The Long Riders (1980) dir Walter Hill
Starring: James Keach, Stacey Keach, David Carradine, Keith Carradine, Robert Carradine, Randy Quaid, Dennis Quaid,

****
 By Alan Bacchus

By 1980, we were just starting the long doldrums of the Western genre. So maybe we can consider Walter Hill's The Long Riders the last great western. The story of Jesse James has been the subject of a hundred films over the last century, and arguably Walter Hill's is the top bar.

Walter Hill, known mainly as one of the best action directors of the ‘80s, was once a protégé of Sam Peckinpah, having written his fine Steve McQueen/Ali McGraw heist film The Getaway. The Peckinpah influence on Hill and The Long Riders is palpable.

Hill was a master of writing and directing mean and nasty characters, and the conflict between the James/Younger Gang and the Pinkerton authorities is tough and bloody. The opening establishes the steely eyed toughness of Jesse James (James Keach), who is introduced robbing a bank with his brother Frank (Stacy Keach) and his cohorts, the Youngers (the Carradine brothers) and the Millers (the Quaid brothers). After the trigger-happy Ed Miller gets kicked out of the gang, seeds of internal dissent within the group are born.

As they move between train robberies, bank heists, visits to whorehouses and even time spent at home with families, we see the concurrent actions of the Federal Government officers, The Pinkertons, to apprehend the gang.

As the opening Ry Cooder bluegrass tune plays over the elegant slow-motion footage of the gang riding across the lush green Missouri landscape, the reverence of both the genre and the history of the period is established. This tone continues throughout the mix of gritty actions scenes and genuine heartfelt nostalgia. Hill paints his characters as real working class people, but also aggrandized criminals who have helped form the myths and legends of the emerging nation.

The numerous action set pieces are phenomenal. The knife fight between James Remar and David Carradine is terrific. The battle between two badass characters – Remar, the muscular half-breed and husband to Pamela Reed's character, and David Carradine, the quiet and Zen-like client of the whore – is an awesome macho standoff.

Hill saves his best scene for last. It’s not only the best of his career, it’s one of the greatest action set pieces ever filmed by anyone. Hill applies all the Peckinpah influence and knowledge he gleaned from the ‘70s into his mesmerizing Minnesota raid bloodbath. The multiple camera frame rates and the same montage rhythm is the finest and most famous Peckinpah homage we've seen.

The Long Riders is available on Blu-ray from MGM Home Entertainment.

48 Hours (1982) dir, Walter Hill
Starring: Eddie Murphy, Nick Nolte, James Remar, Sonny Landham, Frank McRae

**1/2

By Alan Bacchus

Co-written by prolific action scribes/directors Steven E. De Souza, Roger Spottiswoode, and Walter Hill, this film acts like a template for 80’s action cinema. Buddy conflict 101 which begat other franchises such as Lethal Weapon, Bad Boys and lesser knock offs.

Here we have gruff cop Jack Cates (Nick Nolte) paired up with a wily and charasmatic con Reggie Hammond (Eddie Murphy) hunting down a cop killer and recent prison escapee who’s made off with Reggie's car and a briefcase full of cash.

It’s the buddy cop formula par excellence, one black, one white with much racial conflict dividing the two; we also have Frank McRae as the vein-pulsating chief at odds with Jack’s hot dog style of policing spouting now cliched dialogue like “If you screw up, I promise you you’re going down” (that's direct quote) a role he'd later lampoon in John McTiernan's Last Action Hero. We also find a compendium of 80’s thematic fixtures, obscenely foul mouthed characters, high body count, mondo bullet squib work, misogynistic attitudes to women and some 80’s titties added for good measure. We can find strange admiration for these genre elements which started a long and successful trend in Hollywood, but what we can’t find humour in is the shameful racial conflict which fuels much of the humour in this film.

The N-word is flung around much too casually it comes off as embarrassing as Eddie Murphy's AIDS rant in his Delirious stand up routine. In particular, the redneck bar sequence wherein Jack and Reggie search out accomplices to their suspect. in this scene Reggie is looked upon as if he entered a KKK rally, and the n-word insults he endures for sake of comedy is atrocious. Of course Reggie has the last laugh as he single-handily disarms the entire bar. But it’s part of the general exploitation of racial stereotypes which permeates every part of this film.

What we can admire is the film's place in the filmography of Walter Hill’s, his most successful film. Hill was simply one of the best directors of action in the late 70’s through the early 90’s. Once a protege of Sam Peckinpah’s Hill brought the same tough Western sensibilities of Peckinpah’s to modern period films such as Johnny Handsome, The Driver, and Extreme Prejudice.

Look for some of Hill’s stylistic hallmarks, including strong nighttime photography (when much of this film takes place). The look fits in well with the prevailing visual style of the times: soft and well lit blueish backgrounds and rainwashed streets reflecting the coloured neon brings to mind Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner, Michael Mann’s Thief and later Walter Hill’s own Streets of Fire.

Not only was this an early Joel Silver production, the film also featured an early score by James Horner (Aliens, Braveheart, Titanic). But instead of his now familiar orchestral melodies, Horner delivers a tough jazzy score using synthesizers and steel drums. Though it dates the film it represents the musical trends of the day in the best light possible.

Looking past the obscenities, 48 Hours serves chiefly as an Eddie Murphy vehicle, his first film outside of Saturday Night Live, and indeed it showcases his rapid-fire comedic skills and on screen charisma.

48 Hours is available on Blu-Ray from Paramount Pictures Home Entertainment

The Warriors (1979) - Ultimate Director's Cut dir. Walter Hill
Starring: Michael Beck, James Remar, Deborah Van Valkenburgh, David Patrick Kelly and Roger Hill

****

By Greg Klymkiw

Damn! This is one spectacular action picture that definitely deserves to be ranked as a classic of the genre. The movie is over thirty-years-old and while falling a few tiny notches below utter perfection, it has not dated at all and still carries the weight and power to dazzle audiences as it did so many years ago. It really is so terrific, I have to urge everyone to see it - preferably on Blu-Ray - before seeing the remake from that proficient, but utterly boneheaded hack Tony Scott.

The story is simple. A visionary New York City crime warlord named Cyrus (Roger Hill) gathers nine reps from one hundred gangs to assemble for a meeting in a Bronx park where he charismatically informs everyone that fighting for turf amongst each other is a losing game. He notes that NYC gang members number 100,000 strong and with only 20,000 policeman to fight crime, they outnumber law enforcement authorities big-time. In this small, but pivotal role, Roger Hill - with his resonant alto-bass voice - whips the masses into a frenzy with his punctuating cries of "Can you dig it?"

Alas, the psycho Luther (brilliantly played by David Patrick Kelly - a pre-Crispin Glover who out-Crispin-Glovers Crispin Glover) assassinates Cyrus and blames the murder on the Coney Island gang called The Warriors. Soon, the nine, stylish and buff young fellas from the wrong side of Brighton Beach find themselves having to get back to their home turf with 100,000 furious gang members thirsting for their blood. As Cyrus ordered everyone to come to the meeting sans-heat, The Warriors are unarmed and need to use brains, animal instinct and their fists to savagely defend themselves and embark on a dangerous odyssey across the city - a city so dark and labyrinthine, they might as well be trying to make their way on foot from Toronto to Timbuktu.

Led by the silent, but deadly Swan (Michael Beck) and the hot-headed Ajax (James Remar), The Warriors encounter some of the most nightmarish gangs imaginable. This is where Hill really succeeds in painting a veritable inferno. This New York City is unlike any New York we have ever seen. Yes, the streets are as rough and dirty as we've seen, but the population at night appears to be solely comprised of cops and gangs. And the gangs are adorned in "colours" (the threads that identify them) that create a kaleidoscopic of fresco of trash fashion and malevolence: the Gramercy Riffs are adorned in bright yellow satin kung-fu jammies and shades, the Lizzies, an all-female gang ooze sex appeal with their trashy, utilitarian garb and, among many other, the Baseball Furies deliver the kind of dazzling nightmare qualities that only the movies can give us as the gang members are outfitted in full baseball regalia, hideously painted faces and wielding heavy-duty baseball bats.

The journey itself is propelled by the gorgeous lips of a female D.J. who sexily spins appropriate tunes to fuel the action of the evening and murmurs threats to the Warriors and updated information to the 100,000 strong looking to take them out.The only slight disappointment here is the otherwise appropriate song "Nowhere to Run" which is, unfortunately, delivered by a pallid cover band instead of the original Martha and the Vandellas. Other than that, though, Barry De Vorzon's pulsating synth-score and Joe Walsh's stirring anthem "In the City", more than make up for the above mentioned musical gaffe.

Andrew Laszlo's cinematography etches a veritable film noir quality, but with dollops of fluorescent light and garish colour. The entire picture, save for the early morning light during the picture's climax, is shot at night where every deep, dark shadow pulsates with the threat of all manner of nastiness.

It's certainly no wonder that "The Warriors" took North American audiences by storm. Boxoffice on the picture sizzled and responses were highly emotional - especially in theatres situated in areas populated by heavy gang activity. This led to actual violence in some cinemas and both the studio and exhibitors across North America, fearing a backlash, idiotically started pulling advertising and even dropping the picture, in spite of its sizzling grosses. This, of course, resulted in numbers that didn't accurately reflect the movie's full potential. As an audience member in the relatively benign (at least in the 70s) city of Winnipeg, I was always amazed at the hugely emotional reaction to the film. People cheered, whistled, and clapped their way through the picture, and even when it ended its run, I remember booking the film in a repertory cinema I programmed - again and again and again. The grosses were stunning long after its first-run. Midnight screenings were especially lucrative and the audiences (gang-affiliated or not) stylishly adorned themselves in the manner of all the gangs in the movie.

"The Warriors" was more than a movie. It was a phenomenon. The kind of thing that doesn't really happen anymore in our world of short-runs, multiplexes and home entertainment.

Directed by Walter Hill, the only real heir apparent to the legendary Sam Peckinpah (Hill wrote the wonderful screenplay adaptation of Jim Thomson's "The Getaway" for Peckinpah), he was, for much of his career, one of the most agile, tough-minded and original directors of exquisite pulp. Hill could direct action scenes with the assuredness of a master, but his real talents were rooted in creating worlds that could ONLY exist on film - delicious never-never-lands that delivered a macho fairy tale quality for little boys of all ages. (Though, if truth be told, my nine-year-old daughter just saw "The Warriors" and was thoroughly dazzled by it.)

With one great action picture after another, Hill took us into almost fantastical worlds on the darkside of human existence. His debut, "Hard Times" lovingly recreated the world of prize-fighting during the depression, "The Driver" dove deeply into a pseudo-existentialist post-Jean-Pierre-Melville-styled world of car thieves and crooked cops, "The Long Riders" was, without question, one of the most evocative renderings of the Jesse James legend, "Southern Comfort" - clearly in "Deliverance" territory - this terrifying thriller followed a group of unarmed National Guardsmen through the Louisiana Bayous as they fend off repeated attacks by slavering psycho Cajun inbreds and finally, the spectacular expressionistic rock and roll phantasmagoria "Streets of Fire" capped a sterling career.

His foray into overtly conventional and commercial cinema delivered the well-directed, but empty-headed "48 Hrs." (and its dreadful sequel "Another 48 Hrs.") and signalled a beginning of the end for Hill. He never quite recovered from this period and his output ranged from dreadful to competent, with a few flawed, but interesting pictures like "Wild Bill", "Johnny Handsome" and "Crossroads".

His one great masterpiece, however, was and still is, "The Warriors". Hill's camera is always where it should be with superb compositions. Each shot is a gem and much like a great cartoon, Hill doesn't hold longer than he has to - he leaves you desperate for more. The editing, while fast-paced and flashy (replete with really cool wipes and dissolves) is, in tandem with the fabulous cinematography, never disorienting and/or sloppy in that contemporary herky-jerky style of contemporary action (usually directed by boneheads like J. J. Abrams or Christopher Nolan who have no talent whatsoever for crafting lean and mean action).

The Blu-Ray and DVD releases of "The Wariors" are presented as a Director's Cut. What this really means, is that Hill was finally able to incorporate comic book panels to bridge all the different movements and locations in the film. While the film lived without these additions for a long time - now that they're there, I can't quite imagine the picture without them.

With all the contemporary comic book film adaptations out there these days, "The Warriors" actually comes closest to recreating a thrilling and delightful comic book style. Not only because of Hill's recent additions, but in his adherence to a never-never-land mise-en-scene.

And the action sequences have seldom been matched. These spectacular set-pieces - replete with Peckinpah styled slow motion - are charged with the kind of fury that great action thrillers MUST have. The battle between the Warriors and the Baseball Furies in a dark, inner-city park with rich green lawns and leafy trees, is still a thing of great beauty and there's a sequence on a subway platform that's both chilling and finally, when the action shifts to a grotty public washroom, the choreography and pyrotechnics are a veritable ballet of visceral violence.

If you've never seen "The Warriors" you are doing yourself a great disservice by not seeing it, especially if your only taste is the remake. If you've seen it before, see it again. My recent helping of the picture was the first time I'd seen it since the 80s and I can assure you, it not only held up, but actually felt fresher, more vibrant and more urgent than ever before.

"The Warriors" is available on Blu-Ray and DVD from Paramount Home Video.

Red Heat (1988) dir. Walter Hill
Starring: James Belushi, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Ed O’Ross, Peter Boyle

**1/2

Most people don’t know Mario Kassar and Andrew Vajna but would certainly identify them from the shiny Carlco logo which appeared at the head of some of the best genre pictures of the 80’s and 90’s (‘First Blood’, ‘Terminator 2’, ‘Total Recall’). Kassar and Vajna were successful as producers because they hired some of the best action directors to ever film a gunfight such as James Cameron, Paul Verhoeven and Walter Hill.

Walter Hill in particular was one of the great action auteurs who apprenticed under the great Sam Peckinpah. Hill’s pictures in the late 70’s and early 80’s, ‘The Warriors’, ‘The Driver’, ‘Extreme Prejudice’ mixed western genre sensibilities with modern and mainstream action.

‘Red Heat’ is unfortunately not one of Hill’s best pictures, but has enough of his muscular masculine panache to produce a decent action boner.

The opening sequence is a fun homoerotic suspense sequence inside a Russian bathhouse. Arnold, playing an undercover Russian cop Ivan Danko scoping out for Russian drug dealers, enters the steamy sauna populated by muscle bound Russian lifting weights. Arnold’s no push over and he easily kicks some major ass all over the place.

The key perp, 'Rosta' Rostavili played deliciously by Ed O’Ross, escapes though to the U.S. to complete a huge multi-million dollar deal with some Chicago black Muslim thugs. Danko follows him and connects with local Chicago cops to catch his trail, partnering up with affable but tough detective Art Ridzik (James Belushi).

The culture clash between commie and American produces some decent sight gags, but very little substantial political commentary. The mechanics of the investigation are also rudimentary. Hill goes through the motions of using dirty tactics of threatens violence to witnesses and staking out hookers and brothels to find Rosta.

By Hill’s standards the action scenes are minor and adequate only – none which could rival some of the great heist sequences of ‘Johnny Handsome’, or ‘Extreme Prejudice’, or the chase scenes of ‘The Driver’. Even the buddy comedy dynamic is a pale version of the Eddie Murphy/Nick Nolte pairing in ’48 Hours.’

The final bus chase through Chicago is the highlight – a preposterous chase sequence indicative of the prevailing attitude of over-the-top carnage in 1980’s action.

“Red Heat” is available on Blu-Ray from Maple Pictures in Canada

The Warriors (1979) dir. Walter Hill
Starring: Michael Beck, James Remar

****

Can you count, suckers? “The Warriors” is product of the late 70’s. It’s a punk-film – anti-establishment and nihilistic. It’s also a fun romp through the streets of New York City when it was tough and mean and to be feared. The highly quotable best lines are heard in everything from video games to hip-hop songs. Why such a cultural impact? “The Warriors” began as a novel by Sol Yurick published in 1965 though only a skeleton of the book remains in the film. The filmed version was all its own and perfectly represented the time and place of New York in 1979.

The opening credits are awesome - a Peckinpah-style montage which intercuts the title credits with members of a street gang discussing a secret meeting of all the gangs of New York. These are “The Warriors”, a group of Coney Island bad-asses, led by Cleon (Dorsey Wright). Cyrus, a Dr. King-like orator, has assembled every gang in the city to propose a truce, unite in full nihilistic attitude, and takeover the city in a giant gangland revolution. He has 200,000 gang members ready to fight, “We take over one borough at a time. Secure our territory... secure our turf... because it's all our turf!” Can you dig it?

But when Cyrus is assassinated and the cops show up all hell breaks loose. In the melee the murder gets pinned on “The Warriors”. Cleon, their leader, is beaten and captured forcing the remainder of the gang to flee on their own. With the Warriors marked for death by every gang in the city, it becomes a desperate flight for survival to get back home to Coney Island – the last stop on the D-Line.

Along the journey a battle for the vacated leadership ensues between Swan (Michael Beck) and Ajax (James Remar). Swan’s the muscle, Ajax is the brawn. It’s a classic conflict. Each of the minor members of the gang are distinct, but they aren’t all tough guys, most are just scared kids looking for camaraderie and a sense of family. A journey wouldn’t be such without a nod to Homer’s “Odyssey,” and indeed, it has the token ‘siren scene’ when the gang encounters a group of girls who are both naughty and nice.

New York, of course, is a main character in the film. The film was made at the height of the graffiti craze. This was a time when virtually every subway car in New York was tagged. It was pre-Giuliani - a violent and scary place. Citizens were scared to walk the streets, subways or parks at night.

Walter Hill directs the film with his usual panache. He’s a master of close-quarters action, choreographing the action and suspense with confident skill. Michael Beck (Swan) succeeds as the hero. In fact, it’s a mystery why his career didn’t pan into a Hollywood leading man because he clearly has the chops. Perhaps it was the failure of his next film…ahem… “Xanadu”.

“The Warriors” and “Escape From New York” would make a great double-bill. They both reflect the pessimism from the late 70’s crossing over into the 80’s. With America coming off a stagflated economic recession the city could easily have fallen off the map and become what “Detroit” became or in, on film, turned itself in the city-prison in “Escape From New York”. Enjoy.

PS A remake by Tony-Scott is being shot, set in L.A. using real area-gangs. Interesting to see what comes of that.

Buy it here: The Warriors (The Ultimate Director's Cut)

One of the BEST opening credits sequences in history: