The image of a damned soul, clad in biker leathers, his skin flayed away and his skeleton streaming flames, defying the Devil and roaring down dusty highways on a hellfire motorcycle hits so many American archetypes of coolness that it's a wonder Marvel's Ghost Rider hasn't been turned into a movie before. Now, 35 years after the character's creation by editor Roy Thomas, writer Gary Friedrich, and artist Mike Ploog (depicted here in a photo taken last week, shaking hands with Amy while writer J.M. DeMatteis sits in the background), The Most Supernatural Superhero of All has torn his way into America's cinema houses. And the results are . . . mixed.
Writer/director Mark Steven Johnson's movie is at its best when it shamelessly plays off the mythic vibe of the character -- like the opening, set in the old west, all desolation and flatlands and heat lightning, while an electric guitar strikes blues chords on the soundtrack. And the scenes with Ghost Rider himself are simply splendid. Few comic adaptation movies (outside of Sam Raimi's Spider-Man films or Richard Donner's Superman film) have captured the over-the-top fire and beauty of comic-book mayhem like this film. When Ghost Rider burns his bike up the glossy side of a skyscraper, or smacks down fallen angel goons that have elemental powers, or hits his throttle and instantly bursts into flame, you know you're watching a particularly well-drawn comic come to life. And Sam Elliott (as a grizzled gravedigger with an eldritch past) and Peter Fonda (who played "Captain America" in EASY RIDER, and here plays Marvel's version of Satan) play their roles with just the right tone.
The rest of the movie is the problem. Nicholas Cage, as Johnny Blaze, with hair that looks like he borrowed it from GLADIATOR's Maximus, seems to have trouble figuring out how to play his brooding Evel Kneivel character whenever he isn't blazing. As for his love interest, I approve of the Marvel movies' trend of recasting white characters in the comics with actors from other races (here, the comic's extremely white Roxanne Simpson is played by Latina Eva Mendes); but alas, Ms. Mendes's perfomance falls flat. And while it's nice that the actress has a truly comic-book-like figure, did her reaction to every peril have to be showing off more cleavage?
Then there's the script. Apparently, Mr. Johnson's flair for recreating Ghost Rider's comic book visuals did not extend to snappy patter for the Spirit of Vengeance. When Ghost Rider initially faces off against his opponents, his first line -- uttered in a terrific, sepulchre growl that seems carved out of smoking brimstone -- is, "Yer goin' down!" Yeah, yeah, there's a double entendre there, since he's trying to send the blackguards back to the nether regions -- but come on.
Also [mild spoiler] the story has one of those plot tropes I could never understand: When the bad guy is demanding the magical Maguffin that will make him all-powerful, and the good guys have it in there grasp -- why do they always give it to him?! Yes, the hero always has some plan to defeat the souped-up baddie; but wouldn't it be easier to just defeat him before he becomes all-powerful?
Anyway, I doubt this film will win bouquets from critics; but it's essentially critic proof. It's a flaming skeleton on a motorcycle. Pyrotechnics look great on film. So do skeletons. So do motorcycles. Put 'em all together, and you should have a moneymaker.
The cover above is copyrighted by Marvel Enterprises (or whoever the parent company is now); and the still is from Columbia Pictures.
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