Cast: Johnny Depp, Heather Graham, Ian Holm, Paul Rhys, Joanna Page, Katrin Cartlidge, Robbie Coltrane, Jason Flemyng, Susan Lynch, Ian McNeice, Ian Richardson
Directors: Albert and Allen Hughes
Producers: Jane Hamsher, Kevin J. Messick, Don Murphy
Screenplay: Terry Hayes and Rafael Yglesias, based on the comic book series by Alan Moore & Eddie Campbell
Cinematography: Peter Deming
Music: Trevor Jones
U.S. Distributor: 20th Century Fox
As the nights grow longer and colder and the leaves fall from trees in a flurry of multicolored splendor, 'tis the season for dark movies, and, in 2001, none resides deeper in the shadows than the Hughes Brothers' From Hell, a visually impressive motion picture that stuns the senses with its surreal depiction of late-19th century London and its orgy of uncensored violence. The problem with this film, as is often the case with cinematic excursions that concentrate so heavily on atmosphere, is that it has neither a heart nor a soul. The movie engages solely on the basis of its storyline and tantalizing visuals, not because we feel anything for any of the characters. But what a storyline and visuals they are - enough to draw us into the experience and leave us shaken once two hours have passed.
There is no more famous serial killer than Jack the Ripper. Since his infamous 1888 killing spree in London's Whitechapel district, there have been more sophisticated psychopaths, and those who have slaughtered far more victims, but Jack the Ripper remains at the top of the totem pole. His exploits are the stuff of legends. With From Hell, the brotherly team of Albert and Allen Hughes (Menace II Society) have not attempted to do much in the way of a factual exploration of the Ripper's spree. Instead, working from Alan Moore and Eddie Campbell's graphic novel of the same name, they have used a few facts as the foundation for an entirely fictional murder mystery/horror movie that has the opium-addicted Scotland Yard Inspector Abberline (Johnny Depp) tracking down the Ripper while falling in love with a potential victim, street whore Mary Kelly (Heather Graham). Also thrown into the mix are a syphilis-infected Prince of England, doctors eager to perform lobotomies, and the Order of Freemasons, members of which act with impunity. In keeping with the tone and nature of their source material, the Hughes Brothers have converted From Hell to the cinema with an edgy, blood-soaked, comic book-like flair.
From the Ripper's butchery to Abberline's opium trips, watching From Hell is certainly a grim experience, but it's not without its rewards for those who can stomach the level of graphic gore. Credit not only the Hughes Brothers, but cinematographer Peter Deming and composer Trevor Jones for crafting an atmosphere so dense and potent that it seeps from the screen into the theater. The movie is a macabre and intense experience whose pace and tone remain consistent throughout. The acting, especially that by Depp, Ian Holm (as a doctor who assists in the Inspector's investigation), and Robbie Coltrane (as Abberline's right-hand man), never fails to convince. Even Heather Graham, in a part one would not immediately connect with the normally two-dimensional actress, isn't all that bad. The plot isn't the stuff of literary greatness, but the mystery is effectively developed and it's not immediately evident how things will turn out and who will be unmasked as the Ripper. Yet, even as the story compels us to stay with the movie, the Hughes' style distances us from the characters - even the "good" ones. We watch from a detached perspective, and I can't help thinking that robs From Hell of some of its potential power. Then again, how deeply do we want to be involved in a movie about Jack the Ripper?
From Hell is a good deal better than Depp's last atmospheric horror story, Sleepy Hollow. This movie has more realized potential, including a storyline that goes somewhere. And, while we may never find ourselves truly liking Abberline, the Hughes Brothers' mastery of the screen is such that we can imagine ourselves winding our ways through the fog-enshrouded, cobbled streets of London with something lurking in the shadows just behind us...
© 2001 James Berardinelli