Hollywood has often been criticized for taking rich and complex novels, legends and myths and dumbing down them into what are sometimes disparagingly referred to as "comic books." At the same time, I've watched in horror as Hollywood has taken some perfectly marvelous comic books and one right after another dumbed them down into something that must occupy an even deeper level of the aesthetic abyss. Certainly Demi Moore's failed redux -- make that "rewrite" -- of Nathaniel Hawthorne's The Scarlet Letter belongs to those particular depths.

But how are we to judge a film which is based on something as ephemeral as a comic book?

First of all, one would hope the prospective film critic in this case will start from a perspective that recognizes that comics have come a long way from cheap paper and smudgy printing and even longer from the simple good guy/bad guy plots that once dominated the superhero genre. Comics today regularly offer up much more complex storylines over the course of an entire year rather than the unrelated issue-by-issue tales many of us may remember from the comic reading days of our youth. The rise in popularity of the graphic novel and development of independent publishing has helped to turn the comic medium into something resembling a grown-up art form.

And the freedom and even a certain respectability that comic artists now enjoy has changed the character of that all American comic book staple: the superhero.

Those who may have not been keeping up with this evolution may be surprised to learn that the squeaky clean but largely angst-free movie superheros of the past, including Superman and Dick Tracy, have long been superseded by a new breed, the super-anti-hero -- an individual whose motives are either in question or in a severe state of flux. Almost all the comic heroes that make it to the big screen have in common this metaphysical muddying-of-the-waters: Judge Dread with his fascist tendencies, the Mask's sexual repression, the new incarnation of Batman (a/k/a "The Dark Knight"), who, like the Crow, is manically driven to revenge against the criminals of the world.

The success of this new breed of films made from the dark hero comic books probably took the edge off anyone's surprise when a cinematic version of Spawn was announced. Being the most popular comic in the world with nearly 100,000,000 titles sold in five years also helped Spawn reach the big screen. A little more surprising perhaps was the word that Spawn creator Todd McFarlane would maintain creative control over the entire project. Never before had a comic creator been given the opportunity to oversee the film career of his creation.

Because of this unique circumstance, the film Spawn follows its comic book source more closely than most superhero adaptations. CIA operative Al Simmons discovers that his supposedly all-military covert operations are actually resulting in the deaths of civilians. He angrily confronts his boss, Jason Wynn, head of the CIA, and informs him that he wants out. What happens next is not much of an innovation in action-intrigue films of similar kidney. Wynn promises to let Simmons go after "one more job" and (WARNING SPOILER -- NOT) Simmons is set up and killed.

There is a bit of a twist. The head of the CIA is in league with demons (so tell us something we didn't know). Maleboglia (ruler of hell-Satan-wink-wink) wants to kick start Armegeddon with the help of Wynn -- who has promised to deliver a plague of Biblical proportions using a newly developed biological weapon. His Miltonic Majesty requests Simmons -- one of Earth's most successful assassins -- to lead his armies. After Wynn murders Simmons, the latter is sent to Hell where Maleboglia offers him the bargain that drives the central conflict of the film: Simmons will get his wife (and life) back, goes the agreement, if he leads Hell's armies in battle against Heaven.

Simmons, who'd been a devout family man in his former life, is now eaten up with his desire for revenge. Eager for any opportunity that will get him his old life back and give him the chance to pay back Wynn, he readily agrees. He's then endowed with the powers of a "Hellspawn," one of Maleboglia's soldiers. As "Spawn" he wears a suit of living armor that responds to his every whim, which usually involves creating elaborate defenses for himself. But before the big campaign begins, Spawn must show himself worthy of such a dubious honor: he must revenge his own killing by murdering his murderer, Jason Wynn. The viewer understands that this decision to kill Wynn is entirely up to Simmons. He may be a Spawn of Satan, but he still has the power of moral choice.

Weaving their way into this web of intrigue are "Clown" and "Cogliostro" -- two characters representing the classic Good and Bad angels on the shoulder. Clown is a profane agent sent by Maleboglia to ensure that Spawn keeps his end of the bargain. This bad angel spurs Spawn in his hatred and vengefulness. At the same time, though, Clown undermines Spawn's self-confidence by telling him he's nothing, he owes all he is to Maleboglia, he's just a pawn, etc. This portrayal of manipulation is the most impressive aspect of the film.. It's truly chilling to watch Clown draw out the worst in everyone and how they -- even as they insist they are better than him -- DO JUST WHAT HE SAYS.

Cagliostro, on the other hand, was once a hellspawn himself. Somehow, he successfully regained his human form and became a soldier in God's army. His job is to help Spawn see past his short-term desire and find the same redemption. Spawn stumbles upon Cogliostro's home, a filthy alley where many of the city's homeless live. There Cogliostro tells him, "All are welcome here. This is a holy place." Though the alley seems, on the surface, a fitting place for the burned and disfigured thing Al Simmons has become, Cogliostro's remark offers him a glimpse into a new world.

Cogliostro encourages Spawn to put away his weapons, telling him that he will never defeat his enemy with them. He also tries to reveal to Spawn the depths of Maleboglia's manipulation. It isn't until later, however, after Spawn has battled and lost to "The Violator" -- a giant demonic manifestation of Clown -- that he listens. It is from Cagliostro that Spawn learns his suit of living armor is actually his to command. And that it will provide him the only weapons he needs -- as long as he is willing to undergo Cogliostro's training and the development of self-control.

And there follows a truly spectacular special effects extravaganza. But let's not spoil it by talking too much about it. Suffice to say that Spawn does live to fight another day. In the film's final shot, Spawn peers moodily through the night, clinging to a cross atop the old church bordering Cogliostro's alley.

In any other superhero film, this shot of the hero atop the tall building would represent the character's dominance over the landscape. Cape whipping around in the wind, the hero looks down upon it all like a king does his kingdom, robed in moonlight, master of all he surveys. In Spawn, however, we are offered a very different final impression. The hero clinging to a church -- victorious over evil, but an evil that included battles both without and within. The temptation to bask in his hard-fought victory is tempered by his knowledge that other battles, perhaps harder battles, are certainly ahead. There will be other opportunities to choose between
good and evil.