Reviews provided by RottenTomatoes
Detroit Free Press:
Makes repeated visits to a hell that looks to have been designed by Hieronymus Bosch in collaboration with Gianni Versace for a Marilyn Manson arena tour.
Peppered with so many neat touches, it almost doesn't matter the story is a muddle.
Though the story is potentially fascinating and the visuals sometimes spellbinding, the movie itself is stranded in the purgatory of the second-rate.
Reeves plays one of the comic-book world's most intriguing antiheroes in an adaptation that isn't the massive screw-up fans rightfully expected, but has a cool-to-silly ratio that's just barely acceptable.
Borderline incoherent, theologically unsatisfying, and short to the point of dwarfism on suspense.
Virtually anyone but Reeves would have made a better John Constantine.
Occult detective John Constantine (Reeves) has seen it all and responds to the most hideous threat with a puff on his cigarette and a self-assured leap into the abyss.
Alternates between quiet, surprisingly dull scenes in which the hero and the girl talk in that italicized comic-book way about his past and orgies of computer pixels dressed up as gibbering fiends.
Los Angeles Times:
Despite some witty special effects and a appealing concept, Constantine meanders in too many directions to make much sense even to itself.
Takes itself just seriously enough to put on a good show. Reeves earns some theatrical redemption, the demons put a scare into the waywardly righteous, and there are plenty of evil-duders left over for a sequel.
Globe and Mail:
You can just picture the meeting: A few guys in Prada suits sit around an L.A. boardroom table going, 'The Matrix meets The Exorcist, huh . . .? With Keanu? I like it. No wait - I love it.'
Dallas Morning News:
Constantine deals, at least in part, with its title character's attempt to cross over from hell to heaven. But there's no uncertainty about the movie's fate. It quickly heads south.
An imaginative, if overstuffed attempt to chart the boundaries of American spiritual life.
Takes too long telling a story that could have delivered maximum impact in less time.
Peaks early, then descends into portentous nonsense.
This is nonsense, of course, and the trappings surrounding it only typify the absolute worst of comic books.
New York Times:
Keanu Reeves plays a haunted, expressionless traveler in an overblown theological thriller based on the DC/Vertigo comic book Hellblazer.
New York Observer:
I deeply loathe the Heaven-and-Hell genre to which this cinematic comic-book spectacular belongs.
It's a ponderous bore. Dull dialogue, dull situations and a serious lack of urgency hinder what should be a high-stakes slice of pseudo-religious heresy.
An uneven amalgamation of the brilliant and the preposterous, Constantine left me by turns intrigued, confused, and wary.
Reeves has a deliberately morose energy level in the movie, as befits one who has seen hell, walks among half-demons, and is dying.
Keanu Reeves is -- let me just get this off my chest -- very good.
San Francisco Chronicle:
The movie isn't hellish, because there's always hope of leaving it. It's more like purgatory, two whole hours of it.
Minneapolis Star Tribune:
Hellacious, audacious, visually stunning and deeply wiggy, Constantine is a miracle, a comic-book movie for smart people.
There is no person in movie history who has devoted more time to defending civilization from evil and obliteration than Keanu Reeves, or who has spent more time shifting between spiritual, perceptual and historical planes to do the job right proper.
Halfway through Constantine, a fully clad Keanu Reeves steps into a shallow pail of water, sits on a chair next to it and holds a cat in his lap.
So where are we? In two hours of Dullsville, as Sinatra used to say.
Blazes few new trails and bogs down in a confusing narrative muddle.
The actor's black-on-white getup makes it plain that Constantine is one 'whoa' away from Neo-dom, and that Constantine likely represents the start of another Hollywood franchise with diminishing returns in its future.
The screenplay by Frank A. Cappello and Kevin Brodbin is only interesting for a few characters, hardly the story.
Reeves wears essentially the same black wardrobe, does the same moves, shows off the same galling lack of acting ability, but with a slightly different haircut.