I also want to mention Djimon Hounsou, who plays the magicest Magic Negro I’ve ever seen. The Magic Negro (a term, or some variation of it, popularized by Spike Lee), in case you didn’t know, is the static black supporting character who imparts sage-like wisdom to the dynamic white hero. Think Michael Duncan Clarke in “The Green Mile,” Will Smith in “The Legend of Bagger Vance,” or Djimon Hounsou again in “In America.” Stephen King often employs them as the local color—no pun intended—who drop hints to the white heroes about what the ancient evil has been up to. This time around, Hounsou plays a neutral force in the universe, who has powers of some sort, and imparts sage-like, if elliptical, advice for Constantine to brood over for minutes on end. “Constantine’s” Magic Negro out magics all the rest by being named Midnight. Yeah, I didn’t think they could get away with that either.
Needless to say, “Constantine” doesn’t really work as an action movie, having lost so much forward momentum so early. And when Constantine finally does throw down with the bad guys, he basically walks into a room full of them and starts shooting with his crucifix Tommy Gun. Speaking of the crucifix Tommy Gun—that should be funny, right? It is kind of funny, but “Constantine” doesn’t want it to be. The movie chugs along with such a self-important lack of irony that stuff that would make us laugh in “Blade” or “Hellboy” are wasted. Exceptions include Keanu’s use of a cat and a bowl of water to pay Hades a visit, and when he finds himself standing triumphant over a pile of squished devil bugs in the middle of the street. Those are good laughs. But there are too many places where we should have been smirking if only director Francis Lawrence had lightened up a bit. I say rent “Wings of Desire” instead. Or “Hellboy.”
Finished Sunday, March 13th, 2005
Copyright © 2005 Friday & Saturday Night
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