‘The Warriors’ (1979)

There are some movies that exist in a world of their own, although still the product of their times, they transcend their era and take on a form that remains compelling and entertaining years later. THE WARRIORS is one such example. It’s a low-budget gang film that has gained considerable cult status ever since its controversial 1979 release and for good reason.

Loosely based on Sol Yurick’s 1965 debut novel of depraved New York City gang life, THE WARRIORS depicts what happens during one long summer night as nine members of the Warriors, a Coney Island-based gang, find themselves falsely accused of murdering a charismatic gang leader named Cyrus (Roger Hill) as he attempts to unite the city’s leading gangs during a large gathering.

As police arrive to break up the crowd, the Warriors begin a frightening dash cross town to their home turf as gangs including the bald-headed Turnbulls, the face-painted Baseball Furies, and the overalls-wearing Punks hunt them down.

Luther (David Patrick Kelly), the real killer leads his Rogues gang in trying to silence the Warriors before the truth gets out while the Gramercy Riffs, the largest and most powerful gang in the city set out to avenge the death of their fallen leader.

Providing narrative context is the ever-present and anonymous voice of a radio DJ (Lynne Thigpen) who broadcasts progress reports on the gangs’ efforts.

As the night wears on, the Warriors struggle to escape pursing police in subway terminals and battle their way through gangs on the street. They eventually find themselves split up and divided by a power struggle following the loss of their leader. Amid this chaos, Swan (Michael Beck), the Warriors’ second in command assumes control and draws the attention of a tough-talking woman named Mercy (Deborah Van Valkenburgh) who leaves the second-rate Orphans gang to follow the Warriors as they attempt to reach Coney Island alive.

Starting with the premise, the film is a classic. Yurick’s inspiration for a New York City gang trying to make their way home through enemy turf comes directly from Xenophon’s Anabasis, an ancient account of how 10,000 Greek mercenaries found themselves stuck in the heart of Persia following the death of Cyrus, a would-be usurper whose regular army was defeated. Led by Xenophon, the mercenaries fought their way through enemy territory in a valiant retreat to reach the sea and safety. Director Walter Hill maintains this connection, particularly in his recent Director’s Cut which contains an introduction citing the Greek heroes’ similar plight.

THE WARRIORS mixes this simple, straight-forward premise with unpretentious acting and dialogue and a frantic drive that’s maintained by tight editing, an emphasis on running action over dialogue, and Barry De Vorzon’s distinctive rock-synth soundtrack.

None of the actors are well known, although genre fans should be acquainted with a few including James Remar, who subsequently showed up in films like MORTAL KOMBAT 2 and BLADE: TRINITY. He gives a rather good performance as the hot-headed brawler among the Warriors, whose temperament comes in handy when it comes to slugging it out with rival gang members, but proves to be his downfall as well.

Michael Beck grounds the heroes with his cool demeanor. Although it wasn’t originally scripted as such, he develops a relationship with Deborah Van Valkenburgh’s character that is quite intriguing. He generally treats her rough, but when it comes to being looked down upon by two prom couples in one of the film’s only slow moments, he silently comes to her defense with little more than a brushing gesture. Too bad he later took that tough guy image and ran it though the rotten musical meat grinder that was XANADU.

There is a fair amount of character study here for what is an action movie, but it’s not complete by any means. Swan and Ajax (Remar) are set up as rivals early on but nothing much comes of that in terms of resolution. Thomas Waites’ character The Fox was originally meant to play a larger role in the film as we see him prominently engaged as the witness to the murder of Cyrus, as Swan’s advisor and even initially as Mercy’s protector but he meets with an abrupt end early on that was a matter of convenience for the filmmakers. It doesn’t work well in the story.

The other prominent character is the main villain, as nicely played by David Patrick Kelly, a character actor who went on to play a similarly creepy villain in DREAMSCAPE. He doesn’t have a lot of scenes, but pretty much steals the show whenever he’s around, especially towards the end as he memorably taunts his foes with the eerie line, “Warriors, come out and play-ee-yeah.”

Kelly’s line delivery isn’t the only time we’re presented with iconic dialogue. Roger Hill’s opening oration as Cyrus is a fantastic performance that sets a powerful tone for the film as he incites his audience to riotous cheers with the repeated question, “Can you dig it?” It’s the kind of movie quote you’d expect to see on t-shirts, coffee mugs and bumper stickers.

What is especially intriguing about THE WARRIORS is how Walter Hill opts to create an exaggerated picture of New York gangs, while maintaining a raw energy in the action and desperation of our heroes. Each gang is reduced to uniformed platoons of thugs sporting stylized costumes that create a great visual contrast, but hardly reflect a realistic image of late-’70s-era street youth in New York.

For instance, the Gramercy Riffs wear orange karate tunics, while there are more creative looks such as the pimp-like Boppers in purple vests and the High Hats, who look like street mimes. The most intriguing look in terms of menace and a touch of fantasy are without a doubt the Baseball Furies. Their matching baseball uniforms and Kiss-inspired face paint makes them the highlight of the Warriors’ foes. That might also have something to do with the baseball-swinging action.

Despite the popularity of kung fu movies among urban youth in the late ’70s, Hill makes no attempt to try and force that kind of action into the movie. Hill and stunt coordinator Craig Baxley, who teamed up again for THE LONG RIDERS in 1980, craft some rather good screen fights by Hollywood standards of the day. There isn’t as much fighting as I would have liked to see. The Warriors spend a lot of time early on side-stepping confrontations. However, street-style fisticuffs, mixed with some weapons combat and gunplay becomes unavoidable as the Warriors begin to make a stand.

The film has two standout brawls. First, the Warriors end a chase in Central Park by stopping to engage the Baseball Furies. This is Hill’s Kurosawa moment as baseball bats become samurai swords in this nicely-choreographed and edited sequence.

Later, the Warriors lure the Punks gang into a public restroom and both sides break out into an all-out battle where bodies are tossed into wall mirrors and come crashing into restroom stalls. The level of violence is muted somewhat by limiting the amount of visual damage that fighters take and by overlaid music that smoothes over the scenes.

Despite being a low-budget action movie dealing with gang violence, there really isn’t much in the way of exploitive content that grindhouse moviegoers of the ’70s would have come to expect. In this way, Hill keeps the film on more of an accessible level with comic book leanings.

As a gang movie compared with the likes of BOYZ N THE HOOD, THE WARRIORS can easily be dismissed today as pulp fantasy, but that’s exactly how viewers should see and enjoy it. Upon its initial release in 1979, it drew controversy for sparking gang violence in theaters. It was pulled out of circulation early by a nervous Paramount studio despite being a box office success. This is almost laughable in hindsight when the movie itself is anything but controversial. Sol Yurick’s novel dealt with the social demoralization of gang life in a far more graphic nature. Stripped of such weighty material, Hill’s movie is an energized urban adventure with colorful characters and dialogue that gets the most out of its simple premise, while putting an upbeat spin on a dark story.