fleeting sense of mystery is replaced by action, and plenty of it After all, one can’t graphically disembowel a shadowy presence working behind the scenes. The result? Drama is replaced by action, suspense by shock tactics, narrative by endless fight sequences.

The poverty of ideas on display is best held up by the crude interweaving of the individual stories. Once this was an original and inspired form, and when used by real storytellers (Tarantino and Jarmusch spring to mind) it can add all sorts of layers to a story. In Sin City it feels like a tack on, a necessary addition to justify placing such flimsy plots together. Characters float in between the stories without adding any new perspectives, rather they just shout ‘look at me – I’m from the other story – isn’t this clever’.

There will inevitably be much debate concerning the violence in the film. Miller, defending the violence in both his comic series and the film adaptation commented: “Considering most drama since The Iliad and before is extremely violent – because that’s how people work problems out – it’s a bit ridiculous. I don’t believe in the ‘monkey see, monkey do’ theory of entertainment”. That anyone would mimic the über-violence on display in this film is as unlikely as hordes of lycra-clad copy-cats plunging to their deaths from tall buildings having seen Superman. It is, to state the obvious, comic book violence. Bodies fly across the screen launched in unfeasible trajectories by the heroes of the story, who simulataneously are repeatedly riddled with bullets.

For this reviewer the violence of the film isn’t the problem, however gratuitous it may be. The sexism of the film isn’t the problem, however offensive it may be. For this reviewer the real offense lies in the fact that the authors of the film beguile you into thinking that this is some new form, some ground-breaking territory. The fact is that for all its visual style, as a story it’s dull and uninspired.