In the film’s opening sequence, Michael Keneely (Gould) and Patrick Farrel (Blake) bust a high-end hooker named Jackie Faraday. Keneely is the smirking smartass while Farrel is the tough guy. These guys are a tad unorthodox as evident by the way a routine undercover assignment in a gay bar erupts into chaos when one guy (Fargas) gets too fresh with Keneely. The Faraday bust seems like a pretty open and shut case until their boss tells them that she got released thanks to a phone call from someone with juice.

Something about the hooker case doesn’t sit well with Keneely and when he checks out Faraday’s client book after it’s been entered into evidence he notices it’s missing all the pages with her clients. Naturally, the case is dismissed for lack of evidence and the two vice cops know something is rotten. They decide to pursue it further by digging deeper despite the opposition that mounts, including smug local crime boss Carl Rizzo (Garfield).

Elliott Gould and Robert Blake make an intriguing team with their contrasting acting styles. During the ‘70s, Gould epitomized disheveled cool and continues that look with the bushy mustache, unkempt hair and rumpled attire that he sported in Robert Altman’s M*A*S*H (1970). He adopts a laidback attitude and is always ready with a joke. Much like his take on Philip Marlowe in Altman’s The Long Goodbye (1973), Gould’s cop treats everything as a joke on the surface but underneath he cares about doing his job, especially when it comes to the corruption he and Farrel uncover. In contrast, Blake, with his tight t-shirts and muscular build, is all intensity and no bullshit attitude. They play well off each other and adopt a shorthand that makes them believable as long-time partners. They have a nice scene together in an empty bathroom where their characters reassess what they’re doing and if they should continue to pursue a case where the odds are clearly stacked against them.

Journeyman cinematographer/director Peter Hyams has had a checkered career with the unnecessary sequel 2010 (1984) and generic thrillers like The Presidio (1988) littering his filmography but Busting may be his best film. He does an excellent job juggling the shifting tones throughout, bouncing back and forth between comedy and drama. Hyams adopts long takes during the action sequences that are very effective and come across as refreshing in this day and age where action films are so heavily edited. For example, there is a sequence early where Keneely and Farrel chase three crooks through an apartment building, on the street and engage in a tense gun battle in a crowded farmer’s market that is comprised of a series of uninterrupted long takes. Unlike William Friedkin’s edgy hand-held camerawork in The French Connection, Hyams employs smooth, gliding tracking shots and yet still manages to convey an urgency and excitement during the action sequences. Hyams is one of those Hollywood filmmakers able to adapt to prevailing trends. With Busting, he made a gritty ‘70s buddy cop film and then more than 10 years later made the kind of buddy cop film that was popular in the 1980’s with Running Scared (1986).

Special Features:

Theatrical trailer.

Goro Hanada (Shishido) is a professional killer, a hitman who likes to sniff steamed rice. He’s ranked number three among killers and looking to make his way up to the top spot with a bullet but the competition is fierce. His world is turned upside down when he accidentally kills the wrong person on a job and becomes an outcast in his profession, much to the chagrin of his wife Mami (Ogawa) with whom he has a weird, psycho-sexual relationship. Hanada hooks up with Misako (Mari), a mysterious femme fatale with a dead butterfly fetish and whose future aspiration is to die (“I’m already a corpse anyway,” she says at one point).

Suzuki finds inventive ways to stage Hanada’s hits, like one rival, mortally wounded assassin who covers himself with his own jacket before expiring or when Hanada kills his target through a bathroom sink pipe (which was referenced in Jim Jarmusch’s Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai) or another shown mostly from his point-of-view.

Filmed in moody black and white, Branded to Kill is an atmospheric gangster film – the Japanese version of film noir with its extensive use of shadows and hard-boiled characters. The film starts off as a fairly standard crime film but as it progresses, Suzuki incorporates more and more unusual stylistic elements coupled with increasingly bizarre behavior by his characters that stretch the conventions of the genre. Branded to Kill is Japanese New Wave cinema at its most extreme with Suzuki flying in the face of the mainstream with his experimental tale of the rise and fall of an assassin.

Special Features:

There is an interview with director Seijun Suzuki and assistant director Masami Kuzuu about working on Branded to Kill. The studio had no projects so Suzuki and several of his screenwriting friends wrote a script that he shot. They talk about the casting of the actors and tell several filming anecdotes.

Actor Joe Shishido talks about how he had plastic surgery to further his career as a leading man. He is quite a character in this entertaining interview as he talks about his career.

Also included is a 1997 interview with Suzuki at a retrospective of his films. He talks about working for Nikkatsu. His solution to dealing with scripts that weren’t good enough was to make the final film, “fun and entertaining.”

Finally, there is a theatrical trailer.

Tetsuya Hondo (Watari) is a Japanese gangster trying to lead an honest life as the syndicate he belonged to dissolved itself and went legit. The only problem is that they borrowed money from their rival – Yoshii – and now they’ve come to collect. In the film’s striking washed out black and white prologue, Tetsu is beaten up by the Yoshii syndicate when he refuses to work for them, which, as it turns out, is a test to see if he’s actually gone legit. Out of loyalty to his former boxes, Tetsu decides to help him pay off the debt that is owed. However, complications arise when yet another rival syndicate kills Yoshii and takes over collecting the debt.

Tokyo Drifter has a striking ‘60s pop art look with a nightclub’s walls saturated in purple; a scene with a singer accompanied by a piano in a yellow room and is visited by a man in a red suit, while phones in various rooms in various places are primary colors. These vivid contrasts in color, coupled with the hep jazz soundtrack, make for a very unusual gangster film. Suzuki uses color and composition of the widescreen frame masterfully, like how he places his actors in a given frame.

Tetsuya Watari’s Tetsu is the epitome of ‘60s mod culture cool with his stylish suits, good looks and fashionable existential angst. It also doesn’t hurt that he’s pretty good with a gun. The pop art style that influenced Tokyo Drifter can also be seen in films like Modesty Blaise (1966) and In Like Flint (1967) but Suzuki’s film fearlessly pushes genre conventions further than either of these examples as he experimented with color and composition to a fascinating degree.

Special Features:

Director Seijun Suzuki and assistant director Masami Kuzuu are interviewed and reflect on making Tokyo Drifter. Suzuki saw the project as a “pop song movie.” The two men take us through the genesis of the film and talk about their approach to the look while sharing filming anecdotes.

Also included is a 1997 interview with Suzuki done in Los Angeles during a retrospective of his work. He speaks candidly about changing studios for more money. Suzuki also talks about his working methods. With Tokyo Drifter, he was under contract and obligated to make it in less than a month on a small budget. This is an interesting look at how genre films were made in ‘60s Japan.

Finally, there is a theatrical trailer.

Lauren (Amick) is a beautiful young woman who has recently married Paul Harrington (Lithgow), an older rich man. With the help of his eccentric cellmate (Edson), Reno Adams (Roberts) busts out of prison (disguised as guards no less) and seeks out Lauren, his wife and former partner in crime. Before you know it, Lauren finds herself in way over her head as Reno forces her to rob the bank Paul manages. Several plot twists and double-crosses ensue in typical neo-noir fashion.

John Lithgow is well-cast as the nice guy patsy caught under his new wife’s bewitching spell. Fresh from her breakout role in the television show Twin Peaks, Madchen Amick plays the leggy femme fatale with a knack for leading men astray. Cult character actor Richard Edson even has a small but memorable role as a hayseed idiot savant who broke out of prison with Reno. But the film belongs to Eric Roberts who absolutely oozes menace as the vengeful escaped convict. He has the juiciest role and enjoys sinking his teeth into it. As he demonstrated early on in his career with his chilling turn in Star 80 (1983), the actor excels at playing amoral sociopaths and he essays another one in Love, Cheat & Steal. Only a few minutes in and Reno has already escaped from prison, killed two guards and had sex with some guy’s girlfriend. Roberts is clearly having a blast with the stock bad guy role, even quoting Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining (1980) at one point, and instilling it with his own unique brand of crazy swagger and charisma.

This kind of film is a parlor game as it keeps us guessing as to what everyone’s true motive is, who is going to double-cross who, and that it will revolve around the planning and execution of a crime – in this case, a bank heist. In a film like Love, Cheat & Steal, everybody has their own agenda, the true nature of which is only revealed during the climactic scene. This is a decent enough neo-noir but is missing that special something to distinguish it from so many others, with the notable exception of Roberts’ scheming career criminal.

Special Features:

Theatrical trailer.

Al Hickey (Cosby) and Frank Boggs (Culp) are two downtrodden private investigators coasting through life until they are hired to find a missing woman. Hickey’s first lead ends with a dead body, killed by the woman who is also linked to an armed robbery, which is of interest to local mobster Mr. Brill (Mandan) and his right-hand man Ballard (Moriarty). As the film progresses, we learn more about the missing woman and her motivation, which propels the narrative and also adds a tragic dimension to the story. Hickey and Boggs start off not caring about anything but as their case progresses it becomes personal and they have something to fight for even if it is only revenge, which can only end in a bloody confrontation.

Walter Hill’s stripped-down screenplay gives us brief glimpses into Hickey and Boggs’ private lives. Hickey is estranged from his wife and kid while Boggs is an alcoholic who enjoys the company of prostitutes. Hill has always adhered to the less is more school of thought and Culp seems to understand this, complimenting the lean script with no-nonsense direction. Culp employs Hill’s trademark economy of style so well that Hickey & Boggs could be Hill’s long lost film. Yet, Culp still employs nice, little touches, like how Boggs always puts a paper bag that reads, “Out of Order” over every parking meter he leaves their car in front of.

For people that only know Bill Cosby as his cute and cuddly curmudgeonly dad in the 1980’s sitcom The Cosby Show, they will be in for quite a surprise with his turn in Hickey & Boggs as an all-business detective. He is especially effective in the last third of the film when his character takes a decidedly darker turn for the worse. Robert Culp is his ideal foil. Obviously, they had cultivated excellent chemistry with I Spy and this continues with Hickey & Boggs. They epitomize the world-weary private investigator but with a cynical ‘70s spin. These guys aren’t particularly noble – they have a job to get done and that’s it.

One of the hallmarks of a lot of crime films done in the ‘70s is the casting of actors that actually look and act like tough guys. Just think of the criminals that populate The Friends of Eddie Coyle (1973) or The Outfit (1973). Hickey & Boggs is no different with the trio of thugs that repeatedly cross paths with our two protagonists. They really look like guys that could mess you up without a moment’s hesitation. They exude natural menace, which enhances all of the scenes they’re in. Look close and you’ll spot character actors Vincent Gardenia, Michael Moriarty and a young, very geeky looking James Woods in key roles.

Hickey & Boggs is one of the more underrated detective films of the ‘70s but it deserves to be mentioned among the best of that era along with the likes of The Long Goodbye (1973) and Night Moves (1975). Much like those films, it takes the private investigator archetype and tears it down in a way that reflects how jaded and cynical people had become during that decade. For some time the film was hard to obtain on home video and then eventually surfaced on DVD with a horrible transfer. In recent years, a beautiful copy has shown up on MGM’s HD Channel and has now finally been released via their MOD DVD program with the same exquisite transfer. Do yourself a favor and check out this under-appreciated gem of a film.

Special Features:

None.

Frank Daly (Dennehy) is the leader of a tight-knit group of Los Angeles police officers as evident from the game of touch football they play together during their off hours. He is the elder statesman and is clearly getting too old for this shit, judging by how he falls asleep while taking a bath after the game. This group is so close that they even party together with their families, which offers a glimpse of Brian Dennehy’s hilariously awful dance moves. Wayne Gross (Pantoliano) is the abrasive one, Ricky Rodriguez (Fahey) is the good-looking one with a moral conscience (which gradually disappears once they all go rogue), and Howard Jones (Paxton) is the jokester.

At work, Frank orchestrates large drug busts that no one else is willing to touch. One night, he and his crew go after a drug operation run by Anthony Reece and that is hidden under a meat packing company front. However, they go in without a warrant or back-up much to the chagrin of their boss Captain Joe Torres (Darrow) who is tired of their screwball antics. Not surprisingly, Frank and his crew are suspended. Of course, they defy this and go after Reece, which, predictably ends badly for one of them. Now it’s personal with Frank and his guys making it their mission in life to take Reece down at all costs. So, they all quit and become vigilantes, robbing crooks to fund their own personal vendetta against Reece.

Much like To Live and Die in L.A. (1985), The Last of the Finest opts for an offbeat depiction of the city, avoiding the usual, traditional landmarks we’ve seen a million times before for a more authentic portrayal of the sections where these guys live and work while still showcasing the distinctive flavor of the town.

The Last of the Finest’s screenplay resembles an average T.V. cop show with very little characterization, cliché dialogue and plot turns you can see coming a mile away. And yet, at times the script does a nice job of capturing how these cops act and speak around each other, especially a close crew like these guys. The solid cast of actors does their best to make it work. It doesn’t hurt to have the likes of Brian Dennehy, Joe Pantoliano, Jeff Fahey, and Bill Paxton as a contemporary version of the Untouchables, a group of incorruptible cops that get the job done. Mackenzie provides workman-like direction right out of T.V. but fortunately the cinematography elevates it. At the end of the day, this film has its heart in the right place but is a little too generic in parts for its own good. It is saved from being merely direct to home video fare by the impressive cast who go a long way to making it watchable.

Special Features:

Theatrical trailer.

Early on, the voiceover narration establishes the tone of this film as it solemnly intones, “These are not dangerous revolutionaries in a beleaguered city under marshal law. These are teenagers on the Sunset Strip … Irresponsible, wild, beat, protest youths with nowhere to go, nothing to do, no goal in life.” An elderly gentleman walking along the Strip complains to a police officer about “the riff-raff” and wants something done about it. Cut to a garage band in a nightclub jamming out to a protest song of some sort about how they are being harassed by The Man because they’ve got long hair. “What to do about the youth problem?” asks the omniscient narrator.

We meet good girl Andy (Farmer) with her huge 1960’s hair (see Amy Winehouse) and new to a school where several of her classmates convince her (against her better judgment) to go with them to Pandora’s Box, a hep club on the Strip. The club scenes feature groovy garage bands and lingering shots of girls in tight-fitting tops and dresses. The music, provided by the likes The Standells, the Chocolate Watchband and The Enemies, is responsible for the film’s minor cult status.

The cops routinely bust longhairs for smoking pot and we see parents bailing their children out of jail with one irate mother admonishing her two daughters, “Look at you two. Compared to you Dracula looked like a fairy princess!” Of course, Andy and her friends get busted by the cops when the leave the club after curfew. They’re hauled into the local police station where we find out that Andy’s estranged father is watch officer Walter Lorimer (Ray). Uh oh! Andy’s a good kid who’s just fallen in with the wrong crowd who really aren’t all that bad. Too bad her mother is a shrieking harpy and a drunk.

Riot on the Sunset Strip features hilariously dated “hip” dialogue loaded with words like “groovy” and “boss.” Like most juvenile delinquent films made after the 1950’s, this one lives in the shadow of Rebel Without A Cause (1955), the Citizen Kane (1941) of J.D. films. Riot on the Sunset Strip is the kind of exploitation film that struck fear in the hearts of square parents afraid that their sons or daughters were being corrupted by hippies. The film documents the never-ending generation gap as parents have no clue what their kids are doing or why. Interestingly, there is a scene where the storeowners on the Strip argue over what is to be done about these wild youths with the older merchants butting heads with the club owners and Walt sticking up for the kids. This film is an amusing snapshot of the times in which it was made with a ripped from the headlines story.

Special Features:

None.

The film is a character study of sorts about a cold-hearted assassin who grew up as a bandit named Salvatore Giordano (Silva) in Sicily during World War II. As a boy, he watched helplessly as his mother was gunned down by Nazi soldiers. Then, many years later, we see him get gunned down by Italian government soldiers – only his death was faked by a big-time Mafioso in Rome. He sends the newly dubbed Johnny Cool to the United States to kill all of the people who betrayed him. The crime boss reinvents Johnny completely: how he dresses, acts, talks, and so on. He also transforms the man into an efficient killing machine.

Johnny is tasked to bring down rival crime boss Vincenzo Santangelo played with suave menace by Telly Savalas. While impressing New York City mobsters, Johnny catches the eye of a high-end socialite named Darien Guinness (Montgomery) but he rebuffs her advances initially: “You don’t really care if you know me or not, do you?” she says, to which he replies, “Honey, I’m not buying.” She counters, “You couldn’t!” while he tells her, “Then it’s easy. Just forget it.” Undaunted, she pursues him and they begin a love affair.

Known mostly for playing villains and countless supporting roles, it’s great to see Henry Silva as the protagonist in a film for a change. Based on his work in Johnny Cool, it’s a shame he didn’t get more opportunities to do so. Silva carries himself with a cool confidence and looseness befitting the Rat Pack vibe of the film. He plays Johnny as a tough customer not above walking into a Mob-controlled racket and robbing them of their money while joking about it. Silva looks like he’s having a blast in this role.

For fans of Bewitched, this film may come as something of a surprise as we see Elizabeth Montgomery in a rare dramatic role, which she pulls off quite convincingly. Of particular note is harrowing scene where she’s beaten by a pair of overzealous police detectives (one played by Joe Turkel no less). She also has a nice scene with Silva where Darien bares her soul to Johnny.

Johnny Cool’s tale of single-minded vengeance features the systematic takedown of a crime syndicate with several audacious assassinations: one target is shot and killed in a crowded train station; another is killed in his swimming pool with a briefcase bomb; and Johnny dispatches another one in his office posing as a window washer. His mission is reminiscent of Lee Marvin’s in Point Blank (1967) only without the artsy experimentation. William Asher employs strictly meat and potatoes filmmaking much like what John Flynn would do later with The Outfit (1973) and ends on a surprisingly nihilistic note as Johnny is betrayed and doomed to a nasty fate worthy of a noir protagonist.

Special Features:

Theatrical trailer.

Set on the gritty streets of New York City, Laws of Gravity is about the relationship between two friends – Jimmy (Greene) and Jon (Trese), two small-time crooks that deal in stolen goods. Jimmy is the responsible one while Jon is the wild card always getting into trouble. When we meet them, Jon has skipped out on his court date for a shoplifting charge because he didn’t feel like showing up. Naturally, this doesn’t sit well with his girlfriend Celia (Field). Jimmy has problems of his own – he owes a sizable chunk of money to local tough guy Sal (Stein) who’s breathing down his neck. As luck would have it, Jimmy and Jon’s friend Frankie (Schulze) rolls back into town with a bunch of guns he wants to sell. Jon and Jimmy see this as an opportunity to make some fast, easy money but of course it doesn’t go as well as they planned. As Jon’s behavior gets increasingly erratic, Jimmy has to make a decision whether to stick by his friend and risk his future or cut him loose and focus on his own problems.

Gomez does a good job showing how a good-natured conversation can turn into a shouting match when Jon gets annoyed with Celia’s nagging criticisms. The dialogue and the way the scene is shot – cinema verite style – feels like we are intruding on an intimate conversation between real people. Gomez employs a restless hand-held camera, which replicates Jon’s anxious energy. He’s a schemer always looking to make some easy money and doesn’t care about who he pisses off.

Based on his solid work in Laws of Gravity, it’s amazing that Peter Greene isn’t a bigger star. He has had small but memorable parts in classic films like Pulp Fiction (1994) and The Usual Suspects (1995) but nothing as substantial as Laws of Gravity (although, there is his startling turn in the little seen Clean, Shaven). He has natural charisma and brings an authenticity to the role of Jimmy that is impressive to watch. This was also an early role for Edie Falco and she demonstrates considerable acting chops. It is easy to see why she has become such an accomplished actress.

Jimmy and Jon are constantly roaming the streets pulling petty crimes like shoplifting but to what end? They get into arguments that break into fights where nobody wins. These guys seem to have little aspirations and are content to live in the moment. Laws of Gravity is a fascinating slice of life look at people just trying to get by any way they can. It depicts the unstable relationship between two men and how it affects their friends and family. Gomez really captures how people from this social strata speak and act. His film is an under-appreciated gem waiting to be discovered and will hopefully find new life thanks to MGM’s MOD program.

Special Features:

Theatrical trailer.

The film takes a gritty look at Toronto’s criminal underworld where girls come over from Russia and are forced to become strippers and prostitutes. These girls are threatened, bulled and stripped of their humanity – not the most uplifting subject matter. The beautiful Karma infiltrates a Russian owned strip club as, what else, an exotic dancer, which allows Bechard to show off her considerable assets. Karma uses her sexy looks to work her way through the organization, systematically killing those responsible for her sister’s murder.

The decision to make Karma a mute avenger is certainly one way to get around Shera Bechard’s limitations as an actress but certainly isn’t an original idea as Abel Ferrara’s gritty revenge film Ms. 45 (1981) already played around with this concept. Sweet Karma basically fuses Ferrara’s film with Eastern Promises. For a first time actress, Bechard is not too bad. She certainly has a screen presence and can emote when required. In a nice touch, Karma doesn’t suddenly become an unrealistic killing machine in the action sequences. They are messy and realistic with a kinetic rhythm that comes from hand-held camerawork. The cheap digital camerawork also adds to the scuzzy vibe of the film. In addition, the cast of completely unknown actors enhances the film’s low rent authenticity.

Sweet Karma doesn’t end in a redemptive bloodbath that it seems to be heading towards but rather ends on a surprisingly contemplative (sort of) note, which is kind of refreshing.

Special Features:

Theatrical trailer.