Good evening film freaks and cinema sinners. This is D.S., warming up the Genrebusters channel to deliver the word on a film that takes things to the streets and looks good - real good. I don't know about you, but when I'm watching films I look for different things. Sometimes I want a good story; sometimes I want ideas. Some movies make me laugh; others are best taken as a chaser, if you know what I mean. But this movie that I'm about to tell you about has that special kind of flavor that sticks around long after the end and makes you feel like a kid coming home from trick-or-treatin'. I'm talking about Walter Hill's The Warriors - and let me tell you brothers and sisters, this is the kind of film that keeps my love for cinema alive.
Maybe you've heard about this one. I had, before I slipped that shiny disc into the DVD player, many times in fact. But this movie has been one of those things that people talk about and you nod your head and say, Yeah, I'm into that, but it's actually some time before you really go there. If you're one of those people, listen up: go there, right now. No more waiting, because you're missing what's fine in life.
Put this baby on, and you'll be caught by opening credits that could have come straight out of a comic book. The gangs of a future New York are on the move. One of them is the Warriors, and they're talking about a big meeting. Every gang that counts is going, nine members only, no one packing. They board a train, and the titles cruise alongside. It's all brought together with direction and editing that take their time to give you what's good. 'Cause you see, the people who put this thing together know what they're doing, and all you have to do is take it in, like a cool smoke in bed.
I gotta hand it to the people who made this mean little movie, because they hit gold with simple tools. The setup is simplicity itself: the Warriors are far from their turf, empty-handed, and wanted by every gang and police officer on the way. For sets you've got the street, the park, the subway, and a few interiors. The gangs fight with baseball bats and switches and the occasional piece, and when none of that's around, bare knuckles. The police show up in force a few times, but I bet the law was more than happy to pose for the cameras. It's all so humble, and it's all so on the money that you'll be ready to believe these people can make straw into gold.
All the Warriors gotta do is get from point A to point B and dodge all of the goons and cops in between. Easy, right? Sorry baby, but it ain't that way on this night, because no formulas apply. The Warriors get cornered, and there's no telling what's gonna happen next. When they run, you'll feel the pavement, and when they fight, you'll feel the pain. There are even quiet moments in between that sneak up on you and say something worth hearing.
Back to those fights, because I've got to say, our boys know how to put their fists to good use, and they bust up some people but good. Some lovely ladies who play for the other team try to ambush a few Warriors and get real intimate with a beating instead. A bunch of Brady boys follow them into the bathroom and everybody gets close and takes some serious damage. If you haven't already - and shame on you - these scenes will make you thank that direction and editing we were talking about, because you get to see all the action without those crafty cuts and the shifty slo-mo that just get in the way.
I could praise The Warriors all night, but let me take a cue from Hill and his crew and boil it down: this film has class, and when you see how good it is you'll feel just as good. Remember what I said, and check it out if you're still unacquainted. If I've been preaching to the initiated, it never hurts to pay your respects one more time.
This is D.S., wishing all you screen lovers a night of sweet cinematic dreams where you get to be the best.
8/19/07
