Review of The Warriors (1979) by David P — 13 Jul 2010

Much like how "The Good, The Bad and the Ugly" created an almost sci-fi tableau using a near-alien era of our history, "The Warriors" manages to be one-third Greek Odyssey, one-third future nightmare and one-third comic book movie.

Tonally it feels like a grim urban fairy tale. Despite the trappings that admittedly dates the film somewhat, the tale as told by "The Warriors" is timeless and plays out like a sequel to "300".

That's because it's inspired, in part, by another story of Spartan bravery written by the legendary Greek soldier and scribe Xenophon around 370 B.C. called "Anabasis". "Anabasis" (literally "going up") tells the story of an army of ten-thousand Greek mercenaries hired by a pretender to the Persian throne.

After some initial success, the army's patron is killed, rendering their mission pointless. To make matters worse, the mercenaries are now trapped deep in enemy territory; strangers in a strange land without supplies, safe passage or trusted allies.

In an epic struggle, they're forced to sneak, parlay and fight their way out of hostile lands to get back to their homes. "The Warriors" follows the same basic plot structure and the results are arresting.

In some future vision of New York, the city is overwhelmed by hundreds of waring gangs. With a dream of uniting all of them for the purpose of city-wide domination, Cyrus (Roger Hill), the charismatic leader of the dominant "Gramercy Riffs" calls for a midnight summit meeting between nine unarmed members from each and every gang.

Ten thousand people show up and among those in attendance are the titular Warriors. The majority of the gangs seem open to what Cyrus is proposing, except for "The Rogues". Their leader, Luther (David Patrick Kelly) has managed to sneak a gun into the meeting and he uses it to assassinate Cyrus and pin the blame on the Warriors.

Needless to say, anarchy ensues with a bounty being declared for the collective heads of the Warriors. The rest of the film follows our de facto heroes as they attempt to escape from the heart of darkness.

Along the way they face internal strife when their leader is lost, encounter enemy gangs like the surreal Yankee fetishist "Baseball Furies", adopt a wayward prostitute seeking deliverance who may be friend or foe, duck police, and navigate traps galore (including one courtesy of the all-female gang "The Lizzies").

This film is compulsively watchable and frankly, I'm dying to see it again. Director Walter Hill (who would go on to direct the classic Eddie Murphy/Nick Nolte pairing "48 Hours") creates a lean and mean thrill ride that's virtually impossible to take your eyes off of.

In fact, the film's simple and brilliant premise ensures that the ole' action engine gets kicked into overdrive within the first twenty minutes and never really cools down. With all the close calls, rumbles, foot chases and insanity the viewer often feels as breathless as the Warriors themselves as they struggle to keep up.

Hill also does a fantastic job on the action sequences. Instead of filming the fight scenes close up (which is de rigueur today among less talented directors), Hill has clearly choreographed the encounters in confident detail, allowing him to pull the camera back so that you can easily watch the battles progress.

His judicious use of slow-motion for the occasional "finishing move" also really ramps up the "pow"-factor. The film also looks fantastic. The costumes are simple but distinct. Some people may claim that the look of the gangs skews more towards goofy than intimidating, but that's just the point.

As if the colorful transition transition paintings and wipes aren't enough to drive the point home: "The Warriors" is really meant to be a comic book "day in the life" version of Alex's "Droogs" from "A Clockwork Orange".

I don't really comment too much on stuff like this in my reviews but the film's lighting is actually worth mentioning. The rain-slicked streets and lurid signage of a filthy, decrepit pre-Giuliani sanitized New York City are captured here documentary-style warts and all for eternity.

Shooting on location at the time was likely a huge pain in the ass for the film-makers but "The Warriors" is certainly richer for it. No modern-day monster budget could provide anything remotely so unique and special.

The performances are memorable right across the board. Michael Beck as "Swan" is the perfect anti-hero: calm under pressure, strong, crafty and no-nonsense. James Remar also goes for broke in his portrayal of "Ajax", Swan's main rival for control of the Warriors when their leader goes missing in action.

Remar doesn't look all that intimidating but as soon as the camera starts cranking he's all bravado, threat and petulance. His ultimate "Siren"-like fate may seem like a bit of a cop-out to some but I think it's thematically perfect in light of the character's recklessness and the film's inspirations.

The sheer presence of Brian Tyler as "Snow" also gift-wraps all the pop culture iconography "The Warriors" would ever need in one character. He's a bad-ass looking dude who rarely speaks but when he does, people need to shut the f#@$ up and listen.

Deborah Van Valkenburgh's "Mercy" provides much of the film's heart and she does so effortlessly. Unlike most films that shoe-horn a female character in just because market research dictates, she's subtlety written and we're often kept guessing about her motivations mainly due to the sassy attitude Van Valkenburgh brings to the part.

Also worth noting is the presence of the late Lynne Thigpen of "Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?" fame (or at least, the presence of her, um...mouth). Her distinctive voice is used to great effect here as an omnipotent late-night D.

J. who acts as a modern version of a Greek chorus, giving us status reports on the progress of our protagonists. My award for best turn, however, certainly goes to David Patrick Kelly as rival gang leader "Luther".

Making the most of his preciously short screen time, Kelly displays a memorable spectrum of tics, mannerisms, and weasely behavior to ensure you'll never forget him. The sequence towards the end when he clinks the bottles together and cat-calls our beleaguered heroes in a creepy sing-song voice: "WAR-RIORS! COME OUT TO PLA-AYYYYY!!!" is perhaps the most unnerving thing I've ever seen in a film, action or otherwise.

The final confrontation is also refreshingly economical and a great exclamation point for the character arcs that Swan and Mercy in particular have experienced. You owe it to yourself to seek this movie out.

It's a rich and propulsive experience. I urge you to look beyond the dated aspects and you'll find a timeless and engaging film that was overlooked when it was first released in 1979 but certainly deserves it's current reputation as a cult classic.

Tilt: up.