The Sin City graphic novels may be badly drawn, revolve around internal monologue, and require a comprehensive guidebook to Depression-era slang to decypher, but they've got those two things that Hollywood likes most: gratuitous sex and violence. Breasts? Plenty! Blood and guts? By the gallons! Strong female characters? Hell no! Incessant, gravel-voiced narration? Well sure, but why are you even still reading this when we said "breasts" thirty-four words ago?
If you like blood, leather, superpowered handguns, and marginalizing women, then you can't help but enjoy this film. (You might also be Mike Tyson, for which you have our condolences). J.D. Martell and Peter Hildebrand liked it so much that they made it the subject of the very first of Everybody's Favorite iRiffs, and they're pretty damn pleased with the result.