Around a million years back (roughly 1980-85), when I was younger, I regularly bought a comic called 2000AD. And I really loved it. The main story in that publication—and still today—was Judge Dredd. The lead character's name is a play on the novelty UK ska/reggae artist Judge Dread, who himself borrowed the name from Prince Buster (though they share virtually nothing in common), was a law enforcement officer with the power to arrest, charge, try, and sentence criminals immediately, even issuing death sentences, operating in the early 22nd century within Mega City One, an overcrowded, dystopian urban area stretching from Boston to Washington DC. It's a dark and violent story that manages to find some humor in its extreme right-wing justice system, especially through our constantly helmeted anti-hero (unlike Harry Callaghan, who always opposed the system, Joe Dredd *is* the system). There were many memorable characters within 2000AD, but Dredd was my favorite—though Strontium Dog and Nemesis the Warlock came close—and seemed ripe for a movie adaptation. So, in 1994, Danny Cannon was slated to direct Judge Dredd—the next Sylvester Stallone film. It turned out to be quite disappointing, really bad from beginning to end. It appeared Cannon was simply working at Stallone’s direction, and despite the impressive visuals (credit the art department for that), Stallone seemed determined to discard any existing story elements he didn't like; Dredd never removes his helmet, which symbolizes the faceless nature of the law, but Stallone does. Judges don't have personal relationships, yet Dredd develops one with Judge Hershey. A recurring villain, Fergee, is reduced to comic relief, major enemies like The Angel Gang are relegated to brief appearances, and a robot resembling Hammerstein from The A.B.C. Warriors appears without explanation. That seemed to be the end of it. It was an unfortunate situation. Until now. After nearly two decades of blockbuster superhero comics dominating theaters, much of the negative feeling surrounding Stallone’s version has faded, and here's a reboot: Dredd, starring Karl Urban (The Bourne Supremacy, Doom) and directed by Pete Travis (Vantage Point, Endgame), with a budget roughly half that of its predecessor (even less when adjusted for inflation). What’s it like? If you know the original comic, you’ll need to set aside your expectations about what Dredd and Mega City should look like. While neither version perfectly captures the aesthetic, the Stallone film looks more like the intended vision than this one does. It's difficult to imagine anyone truly nailing it without a massive budget. This is a gritty, bleak film reminiscent of the dark, impersonal places in the Death Wish movies. Still, what matters is that this movie embodies the 1980s dystopian future presented in Judge Dredd comics. It *feels* like Judge Dredd, something the Stallone version never achieved despite all its extra features. The plot is simple. Dredd accompanies and evaluates a rookie recruit named Anderson (Olivia Thirlby), who nearly failed the Judge training program but possesses a psychic ability to read minds, which the Justice Department wants to use if Dredd approves of her. They investigate a triple homicide in one of Mega City’s high-rises—buildings that can house 70,000 people, many of whom never leave—which is controlled by drug boss Ma-Ma (Lena Headey, 300). During an early arrest, Anderson uses her ability to identify the perpetrator as being responsible for the killings. They plan to take him in for questioning so they can get information on Ma-Ma’s operation, but she seizes control of the building's security and traps everyone inside, demanding cooperation or death. Dredd and Anderson can either wait for backup, attempt an escape, or go after Ma-Ma. Naturally, our hero chooses the latter. In many ways, this film could have been called "Anderson" because it’s her character—played perfectly by Olivia Thirlby—who undergoes a transformation throughout the movie. And that's fitting; Dredd doesn't change; he remains steadfast. Karl Urban, himself a fan of Judge Dredd, understands this and portrays him flawlessly (always keeping his helmet on, as he should). He’s like Robocop, but without any warmth. Lena Headey is the standout for me. I was hesitant about introducing a new antagonist, and the idea of a former prostitute turned drug lord felt contrived. But she's brilliant—truly vicious. The slow-motion sequences showing users experiencing time at a fraction of its normal speed thanks to Ma-Ma’s drug, Slo-Mo, are particularly effective. While the violence is somewhat cartoonish, it’s very graphic, more so than I’ve seen outside of horror films. It moves quickly and finishes in just under 90 minutes. As of now, Dredd hasn't earned back its theatrical revenue—a shame for a film with mostly positive reviews and strong word-of-mouth. However, it will likely become profitable on DVD and Blu-ray release, which might lead to a sequel or even the trilogy writer Alex Garland hopes to create. The thought of seeing the Dark Judges in Dredd III excites me as much as reading my first 2000AD comic did years ago.

Source on TMDB