"From Hell" proves that no matter how much money you throw at a crappy script and amateur direction, you don't get a good movie.
See, it isn't just enough to pick one of the most sensationally gory police blotter stories of the past century, throw buckets of money at costumers & set folks, and pick two or three good actors. You have to motivate them to act with good writing. Or *something*.
The story is such old hat that it needed a really good angle. Implicating the royal family isn't new. The Whitechapel wannabes wandering the very well-scrubbed sets are all well-scrubbed and their clothing is meticulously clean. AS IF! Late 19th century London was DIRTY, PEOPLE! How is it all of these whores, too poor to have a place to live, are running around in NEW clothes that look like they just got out of the dry cleaners? (Read that last line like Sam Kinnison would have, screaming "just got out...")
There are a few shots of squeamish gore. After all, that's what we paid to see, right? ICHOR! ICHOR! But the reactions of the police actors and public onlookers? I'd expect better reactions from actors in a high school play. They look more like they stepped in dogcrap. (Hmmm.)
Inspector Depp spends much of his screen-time doing free advertising for absinthe. What, he's sorry he didn't do "Total Eclipse"?
Robbie Coltrane's character (amiable Coltrane has the only lively part in the movie) can't decide if the inspector is his buddy ("Goodnight sweet prince", he says at the end of the movie ... ECCCH! Shakespeare!) or his boss (when Depp snaps an order at him, he gets all ... *obedient*).
I know, I know, this whole movie is supposed to be tongue-in-cheek.
Right?
See, it isn't just enough to pick one of the most sensationally gory police blotter stories of the past century, throw buckets of money at costumers & set folks, and pick two or three good actors. You have to motivate them to act with good writing. Or *something*.
The story is such old hat that it needed a really good angle. Implicating the royal family isn't new. The Whitechapel wannabes wandering the very well-scrubbed sets are all well-scrubbed and their clothing is meticulously clean. AS IF! Late 19th century London was DIRTY, PEOPLE! How is it all of these whores, too poor to have a place to live, are running around in NEW clothes that look like they just got out of the dry cleaners? (Read that last line like Sam Kinnison would have, screaming "just got out...")
There are a few shots of squeamish gore. After all, that's what we paid to see, right? ICHOR! ICHOR! But the reactions of the police actors and public onlookers? I'd expect better reactions from actors in a high school play. They look more like they stepped in dogcrap. (Hmmm.)
Inspector Depp spends much of his screen-time doing free advertising for absinthe. What, he's sorry he didn't do "Total Eclipse"?
Robbie Coltrane's character (amiable Coltrane has the only lively part in the movie) can't decide if the inspector is his buddy ("Goodnight sweet prince", he says at the end of the movie ... ECCCH! Shakespeare!) or his boss (when Depp snaps an order at him, he gets all ... *obedient*).
I know, I know, this whole movie is supposed to be tongue-in-cheek.
Right?