So totally 80’s in every aspect, director William Friedkin’s To Live and Die in L.A. is something of a time capsule for a decade full of sports cars, vibrant colors, outlandish clothing, cheesy one-liners… and awesome cop flicks. William Peterson stars as Richard Chance, a hotshot secret service agent who’s always tempting fate (hey, there’s something to that last name!), but the best role in the film goes to the short-lived Michael Greene as his partner Jimmy Hart. Hart is the type of aging department fixture who gets to spit out lines like “I’m getting too old for this shit!” and naturally, is only a few days away from retirement. He’s around just long enough to give our hero a bode of confidence with the surefire “there’s no other guy I’d want backing me up,” over a pint no less, then he receives the double-barrel shotgun blast to the chest that will provide our hero the proper motive for revenge. The man on the other end of that shotgun is a henchman for Eric Masters (Willem Dafoe), a counterfeiter that Chance and Hart had been investigating, searching for the whereabouts of his printing operation. The rest of the film plays out with Chance doing his best Dirty Harry impression, taking the law into his own hands with the help of his new partner and protégé John Vukovich, whom he informs, “I’m gonna bag Masters, and I don’t give a shit how I do it.” Chance starts making ethically questionable decisions, even illegal, trying to get the best of Masters… meanwhile, the two actors also seem to be having a personal battle of one-upmanship to out ‘cool’ one another (seriously, I’ve never seen so much glorious posturing and leather and scarf-wearing crammed into one film). This is most definitely California’s variation on “Miami Vice.” Even “Vice” producer Michael Mann felt that way, unsuccessfully trying to sue Friedkin for ripping him off. That might all make it seem like To Live and Die in L.A. is some kind of camp, but it’s better than that. What it is, is a thoroughly entertaining ride, much like the chase scene in the film that heads right into oncoming highway traffic. It’s at times brutal, shocking, amusing and engaging and it’s even got a couple tricks up its sleeve. Plus, it’s got a totally sweet synthesizer theme.
2 comments:
Yep you nailed it, pal. This is one of the most awesomely nihistic cop movies ever, proving once again that Friedkin's capable of greatness only when he's allowed to be a complete sadist and just abuse the shit out of the viewer. (Seen BUG yet?)
My entire generation is scarred for life because this was always on cable when we were way too young to handle it and... well, you know which scene I'm talking about.
Hey Sean, yeah, I saw Bug back when it came out on DVD and it's totally batshit crazy (you weren't kidding about Friedkin's abusive tendencies).
I liked it (totally the wrong choice of words) and give it sole credit for making me rethink my Ashley Judd and Harry Connick, Jr. hate but Judd and Michael Shannon's commitment to their roles had me feeling uneasy for days about their mental health. It's easily THE most nutzoid love story I've ever witnessed, Friedkin amplifies it perfectly, the acting was stunning and... I can't ever imagine revisiting it.
That is, until the day they gather these actors back together and Friedkin helms the stage version. Now THAT's a kind of unbalanced lunacy you'd almost have to see in person.
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