<< Back 6/5/02 Flicks By Hunter Pope From Hell Directors: Albert Hughes and Allen Hughes (The Dead Presidents and Menace to Society) Cast: Johnny Depp, Heather Graham, Robbie Coltrane, Ian Holm Rating: R — strong violence/gore, sexuality, language and drug content Based on the graphic novel by Alan Moore and Eddie Campbell. Who knew that our world’s most famous serial killer was also a soothsayer. Jack the Ripper gave us fear; a reason to quadruple lock our doors and distrust any wayward shadow. He also gave us fascination, a sick wonderment into why a human would disembowel another. Serial killers may be frightening, but they were also marketable. Ted Bundy’s life sold many a book, as well as a marathon series. Spike Lee investigated the Son Of Sam, and Oliver Stone picked on our gory fascination with the ultra (cool) violent, “Natural Born Killers.” And good old Jack started it all. Here was a killer who was also highly intelligent. He (or she or other) taunted the police, cut his victims with such precision that education in anatomy was an obvious conclusion, and, most of all was never caught. Jack made evil cool. The world was frightened, but anytime a new murder happened in the White Chapel district, droves would congregate like hungry crows on the evisceration site. And we still congregate. If you happen to go to London, there are numerous tour agencies that will take you through each murder site. Books in the thousands try to solve the murder, and movies (good, bad and abysmal) try to dredge our fears up in new and brutal ways. Perhaps the most interesting book on Jack the Ripper is a 500 page graphic novel by Alan Moore and Eddie Campbell entitled “From Hell.” It took over a decade to create, and it was so meticulously researched that there are over 40 pages of footnotes in minute print. It’s almost like a grad school dissertation trapped in a comic book. Even more interesting is the duo that decided to transform this comic nightmare into a full-length film. Albert and Allen Hughes are best known for their “ghetto classics” such as “Menace to Society” and “The Dead Presidents,” each film depicting the interchangeable relationship between poverty and crime. It seems strange for brothers versed in this category (as well as being natives of Detroit) to take on a movie about the mangling of white prostitutes in London in the 19th century. But that makes it all the more appealing. The directors’ philosophy is, “Wherever you go, there you are ... in the ‘hood,” and it’s also quite true for merry old England. The Hughes Brothers not only peer into Jack’s putrid soul, but they also look at London’s underworld. Our heroines are prostitutes, women who have sex standing up in shadow-filtered alleys and then sleep upwards on frost riddled benches. The head of the crime unit is an inherent racist and bigot. He can’t fathom that an upper class or educated person may be responsible for the murders. He believes it to be lower class, or worse yet, a Jew. Even our hero, Inspector Frederick Abberline (Johnny Depp), is a tattered soul. Abberline’s hobby is to smoke opium fueled by liberal quantities of absinthe and laudanum. These opium dreams give him insight into the killer and the victims. Abberline is in a regal line of detectives, who also used the pipe for inspiration, especially the elementary Sherlock Holmes. Abberline even has the Watson counterpart in Peter Godley (Robbie Coltrane), a policeman who hauls Abberline out of opium dens while at the same time praising him for his psychic insight. The movie is one big comic book and the Hughes brothers throw vivid colors into a city (with on site Prague doubling as London) that looks bathed in the glow of Hell. They also aren’t stingy with the gore. Jack was careful as a surgeon with his organ plucking, and the Hughes’s cover each killing like cameramen for the Learning Channel. However, it’s not gratuitous gore. It’s stylish, an almost genteel look at something stomach turning. It’s what would happen if the Merchant-Ivory team decided to do an ode to the “Halloween” series. It also shows the societal atmosphere of London during the nineteenth century. The Free Masons are examined, as well as a new science that many scientists were reluctantly clinging to—brain lobotomy. One of Abberline’s confidants, (Ian Holm), is the royal family’s physician who becomes intrigued by the Ripper case (as well as the only level headed one). The Doctor is a fan of lobotomies and his fascination plays a key part in the end. It also looks at the helplessness of prostitutes during this period. Respect was sorely absent, and the Hughes Brothers do a good job of showing how horrific the prostitute’s surroundings were (as well as proving why it was so difficult to solve a murder because the victims were at the bottom rung of society). The leader of these doomed madams is Mary Kelly (Heather Graham as the best looking strumpet ever), a redheaded lass who becomes the love interest of Abberline. “From Hell” is essentially a murder mystery basked in the pastels of comic brushstrokes. The suspects grow as the movie unfolds, and we are treated to numerous conspiracies (some based on real life hypotheses, including a cover-up by the royal family as well as the Free Masons). At the same time, “From Hell” is not designed to scare the pants (or knickers) off the viewer. This may come as a disappointment to those expecting a glimpse into Hades, but it should not deter from the fascinating account of the evil that seems to penetrate every facet of London society, especially the upper class. Jack is merely a freakish sideshow for the ghastly underbelly that the Hughes Brothers examine. Not everyone will be pleased by “From Hell”. It still has some squirmy qualities, and the morbid features and morose dialogue never lighten up. However, Johnny Depp does his droopy-eyed best, and Ian Holm adds buoyancy to yet another haunted character. For visuals alone, “From Hell” will draw fans, and perhaps even compel some of us to explore the mammoth graphic novel. The Hughes Brothers should be lauded for attempting something new, even if it’s a subject about something very old. Nevertheless, Jack is still setting the precedent for our invisible fears. Perhaps if we ever learn the real identity, the enigma that enshrouds serial killers will dissipate. But maybe it’s better that none of us ever know. Being scared has been chic for over a hundred years. Let’s not ruin an awful thing with the truth. (Hunter Pope writes about entertainment for The Smoky Mountain News. He can be reached at w.h.pope@worldnet.att.net)