So one of the things I would like to do with my blog here is a kind of “From the Vault” segment. I’ve been on older movie frenzy for awhile now and being that I’m a loud-mouthed, opinionated bastard I love to share things I like/dislike with folks who are of like minds. So every so often we’ll fire up Takashi’s Time Machine and travel back in time to examine something no one else is currently talking about. First up is 1985, so grab a couple cans of Bud Dry, your favorite slap bracelet and try not to get sucked in by the Charles in Charge episode on the TV – we’re headed into the eighties!!!

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WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD (not that anyone necessarily cares about spoilers from a flick from 1985, but just wanted to be nice and honest here).
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So William Friedkin’s TO LIVE AND DIE IN LA is something else. I have no idea what prompted me to rent this flick. If I saw it before now, it would have been the time I was about 9 years old, so it remains lost to the hazy ethers along with things like THE FALCON AND THE SNOWMAN or samurai-themed episodes of MIAMI VICE – in other words, hopelessly adrift within and indistinct from a thousand other violent images that flooded the airwaves and magnetic tape of those wonderful automatic weapon- and cocaine-fueled 80s. So I had no vested interest, yet somehow the title always held something for me – it sounded like a vast, epic tale of life. Already balancing two other flicks and a large bag of chocolate-covered pretzels (mmm!!!) I added this title to the pile and made for the check-out queue.

Upon returning home, my curiosity could no longer be contained and my impulsive add-on became my viewing for the evening. I consumed a few necessary atmosphere-setting ingredients and popped what the San Francisco Examiner called “Friedkin’s finest hour” into the DVD player.

I have to admit the Wang Chung soundtrack had me worried a bit. Now, some music <i>sets</i> the date for a movie and then some music that <i>dates</i> movies – i.e., kitchy flash-in-the-pan type artists who thrive with a sound that, due to various components – i.e., fad recording techniques like the over-reverberation of the 80s or the quirky synthesizer tones of the same decade as well as the one before – will live only at that time. So maybe the Wang Chung is the cherry on the sundae that helps a movie like this perfectly encapsulate the time it takes place in. I try to play devil’s advocate and not get bogged down by the fact that long ago I swore if I never heard Wang Chung again it would be too soon.

The movie opens with William Petersen and his partner involved in a violent debacle while providing security for then-president Ronald “bag o’ laughs” Reagan. After almost getting himself blown up on a skyscraper, his partner, played by Michael Greene, declares he is going to retire. Now, as we move into the plot set-up, guess what? With something like three days before retiring, Greene is – OF COURSE – going to do something cliche and stupid by going on a stakeout ALONE. Maybe it’s just hindsight, where this kind of thing has been made fun of in McBain asides on old Simpsons episodes, but isn’t this just a bit ridiculous? Who would do this?

So what kept me glued? That devil’s advocate posture. I (generally) hate to rip anything without actually watching it.

Now, a little bit further in and we get the first of two scenes that pull this one out of the fire altogether and have had me looking back on it for a week and a half now in a favorable light. Willem Dafoe plays the villain, a robe-wearing, fire-starting, threesome-arranging counterfeiter who kills Greene and thus sets Petersen off on his vendetta*. Somewhere around the 15-minute mark we are treated to a wonderfully long and involved sequence that shows Dafoe making counterfeit bills. Visually this was just amazing, and I was so impressed I actually started snooping around later and found out that, according to the filmmakers, they had two convicted counterfeiters on set and actually made real counterfeit money. This may just be “street cred bravado,” but supposedly the feds even began investigating the filmmakers for essentially committing the crime they were attempting to document. Interesting, no?

So now I’m in for the long haul, Wang Chung be damned! Petersen gets a new partner and the plot winds in the direction you would think, and although Petersen is not really an actor I care for (really, do you have to get down on your haunches <i>every</i> time you round a corner?) it keeps me interested. Especially Dafoe. Then the first twist comes and Petersen (or perhaps more appropriately ‘Haunches’ as I will now call him) and his new partner, played by John Pankow, essentially rob and cause the death of another federal agent in order to get the money to complete an undercover deal with Dafoe. It might sound trite, but it plays out pretty well. All this leads up to the first climax, as essentially there are two.

If you know anything at all about this flick, it’s probably that it was the movie where Friedkin tried to out-French Connection “The French Connection” by choreographing an even more insane car chase than the one in the aforementioned classic. To do this, Friedkin stages what begins as just another high-speed car chase that turns into – ready? – a high-speed car chase AGAINST TRAFFIC ON THE LOS ANGELES 110 FREEWAY. For those of you who live here and travel this thing everyday you can imagine it is truly insane. Of course, this all would have made an even better impression on me if it wasn’t old “Haunches” in the car, but still quite impressive and entertaining nonetheless.

At this point, the endearing qualities of this film, for me, are steeped in the functionality of the filmmaking and not so much in the “world” the filmmakers have created. As I hinted at before, perhaps this is because that world is the real world of 1980s LA with all its bad fashion, bad music and bad attitude. Again, herein lies that special conundrum – I find myself appreciating the filmmakers’ ability to so accurately portray the “noir” of a city like LA at this atrocious time in our culture’s history, regardless of the gag reflex it so often invokes. I’ve mentioned the counterfeit scene that was the first of the big two that won me over. Now comes the second.

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SPOILER (this really gives it all away, so if you’re even remotely interested at this point, stop reading and go rent it).

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After the chase we get the payoff – the deal goes down between Haunches, his partner and Dafoe. So what do you think happens? Of course as soon as the counterfeit bills change hands the cops reveal themselves and pull their weapons – revenge is upon us, eh?

Nope.

In a mindblowing move, Friedkin has Dafoe’s bodyguard SHOOT HAUNCHES IN THE FACE, with a shotgun no less. I sit up and exclaim, “THEY KILLED HAUNCHES!”

“YOU BASTARDS!” my friend Kyle exclaims from beneath his green hat. But I’m stoked. I have a thing for creators who kill main characters. It shows balls and a willingness to flip the finger to the pre-established and safe formulas that govern so much of the film industry.

So Haunches is not to be seen again, Dafoe gets away and the freakin’ movie is still trucking along. There’s a good 10 to 15 minutes left at this point and by the end I’ve indeed come out a fan (more so with a week and a half’s hindsight).

In researching the flick, I discover that MGM originally gave Friedkin a big “NO” to killing the star, so Friedkin filmed an alternate ending but ended up releasing it as-is at the time, essentially telling MGM to go fuck themselves if they didn’t like the movie he’d made. Kudos William – though I’d not necessarily agree this is your finest hour with a little masterpiece called The Exorcist out there, but still, To Live and Die in LA is flawed but ultimately pretty damn good.

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* Candidate for best line in the movie: “Let me tell you something, amigo. I’m gonna bag Masters, and I don’t give a shit how I do it.” (Amigo is Petersen’s character’s pet word for everybody – his dialogue quirk that tells you he’s a real, “I’m in charge here, dirtbag” kinda guy.)