The Raven looks like a profoundly silly movie, but it continues the proud tradition of weird and wonderful cinematic things happening in Charm City:
Seriously, is there a small American city (ones other than New York, Chicago, Los Angeles or Boston) that’s been better or more eccentrically served by film and television? In between the collected projects of John Waters, Barry Levinson, David Simon, 12 Monkeys, Sleepless in Seattle, Alfred Hitchcock’s Marnie, and Silence of the Lambs to name only the major stuff, that is a lot of Baltimore in popular culture and in good popular culture. I don’t know if it’s a self-perpetuating cycle, Poe’s horrific giving rise to Hannibal Lecter, Simon and Walters plumbing endlessly referential wells, or what. But there’s something nice about the fact that there’s a constantly refreshing Baltimore of the mind even if some of the entries are inevitably cheesy and ignoble.
And as a side note, wouldn’t it be awesome if there was a movie that pitted the two Edgar Allan Poes, the poet and the Maryland attorney general, against each other? If you’re going to do crazy supernatural junk, you might as well go all the way.