"The Crow" (1994) unfolds like a dark, rain-slicked fever dream, steeped in vengeance, sorrow, and the supernatural.
On the eve of Halloween—Devil’s Night—musician Eric Draven and his fiancée, Shelly, are brutally murdered in a savage home invasion. One year later, a mysterious black bird pierces the night sky and lands on Eric’s grave. The earth stirs. Something awakens. Eric rises—not fully alive, not truly dead—guided by the crow, a harbinger from the beyond.
Now a spectral avenger cloaked in leather and shadow, Eric prowls the decaying city streets, haunted by fragmented memories and burning with one purpose: justice. One by one, he hunts down the gang that destroyed his life, delivering a reckoning more terrifying than death itself.
As he nears the final confrontation, the line between man and monster blurs. Vengeance comes at a price. And the deeper Eric dives into his past, the closer he edges toward losing what remains of his soul.
In The Crow, grief becomes fury. Love transcends the grave. And beneath the thunder of storm clouds, a single truth echoes: It can’t rain all the time.