THE SHADOW (1994)

 

PHENOMENALITY: *marvelous* 
MYTHICITY: *fair*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *adventure*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTION: *metaphysical, psychological*

Back in 1994 B.I. (Before Internet), I disliked THE SHADOW because I assumed screenwriter David Koepp had been overly influenced by Howard Chaykin's 1986 graphic novel BLOOD AND JUDGMENT. I assumed this simply because the Chaykin work was the first time the moldy-oldie pulp hero had made a tidy profit since the heyday of his magazine and radio show. Of course I knew that the major influence upon the Shadow's revival was the mega-success of the 1989 BATMAN, though in fairness, raconteurs like Sam Raimi attempted to adapt the pulp avenger a few years prior to the Burton film. Still, Koepp was hired to produce a new script in 1990, so Burton's achievement probably did light a fire under the Universal rights-holders.

If Koepp read the Chaykin comic, the only influence would have been indirect. Chaykin took the violent but righteous crusader and made him into a 1980s dickhead. Koepp first shows the hero as a 1930s dickhead but has him get somewhat more righteous over time, which is certainly an improvement. Thirty-something Caucasian-American Lamont Cranston (Alec Baldwin) somehow becomes a druglord in Tibet, but despite his many crimes, a spiritual teacher, Tulku, decides that Cranston can be rather forcefully redeemed into becoming a champion of justice back in his own country. Koepp's script conveniently vaults past the difficult process of turning a hardened gangster into a fighter against evil-- hence, one who "knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men"-- and in no time, Cranston is back in the States, posing as a worthless playboy while battling crime as The Shadow, armed with twin automatics and "the power to cloud men's minds." 

However, just as Cranston stuck his nose into Asia, an Asian villain follows the hero to New York and decides to challenge the Shadow on his own ground. Shiwan Khan (John Lone) was a later pupil of Tulku, so Khan has all of The Shadow's psychic powers, plus a small army of armored Asians who believe Khan the descendant of the Mongol conqueror Genghis. Khan has decided to conquer the US, albeit in a more devious manner than his ancestor, and he courteously invites Cranston, whose previous villainy Khan admired, to join Khan's new jeremiad. Naturally the hero refuses, so battle lines are drawn.

Though SHADOW never delivers the thrill-ride Koepp promises, he arguably improves on one element of the hero's mythology. I've had little direct experience with the support character Margo Lane, either in radio plays or in magazine stories, but she seems to vary between being either a nuisance or a hard-bitten professional. Koepp makes Margo (Penelope Ann Miller) a socialite who just happens to possess natural psychic gifts, and who eventually twigs to the fact that Lamont Cranston has a shadowy secret. She also gets involved with Khan's plot in that the evildoers seeks to suborn her father's scientific services.

Koepp's script is a little pokey at times, and Russell Mulcahy's direction is never more than adequate, so SHADOW didn't score with 1994 audiences. Miller's fun whenever she's on screen, and John Lone renders his unscrupulous Mongol warlord with such a light touch, it's hard to imagine any 1990s filmgoer being offended by the "Asian Invasion" trope. Baldwin looks decent in costume, but he never masters "the Shadow Laugh," and Koepp doesn't make Cranstone's dedication to the side of virtue compelling, leaving the actor little to work with. Tim Curry has a pleasant support-role, but Jerry Goldsmith's imitation of Danny Elfman is too bombastic by half. Still, many fans still like this iteration of the Master of Darkness, so that's no small achievement.