Vivir y morir en Los Ángeles

When Friedkin went "back on the streets" in 1985 to make TO LIVE AND DIE IN L.A., he made a classic that will endure and that perfectly captures its 80's milieu.

I don't understand these idiots who complain how a film is "dated" by its music. Of course a film is "dated" by its specific elements, but so what. This superb film, which has an amazingly kinetic Wang Cheung score, is about a time (the mid-eighties) and place (L.A.) that is now history, and it is a punishing document.

The film works on many levels. Yes, it is about counterfeiting and superficial (re: counterfeit) relationships. It is about greed, survival, justice and morality. It is also about human beings using and laying to waste other human beings.

These powerful ingredients weave their way through a police procedural/action thriller plot that never stops to catch its breath and is pure cinema.

Willem Dafoe is totally engrossing as the film's villain, while William Peterson delivers a highly focused, tough turn. Dean Stockwell is also a stand-out as a crook lawyer and real cop Jack Hoar is quietly spectacular as Dafoe's mule.

And the film boasts one unbelievable car chase that has not been equaled since.

But LIVE AND DIE is also a film that expertly marries the visual to the aural and depicts a part of Southern California that has not been so credibly depicted before.

Dynamite!

This brutal film about a dirty cop's personal vendetta in the Los Angeles underworld of counterfeiting, snitching and ruthless executions was both hailed and criticised at the time it came out - for being unforgivingly realistic and unforgivingly vile, respectively. And they were all right; the film paints a harrowing picture of a cold, cynical macho culture in Reagan era L. A. in which everything and nothing was justifiable and where the distinction between the good guys and bad guys had been almost completely obliterated.

William Friedkin (The Exorcist) adapted and directed the film seemingly with an intention of not making any compromises. The film is as violent as anything you'll see from this period, like a cross between Dirty Harry and Cobra, completely free of moral justification, heck even moral discussion. It's not immoral, it's completely amoral. And Friedkin's use of violence is not a tad poetic or beautiful (like Tarantino's for example), but not fun and simple either (like the violence in many other films from this period). Friedkin's violence is dejected, serving only to suck the joy out of us and the characters in the film. But still we want to keep watching, because the film has an exhilarating quality to it, created in large by its stance: You're free to root for whomever you want; or better still - not root for anyone.

To Live and Die in L. A. doesn't speak to your empathy or sense of right and wrong; it speaks to your gut. It's thrilling in much the same way as a roller-coaster. The film is marred by some of the typical mid-80s weaknesses, like a masturbation of its own action set-pieces and simplified supporting characters. But on the other hand, it has a rawness to it which is missing from many of today's action films. And the fine performances by the two leads does a lot to enhance this effect, particularly a young Willem Dafoe who personifies this said rawness. Look also for Dean Stockwell as a delightfully slimy lawyer.

Despite a confusing (or irrelevant?) opening segment, To Live and Die in L.A. is an authentic and somewhat disturbing crime film. In fact, some of the film is so harrowing and caustic it evokes almost horror-like inspiration. As you might have heard by now, it involves one of the finest car chase scenes ever put to film.

The film follows a couple of Secret Service agents for the National Treasury as they try to track down a counterfeiter. As the movie rolls on, it becomes clear that these agents are pretty shady in the way they gleam information and that the ties between crime and justice are actually quite close. I know, it sounds like an obvious plot, but the editing, pacing, characters and twists are all pretty unexpected or original. It is not nearly as cliché as it sounds.

The downsides to the movie could be some of the aesthetic choices: the neon colors are sweet (I think) but some of the soundtrack is just too grating. You REALLY feel like you're hopped up on speed after hearing the main theme for too long. It's done by Wang Chung, but I think Tangerine Dream would've created something much more provocative. Oh well. Also, I felt like one or two characters' stories were not really concluded properly. There was a minor hang-nail or two left at the end.

But all in all, this is a solid film. Very inspired, very dark, simultaneously exciting and depressing. Seriously, this movie is way more intensely real than anything Tarantino has tried to do. It may not actually be more violent per say, but the violence itself it much more effective and the social ties are far more believable. This junk is scary.

The fast paced, very 80's style of this movie is quite the contrast to the somber almost documentary mood of William Friedken's more famous crime film The French Connection. Yet what parallels in both these films is the authenticity and grittiness as well as an intense car chase. Its clear he was attempting at recreating if not outdoing the most famous scene in his career, and I won't say he did, but he certainly gives it a run for its money.

The film doesn't go far enough to be a genre breaker(a film that's just an all-around classic) but it pushes the limit on what a movie like this can be like, making To Live and Die in LA probably the most underrated crime movie of the decade.

Another critic discussing this film accurately mentioned "being shamefully ignored" as an injustice this 1985 William-Friedkin masterpiece suffered upon its release. And it was not only the critics who failed to notice its worth. For some reason, the public stayed away in droves as well, this as myself and my friend were practically organizing tours to the theater, introducing people to the film who, weened on "48 Hours", "Miami Vice" and yet to experience the Abbott & Costello hijinks of the "Lethal Weapon" series, had little concept of what a below-the-belt, impeccably crafted cop movie could be. Or would turn into.

Those who've seen Friedkin's earlier genre entry "The French Connection" shouldn't be caught off guard by his often ruthless tactics here, as he's back in the familiar territory of cops and criminals. Nor should those who survived his muscular "Sorcerer"--another unsung hero of an action piece--be unprepared for the director's inability to hide the more challenging (and dreadful) sides of male conflict. Even the disturbing "Cruising", where no attempts were made by the film to explain its ugly corkscrew of a story, all the while summoning an atmosphere thick with dread, still suspenseful, but full of plot holes conveniently filled with leather jackets and the scariest Village-People-on-PCP-soundtrack to date, is just another Friedkin descent into Hell. The details always more than part of a whole.

It may show the surface of a genre flick, but beneath the pulsing Wang Chung soundtrack and 80s-reflective duds (no Members Only jackets appear, luckily) there is as lean and mean and taut a suspense thriller as even Don Siegel could deliver in his prime. And with an outstanding, hyper-realistic cast of then unknowns--including Chicago theater alumni William Pederson, pre-"CSI" and with even more cock to his walk, swaggering through his pursuit of a damaged counterfeiter, Willem Dafoe--the screws tighten with each and every action sequence, climaxing the building mayhem with a cathartic, freeway massacre of automotive chaos on the same scale as a "Mad Max" movie.

The characters ar caustic, the betrayals extremely violent, the music pounding, the ending, in particular, is a departure from the Gerald Petievich novel, the author, himself, a retired U.S. Treasury agent writing an even bleaker resolution to the problem of two unstable detectives at odds with each other, losing their sanity, and finding no comfort in their escalating criminal misbehavior. "To Live And Die In LA" marks a significant and welcome departure within such an oversaturated genre, the buddy cop movie. It refuses to soften its blows or coddle its audience, showing instead dangerous, volatile situations being taken serious. Brutally serious.

Nonetheless, for all its nihilistic tone, captured in parched images of a city populated by thugs, thieves, and sociopathic criminals, "To Live And Die In LA" is like a breath of fresh smog.