By Todd Garbarini

I hated William Friedkin’s 1985 police thriller, To Live and Die in L.A., when I first saw it. The mixture of Eighties-style pop music by Wang Chung and the disreputable characters were, I felt, meretricious and off-putting. Even the car chase seemed lackluster. I also hated Dario Argento’s Four Flies on Grey Velvet (1972), James Toback’s Fingers (1978) and David Lynch’s Blue Velvet (1986) during my first viewings. Revisiting these titles soon afterwards made me realize that I failed to fully appreciate or understand them. My ignorance of film was evident!

To Live and Die in L.A., which opened nationwide on Friday, November 1, 1985 to lukewarm notices and underwhelming box office despite being championed by a four-star review by Roger Ebert, is a highly stylized, dark, and uncompromising crime thriller that boasts a then-unknown cast with a story and a pace that feels more suited to the 1970s. It also contains what I consider to be the greatest car chase ever filmed and edited for a major motion picture, which took no less than five weeks to plan and shoot.

Having seen Mr. Friedkin’s brilliant Oscar-winning East Coast police thriller The French Connection (1971), this West Coast-based yarn centers on a Secret Service agent, Richard Chance (William Petersen), whose best friend and partner Jim Hart (Michael Greene) has been murdered in cold blood by artist/currency counterfeiter Rick Masters (Willem Dafoe) just days prior to his retirement. This plot device occurred before it became a familiar film trope, and this is easily one of the best films of the 1980s. Chance has one goal: to put Masters away for life with no regard for how he has to do it. Truthfully, he would prefer to kill him. This causes many issues for his new partner John Vukovich (John Pankow) whose familial lineage of law enforcement officers and his “by the book” methodology conflicts with Chance’s no-bullshit headstrong attitude. Vukovich’s unwillingness to go outside the boundaries of acceptability is tested when: Chance surreptitiously removes crucial evidence from a crime scene in order to get to Masters; Chance, without Vukovich’s knowledge, springs a prisoner friend (John Turturro) of Masters to get him to testify; and most notably forces Vukovich to go along with a plan to obtain cash needed to get closer to Masters while nearly dying in what is arguably cinema’s most exciting getaway car chase sequence. What makes the chase work so well is that it’s physical, it’s possible (though highly improbable), and it’s not done in a Fast and the Furious, over-the-top sort of way. Nor is it perfunctory as it comes as a result of an important plot point, nearly besting the director’s own French Connection subway/car chase with a headlong ride straight up the 710 Long Beach Freeway while driving in the wrong direction against traffic.

Chance also beds a willing parolee (Darlanne Fluegel) who gives him information on current convicts in return for money to provide for herself and her son Christopher. Like the inexorable Popeye Doyle in The French Connection who will stop at nothing to put drug dealers and users away, Chance, like his surname, will stop at nothing to capture and punish Masters. The difference between the two films is that the former paints Brooklyn and New York City as gritty and almost despairing cities whereas the latter bathes the frame in a Los Angeles that we have not seen before or since. While also gritty, grimy and dark, this is a Lotus Land that is also highly glossy and enticing, with beautiful people who are about as real as the counterfeit bills that Masters manufactures. The overall theme and central conceit of To Live and Die in L.A. is fraudulence. People use each other for their own personal gains. Masters is an artist but hates what he paints and burns his work in frustration. Since he cannot find joy or satisfaction in his own originality, he resorts to copying others, in this case $20, $50, and $100 bills in a procedure that is painstaking, difficult, and now archaic.

Like The French Connection, To Live and Die in LA is also based on a book of the same name, this one a novel written by former Secret Service Agent Gerald Petievich. What makes the film remarkable is the opening sequence which features a martyr who shouts “Allahu Akbar” just before blowing himself up on the roof of a hotel where then-President Reagan is giving a speech. This scene made little sense to me upon my maiden viewing but is eerily prescient of the religious extremism that has made its way to America’s shores.

The performances are excellent all around. William Petersen, whose film debut was as a bar bouncer in Michael Mann’s Thief (1981), is terrific as Chance and plays him as a daredevil whose cowboy nature seals his fate and makes him a dangerous person to be around. This is established in an early sequence wherein Chance bungee jumps off the Vincent Thomas Bridge in San Pedro, CA. In addition to the martyr sequence, this could also be one of the earliest instances of this now highly popular activity’s depiction in a film. John Pankow is also quite good as Chance’s conflicted partner. The stand-out is Willem Dafoe as Masters, fresh from Walter Hill’s 1984 outing Streets of Fire. His icy expressions and demeanor can change on a moment’s notice without warning. Darlanne Fluegel, who heartbreakingly left us far too soon following an early onset of Alzheimer’s Disease, is mysterious as Chance’s muse. I first saw her in Battle Beyond the Stars (1980). Debra Feuer is striking as Masters’ girlfriend and confidante. The late Dean Stockwell is great as Masters’ lawyer - you can almost see him prepping himself for the role of Ben in David Lynch’s aforementioned and masterful Blue Velvet the following year. Steve James is an actor I always liked ever since I first saw him in the “Night Vigil” episode of T.J. Hooker in 1984. He started in the industry as a stunt man in films as diverse as The Wiz (1978), The Wanderers (1979), The Warriors (1979), Dressed to Kill (1980), and He Knows You’re Alone (1980) prior to onscreen acting. Here he plays Jeff, one of Masters’ clients and his performance, though small, shines. He also appeared in the William Friedkin TV-movie C.A.T. Squad in 1986, which was also written by Mr. Petievich. His premature death in 1993 from what is rumored to be the medical treatment that he received after a cancer diagnosis is a tremendous loss to the entertainment industry.

To Live and Die in L.A. has been released on home video many times in the United States and is now available on 4K UHD Blu-ray courtesy of Kino Lorber. The extras, which are ported over from the 2016 SHOUT! Factory Special Edition Blu-ray and the 2003 MGM/UA Home Video DVD, are all included and are as follows:

Disc One:

- 4K UHD Blu-ray remastered from the original camera negative.

- Audio Commentary by Director William Friedkin from 2003 – this runs the full length of the film and is the only bonus to be included on both the 4K UHD disc and the standard 1080p Blu-ray.

Disc Two:

- Standard 1080p Blu-ray down-converted from a 4K remastering from the original camera negative.

- Audio Commentary by Director William Friedkin from 2003.

- Taking a Chance: Interview with Actor William Petersen (20:42, in high definition, from 2016) – Gary Sinise read for the role of Richard Chance with the casting director, but the role instead went to William Petersen after he read for it at William Friedkin’s New York City apartment. A second reading with actor friend John Pankow solidified their roles.

- Renaissance Woman in L.A. Interview with Actress Debra Feuer (14:56, in high definition, from 2016) – Ms. Feuer reminisces about how wonderful the experience was for her. Despite the sexual angle of the film which made her uncomfortable, the cast and crew made her receptive and accepted on the set. Her role is small but important and I would love to see her in more films.

- Doctor for a Day: Interview with Actor Dwier Brown (08:53, in high definition, from 2016) – Dwier Brown talks about his excitement over reading for the film. He would later go on to appear as Phil Sterling in Mr. Friedkin’s 1989 druid-horror film The Guardian, and humorously recalls how the director forgot that he was in To Live and Die in L.A.

- So in Phase - Scoring To Live and Die in L.A. Interview with Composers Wang Chung (12:44, in high definition, from 2016) – It’s amazing that Mr. Friedkin heard Wang Chung’s 1984 album Points on the Curve, in particular the song “Wait,” and explained that that was the vibe that he wanted from the album for the film score. While there is a soundtrack album available for this film, it’s incomplete, and I hope that one day a full soundtrack album, remastered from the original master tracks, will be issued. Wang Chung recalls some interesting anecdotes in this onscreen interview.

- Wrong Way - The Stunts of To Live and Die in L.A. Interview with Stunt Coordinator Buddy Joe Hooker (35:39, in high definition, from 2016) – The famous stunt man discusses the intricacies and challenges of filming one of the most dangerous car chases ever mounted for a film. The director was all about disorienting the audience, and that notion comes into play here in how the chase was staged and ultimately executed.

- Counterfeit World - The Making of To Live and Die in L.A. Documentary (29:52, in standard definition, from 2003) – This is a fun look behind the scenes with mini interviews from many of the cast and crew involved, with discussions regarding the characterizations as portrayed by the actors and actresses to filming the famed car chase.

- Deleted Scene and Alternate Ending with Introductions (13:07) – this is the ridiculous ending that the director shot to please the studio executives and thankfully was never used. You won’t believe it when you see it.

- Radio Spot (01:04)

- Trailer (2:08)

All in all, a great package of a great movie.

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By Todd Garbarini

Something happened to me while watching John Cassavetes’s film Gloria that, to my knowledge, has never, ever happened before and probably will never, ever happen again. Towards the end of the film, the titular heroine exits a cab and asks the cabbie for the time, and she replies, “It’s 9:20.” Unbelievably, this was the exact time of day that it was on my clock as I watched the film in the evening. In films, people give the time to others when asked (Charles Martin Smith is told that it’s “a quarter to twelve” when attempting to purchase alcohol in George Lucas’s 1973 film American Graffiti), but the phenomenon of the onscreen reel time being in synch with the offscreen real time is something that I have not experienced before, and it got me to thinking about how certain things happen by mere happenstance.

The cinema of John Cassavetes is an acquired taste as he was a maverick who made many films on his own terms. If the general audience loved his work, it would infuriate him and he would recut the film, as was the case with 1970’s Husbands, a film that was released, critically acclaimed, pulled out of release and re-cut into a completely different film, culled from roughly 240 hours of raw footage. Co-star Ben Gazzara stated that his favorite version of the film ran four-and-a-half hours. The director often employed members of a small but loyal acting troupe headed by his wife, Gena Rowlands, who portrays the titular heroine in this film, shot between July and September 1979 and released in New York on Wednesday, October 1, 1980. She received her second Oscar nomination for her performance here, the first being for A Woman Under the Influence in 1974, also under the direction her husband.

Gloria is a film mired in Manhattan, Harlem and the Bronx in New York. The film opens with nighttime establishing shots of the New York skyline to the music of Bill Conti best known for the theme to Rocky (1976). The Statue of Liberty and several bridges are luminescent and invoke Richard Donner’s Superman: The Movie filmed there two years earlier. The daylight exposes the filthy streets and the people who inhabit them. A six-year-old Puerto Rican boy, Phil Dawn (John Adames), narrowly escapes being killed by the Mafia following his mob accountant father’s (Buck Henry of all people) involvement with them turned sour. Phil is saddled with a copy of the Bible, which in reality is incriminating evidence that the Mafia wants back in their hands. His parents and siblings all become collateral damage as he and the family friend, Gloria, bolt and attempt to get away. Gloria is part of the Mafia. She possesses street smarts and packs heat, unflinchingly firing upon her enemies in broad daylight, though no cops appear to be anywhere in sight. Like the interior of Marcellus Wallace’s suitcase in Quentin Tarantino’s Pulp Fiction (1994), this Bible proves to be a MacGuffin to keep Gloria and Phil on the run.

Initially, Gloria and Phil cannot stand one another, and the former appears to be reluctant to be saddled with the latter despite her promise to Phil’s parents to take care of him. Eventually, they grow on one another and, dare I say it, even develop a mutual affection. John Adames proves himself to be a capable actor though, to my knowledge, this is his sole screen credit. The film, despite reportedly being disparaged by its director (who probably would have been happy to completely recut it), is a showcase for its leading actress, who is always fascinating to watch.

Gloria was released on Blu-ray in August 2018 by Twilight Time and that pressing contained an isolated musical score. There is a new pressing of the film, this time by Kino Lorber, and the results are unspectacular. This is not a carp about Kino,since they always do a bang-up job on their Blu-ray releases. The film image is dark at times, especially in the beginning scenes in the apartment building (look fast for Tom Noonan as a Mafia soldier), and it looks as though it was transferred from a theatrical print, minus the reel-change cue marks. I am only assuming this to be the case (though I am probably incorrect), or perhaps this was how it was either photographed or developed as the liner notes are absent of the usual declaration boasting a high-definition transfer from the film’s original camera negative.

The only extras to speak of on this pressing are theatrical trailers for Gloria, Sidney Lumet’s Gloria remake from 1999, Gorky Park (1983), 52 Pick-Up (1986), Code of Silence (1985), Number One with a Bullet (1987), and Lonely are the Brave (1962).

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