The Crow (1994)

“It Can’t Rain All the Time” ☔🖤🕊️


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Let’s Start by Showing Y’all the Trailers, Shall We? 🎬

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A Cursed Classic 💀👻

Before even diving into the movie itself, it’s impossible not to talk about the shadow that hangs over The Crow. This wasn’t just a film adaptation of James O’Barr’s indie comic — it became a production haunted by tragedy. O’Barr created the comic in the late ‘80s as a way to cope with the grief of losing his fiancée to a drunk driver. It was raw, violent, and cathartic — but it was never meant to be glamorous. When Hollywood adapted it, O’Barr hoped the story could carry its pain to a bigger audience.

But then came the tragedy: Brandon Lee, son of Bruce Lee and star of the film, was accidentally killed during filming due to a mishandled prop gun. He died at just 28 years old. His death transformed The Crow from a movie into a requiem. O’Barr, already burdened with grief, was devastated. He described the money he earned from the film as “blood money” and refused to keep it, instead giving it to Lee’s fiancée, Linda. He hoped it would help her heal, but even that act felt macabre: how could someone find peace in money tied to the death of their partner? O’Barr himself distanced from the comic entirely, saying he never wanted anything to do with it again.

Because of all this, The Crow developed the reputation of being a cursed production. On-set accidents, eerie coincidences, and the fact that it’s a movie about a dead man returning to life for vengeance all layered together into something uncanny. Even now, three decades later, it’s remembered as much for the tragedy as for its artistry.


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Non-Spoiler Plot Overview 🦅🌃

The Crow tells the story of Eric Draven (Brandon Lee), a musician murdered alongside his fiancée Shelly. On the anniversary of their deaths, Eric rises from the grave, guided by a mystical crow, with supernatural powers that let him heal, endure pain, and channel vengeance. One by one, he hunts the gang responsible, while still carrying the weight of his lost humanity.


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Character Rundown 🎭

Eric Draven (Brandon Lee): A tragic anti-hero balancing grief with cold fury. His tenderness with Shelly’s memory collides with his rage against the gang.

Sarah (Rochelle Davis): A young girl who serves as Eric’s tether to the living world, showing him compassion isn’t lost.

Sergeant Albrecht (Ernie Hudson): The sympathetic cop who knows Eric is more ghost than man, yet helps him regardless.

Top Dollar (Michael Wincott): The crime boss who embodies the city’s rot, chewing through every scene with menace.

Shelly (Sofia Shinas): Eric’s fiancée, the emotional heart of the story — though mostly in flashbacks, her presence motivates every act of vengeance.



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Pacing / Episode Flow ⏱️🌧️

The movie flows like a gothic comic book come alive. It’s slow when it needs to be, letting rain-soaked alleys and Eric’s grief breathe, then snapping into brutal bursts of violence. The whole film plays like a nightmare stitched with music-video surrealism. For some, that uneven rhythm feels jarring; for others, it’s hypnotic.


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Pros ✅

Brandon Lee’s performance: fragile, poetic, and terrifying when it needs to be.

The aesthetic: rain, neon, industrial skylines — pure gothic atmosphere.

The soundtrack, dripping with ‘90s angst, feels tailor-made for Eric’s resurrection.

Its sincerity: at its heart, this is a story about love transcending death.



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Cons ❌

Some villains feel like exaggerated cartoons.

A few lines veer into melodrama.

The real-world tragedy overshadows the art — it’s hard to separate the movie from Lee’s death.



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Final Thoughts 🖤

The Crow is macabre and beautiful in equal measure. It’s remembered not only as a cult classic but also as a cinematic ghost story — both on and off screen. While not a personal 10/10, it remains a defining piece of gothic cinema, forever stamped by tragedy, grief, and resilience.


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Rating ⭐

8/10


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Spoiler Warning ⚠️🕯️

From here on out, full spoilers ahead.


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Spoilers 🩸

Eric’s resurrection is pure gothic poetry. Crawling from the grave, face painted in haunting white and black, he becomes both angel of death and broken lover. Each of his kills is staged like a twisted ritual: burning a crow symbol into the ground, delivering eerie one-liners before his enemies fall. His supernatural resilience — bullets healing instantly, wounds closing — makes him more specter than man.

One of the film’s most chilling sequences is his quiet visit to Sarah and her neglectful mother. Eric doesn’t lash out at them, but gently reminds Sarah of what love and loyalty should look like. It’s these human touches that separate him from the villains and keep the film from drowning in bloodshed.

The finale atop the cathedral is operatic. Eric faces Top Dollar as rain lashes down, lightning illuminating their duel. When Eric finally kills him — whispering Shelly’s pain into Top Dollar’s mind before sending him to his death — it’s both catharsis and sorrow. There’s no joy in victory, only closure.

But every frame of the movie is haunted by the real-life tragedy of Brandon Lee. His final scenes, especially the closing shot of Eric reunited with Shelly in the afterlife, are almost unbearable to watch without remembering he never lived to see the film’s release. The audience isn’t just mourning Eric — they’re mourning Brandon.

This is also why James O’Barr wanted nothing more to do with The Crow after the film. He described his royalties as “blood money,” immediately giving them to Brandon Lee’s widow, Linda. He thought it would cleanse his conscience — but that act itself feels chilling. Imagine being offered money tied directly to your partner’s death. Would you feel relief? Or would it deepen the wound?

That moral weight, that curse-like shadow, became part of The Crow’s DNA. Fans can’t watch without thinking about it. And maybe that’s fitting — a story about grief, vengeance, and love that refuses to die should itself be remembered as both masterpiece and ghost story. 🌑🕊️