Dir. William Friedkin Rated: R Run Time: 1 hour 56 min
Where can I watch? Not available for streaming. (Note: I watched the 4K DVD)
William Friedkin’s To Live and Die in LA is a movie about irredeemable characters doing irredeemable things and, surprise surprise, not being redeemed for them. It’s a cops vs. criminals movie, ostensibly, but not one in which the argument is made that the cops are good and the criminals are bad. Everyone is bad, everyone makes bad choices, and absolutely everyone suffers the consequences. As the tagline says, “A Federal Agent is dead. A killer is loose. And the City of Angeles is about to explode.” The whole movie is a powder keg and a race to the bottom with no way out. It’s awesome.
When his partner is killed in two days before his retirement, Secret Service Agent Richard Chance (William Petersen) vows to take the man who did it down. That man is Eric Masters (Willem DaFoe), a vicious counterfeiter (because, in addition to protecting the president, the Secret Service investigates currency crimes) who will do anything to protect his operation. Chance is reckless and will do anything, legal or not, to take Masters down, which causes conflict in his relationship with his new partner, John Vukovich (John Pankow), who prefers to do things by the book. Things get real messy real quick.
The plot description reads like a cop movie cliché. Partner dies 2 days before retirement. New partners don’t get along. One is reckless, one is by the book. It’s all the elements of a buddy cop movie, and typing it out I was like “wow, this feels pretty generic”, but it’s how it’s all handled that makes the movie really sing. There is no sentiment to the movie whatsoever. When Chance’s partner is killed, his death is brutal, quick, and he’s left in a dumpster to rot. His single-minded pursuit of revenge seems devoid of duty to his partner, but more an obsession that he must see through to the end. He exploits an informant for sex throughout the film, and he’s completely unmoved by her fears that her role as an informant may be compromised, pressing her further and further into danger to extract more information. Chance is simply not a good dude. He makes horrible choices with horrible consequences, and they never once motivate him to stray from his mission of vengeance. Vukovich, meanwhile, plays closer to the moral center of the film, but even he won’t make it out unscathed. Chance and Vukovich never become friends, and they don’t even really like each other much, but Chance’s influence on Vukovich will slowly wear away at Vukovich’s sense of right and wrong until there is nothing left.
The Los Angeles of To Live and Die in LA is a sinister one. The sun is harsh, almost on fire, and large portions of the movie take place in the sprawl near the Port of Los Angeles or the concrete basin of the LA River. There are some iconic scenes shot at places like The Beverly Hilton, Union Station, and LAX, but for the most part you’re getting an LA that is not characterized by landmarks, but by blight. Danger lurks everywhere, and not a single exterior or interior in the entire movie could ever be considered remotely safe from danger. It all just feels so ominous. I remember this documentary that came out around 2008, called Los Angeles Plays Itself, in which the filmmaker argues that Los Angeles often plays the villain in movies, a place that threatens to swallow everyone up or where demons lurk just below the surface. That could not be more true in To Live and Die in LA.
The movie is known for its entirely Wang Chung soundtrack (including the eponymous title track, which plays no less than five times in the movie) and an incredibly shocking ending, but it is perhaps best known for one of the greatest car chases ever put to film. In fact, it was a sort of challenge that Friedkin gave to himself and his stunt coordinator. If they could come up with a car chase better than his own in The French Connection, he’d use it. If not, it would be cut from the film. Clearly they rose to the challenge. After a colossal screw up (the magnitude of which won’t be known until later), Chance and Vukovich find themselves pursued through the streets and alleys of downtown Los Angeles and on to the 110 freeway, where they drive the wrong way the entire time. Shot entirely practically (as one did in 1985), the number of close calls, near misses, and collisions caused nears Blues Brothers status, without any of the comedy. It doesn’t feel like a controlled environment with carefully managed destruction, but one in which the actors themselves could easily be killed. Petersen did a lot of his own driving, and John Pankow, who appears to be having a panic attack during the entire chase, truly was that stressed out. While the scene is not shot for comedy, the one light moment in the entire movie comes right at the end of the chase, when a 20 to 30 car pileup on the freeway is described during a traffic report as a “light dustup”, which shouldn’t delay commuters more than 10 minutes. LA traffic, baby: we’ve seen worse!
Every few years I rewatch To Live and Die in LA, and every time I do I’m reminded, “Damn, this movie is gnarly.” It’s got a real strong mean streak, but not one that feels like cruelty for cruelty’s sake. It’s fast-paced, supremely well-acted, and every few minutes you’ll find yourself saying, “oh shit” as you wonder, “how much worse can things get?” Much worse. They can always get much worse.