S. Darko: A Donnie Darko Tale

Brian Orndorf started his review by crediting, “2001’s “Donnie Darko” was a bona fide movie-making miracle. An exceptional motion picture that smoothly communicated surreal imagery and brain-melting concepts of time travel, black holes, and personal demons, the apocalyptic “Donnie” suffered through an ill-timed release date (ushered into a handful of theaters soon after 9/11) and dreadful marketing (or the lack thereof), left to die like so many similar low-budget mindbenders. With the release of the DVD, “Donnie” became a titan, allowing the disaffected and the curious a chance to sit down and intimately dissect writer/director Richard Kelly’s labyrinthine cult smash.” “Donnie Darko” was elegant, invitingly shadowy, and confident all around. The last thing it needed was a weak Direct-to-Video sequel to ruin its heritage.

Escaping the mournful neglect of her parents in Virginia, Samantha Darko (Daveigh Chase) runs away on a cross-country road trip to Los Angeles with friend Corey (Briana Evigan) to fulfill her dream of professional dancing. When they have car troubles, the two pull into Conejo Springs, a small town filled with a community of bigots (including Jessie Spano from “Saved by the Bell,” Elizabeth Berkley, Matthew Davis, and John Hawkes) and young outsiders (Ed Westwick and Jackson Rathbone). Forced to interact with the locals, Corey immediately takes to the alcohol pastimes of the town, while Samantha, still mourning over the strange death of her brother, Donnie, seven years earlier, finds herself attracted to the difficulty of Iraq Jack, played by James Lafferty, a hurt Gulf War I vet who has learned through visions in her nightmares that the world will end on July 4, 1995.

Orndorf said, “There’s a fiery built-in animosity toward “S. Darko” that makes perfect sense to me. There are a million needless sequels out there acting as DVD tombstones in the video store graveyards, but the complex “Donnie Darko” is hardly an ideal candidate to build a franchise upon. Surely it’s no surprise to read that “S. Darko” is an egregiously rancid film on its own, and a complete travesty as an improbable second chapter of the “Darko” saga. It’s a spineless, careless, bizarrely unadventurous number two that would rather saddle up and rehash Kelly’s original screenplay over any clear-cut attempt to cook up some juicy oddities of its own. In essence, it’s “Donnie Darko” all over again, only instead of Jake Gyllenhaal’s pleasing performance of doe-eyed psychosis we’re stuck with Chase, who barely remains awake during her line readings.”

Orndorf continued, “Director Chris Fisher and screenwriter Nathan Atkins (who deserves nothing less than a spanking for his facepalm-inducing dialogue) are obviously under orders to reheat “Darko” iconography for another round of tangent universe tomfoolery as Corey and Samantha play a lukewarm game of dead/not dead with fate. With the reappearance of Frank the Bunny (a metallic mask employed here as Iraq Jack’s method of self-flagellation), more usage of the glowing tentacles that guide dreamers to their destiny, maneuvers with multiple Living Receiver perspectives, and a ticking clock in the form of an approaching Independence Day meteor shower, “S. Darko” is going to look and sound awfully familiar to die-hard fans who’ve studied “Donnie” with grad school precision. Fisher isn’t here to rock the boat with fresh ideas, making the sequel frustratingly timid with its unmotivated weirdness, believing familiarity will be the Wonka golden ticket to assured mass acceptance, not dramatic innovation.”

Orndorf went on, “While Chase acts as the only bridge between the two pictures (good to see Samantha still harbors feisty Sparkle Motion dreams), the character is given little impetus for her hallucinations, which only emerge because of her tainted Darko blood. She’s merely a conduit for Fisher to stage his take on unrelenting “Darko” bleakness and formidable angst, crusted with a few ‘90’s pop tunes and a young cast who act dumbfounded when requested to deliver any facial gesture than isn’t a pout (Westwick is especially vacant as the smoldering, cigarette-pack-rolled-up-in-sleeve small town Romeo). There’s no scintillating drive of otherworldly measure pinning Samantha down in the feature, she’s just a drab, disconnected pawn in a cluttered screenplay that’s eager to introduce puzzling subplots and metaphysical edges, but refuses to pay anything off, just to keep up with the first film’s elusiveness.”

Orndorf went on, “The difference between this feature’s ambiguity and Kelly’s back pocket mysteries is simple to explain: Kelly is talented. He invented his extravagant world of destiny and domestic concern and knew innately how to organize and a shoot it.” “S. Darko: A Donnie Darko Tale,” released in 2009, was made from money-loving producers who maybe never really understood what Kelly was doing, but they own the rights to the first film, hoping to distantly profit from an underdog cinematic event that could never be copied.

As you may have guessed, this sequel should never be seen. If you loved the first film, don’t see this one. You will regret ever watching it, especially with the way they screw around in the film. You will be constantly asking what they were thinking, and you’ll never know. Just avoid this one.

Next week, I will be looking at another remake, but one that is not so bad, in “Halloween Month 2025.”