The opening titles to The Crow (2024), Rupert Sanders’ new adaptation of James O’Barr’s graphic novel, give the names of 35 producers – 30 of them executive – before a single creative is credited. It points to a project long in development, and one passed from one production team to another in a seemingly endless search for the right reimagining, or the perfect franchise refresh.

The first film adaptation, released in 1994 and directed by Alex Proyas, almost failed to reach the screen due to the death of star Brandon Lee during production and plans by its original distributor Paramount Pictures to shelve the incomplete cut. Thanks to to the efforts of Miramax in picking it up, some tight direction by Proyas, and a decade’s-best original soundtrack, it instead became a commercial hit and a cult favourite. One thing that it never was, of course, was sequel-friendly. The protagonist’s story ends conclusively, even if the actor had not died, and 1996’s The Crow: City of Angels attempted to tell a similar story with a new setting and a fresh lead character. Further sequels in 2000 and 2005 did the same, and pretty much with consistently diminishing returns. Proyas’ film is a genre landmark for its time. City of Angels is poorly written but beautifully lit. Salvation is watchable but mediocre. Wicked Prayer is hands-down awful filmmaking.

What strikes me most about this 2024 remake is, asides from keeping the basic iconography and character names, it does little different to any of the unnecessary sequels that preceded it. Someone is wrongly murdered, rises from the dead, and uses their newfound supernatural powers to take down the local crime kingpin responsible for the killings. Is it a remake of Proyas? Far from it. Despite the remake labelling, this is for all intents and purposes The Crow 5.

There are more than a few decent ideas floating around Sanders’ film, and enough of them are fresh enough to have some decent potential. There is also a neat enough visual aesthetic at play, reflecting its own time in much the same way Proyas captured a particular goth-rock vibe of the mid-1990s. The cast are decent enough, including Bill Skarsgård as Eric Draven, musican and singer FKA Twigs as his lover Shelley, and strong supporting players including Danny Huston, Laura Birn, Sami Bouajila, and Josette Simon.

It is all just rather underwhelming and unnecessary.

This strikes me as a fault of Rupert Sanders in general, whose other directorial efforts are Snow White and the Huntsman (2012) and Ghost in the Shell (2017). He has a good visual eye, and works with solid creative teams to present stimulating and attractive visual aesthetics. He simply seems to lack any strong skills in building story and narrative. It is a perennial issue with a lot of 21st century action filmmakers – Zack Snyder immediately comes to mind – who emphasise style over substance while still attempting to build complex storylines and mucking up the result.

There will be people that see The Crow and enjoy it, and there are certainly not wrong to do so. There are people that will claim it desecrates Brandon Lee’s memory, but given the other three films and the shirt-lived television drama I feel that ship sailed almost 30 years ago. They have been talking about a Crow remake since 2008, and more than anything this version feels like exactly what it is: a desperate attempt to get something, anything, onto the screen after 16 years of development hell.

This is ordinary filmmaking. We can watch it, but there certainly is not much there to bother talking about afterwards.