The Warriors (1979)

Starring: Michael Beck and James Remar
Grade: A-

Am I alone in saying Cochise is my favorite member of the Warriors? He’s too cool.

Summary

In New York City, Cyrus (Roger Hill), the leader of the Gramercy Riffs, calls for a special summit at midnight at Van Cortlandt Park in The Bronx and invites all the rival gangs in the city to it. He requests nine unarmed delegates to appear before him. Cleon (Dorsey Wright) is the leader or “warlord” of the Warriors. He confirms to the others that the summit is still on, as Cyrus sent an emissary that afternoon to tell them. Cyrus doesn’t want anyone packed or anyone flexing any muscle. Cleon gave Cyrus his word that the Warriors will uphold this truce. With this, the gang gets on the subway. The rest of the group consists of the second-in-command “war chief” Swan (Beck), enforcer Ajax (Remar), scout Fox (Thomas G. Waites), graffiti artist Rembrandt (Marcelino Sánchez), Snow (Brian Tyler), Vermin (Terry Michos), Cowboy (Tom McKitterick), and Cochise (David Harris). On the way, we cut to random conversations between members of the group like Swan expressing his concern because they’ve never been to The Bronx but Cleon assuring him this conclave is going to be a real big item and every gang in the city is going to be there. Cochise talks about going in there with nothing, but Snow reminds him it’s the same for everyone. Rembrandt confirms he has spray paint when Cleon asks, so Cleon tells him to tag everything in sight on the way to let everyone know the Warriors were there. Cowboy is concerned about not being able to hide because they’re wearing their colors out there, but Vermin asks, “Who wants to hide?”. Next, Ajax is excited about potentially kicking some ass on the way there, but Cleon shut this down right away. Then, Swan tells Rembrandt to stay close by, and he’s cool with it. Ajax tells Vermin there’s a chance they get some pussy, Cowboy asks Cochise what he knows about Cyrus (“Magic, a whole lot of magic.”), Rembrandt referring to Cyrus as the “one and only”, and Cochise telling Ajax that Cyrus is president of the biggest gang in the city and he doesn’t have to take any shit. Of course, Ajax responds, “Ah fuck him”. Lastly, Ajax doesn’t think anyone’s going to be there. Naturally, he’s wrong.

All the major gangs are there, and its shoulder-to-shoulder, standing room only.

Pointing out the number of people who came, Cyrus gets the attention of everyone by talking about how the future is theirs if they can count. For an example, he talks about the miracle of the Saracens, Jones Street Boys, the Moonrunners, and the Van Courtland Rangers standing next to each other without things turning into violence. Next, he brings up how there are 9 delegates from 100 gangs, there are 100 more, and how this equals to about 20,000 hardcore members and 40,000 counting affiliates, along with 20,000 more not organized but “ready to fight”. He sees it as 60,000 soldiers. Since there may only be 20,000 police officers in the whole town, he asks, “Can you dig it? Can you dig it? Can you dig it?!”. The crowd cheers, realizing what he’s saying. Cyrus goes on talking about how one gang can run this city. Nothing would move without them allowing it to happen. They could tax the crime syndicates and the police because they run the streets. As the crowd cheers to another “Can you dig it?” call to arms, police cars are discreetly driving up to the park unbeknownst to them. Cyrus continues by talking about how the man has turned them against one another, and they haven’t been able to see the truth because they’ve been fighting for 10 square feet of ground. All they have to do is keep the general truce, take over one borough at a time, and secure their territory/turf because it’s all “our turf”. As the crowd goes nuts, Fox goes down a few rows to get a closer look. No one notices, but a gun is passed around among the Rogues and given straight to the leader, Luther (David Patrick Kelly). He shoots and kills Cyrus, and everyone starts to run in different directions, except Scout. He sees Luther, and Luther turns and smiles at him. He points his gun at him, but the lights of the park are turned on by the cops. It distracts Luther and Scout is able to run with the others. Cleon tries to direct the Warriors to stay low and get out of there while he walks over to take a look at Cyrus. Luther screams for attention and tells everyone near that Cleon shot Cyrus and the Warriors are responsible. Cleon denies it, and Luther runs straight at Cleon who quickly takes him down. The Rogues attack Cleon, but he’s able to fend them off until the Riffs join because they believe Luther. Every member beats down Cleon until he’s dead.

Amidst the chaos and the cops moving in on everyone, the rest of the Warriors escape and hide in a cemetery. Once the cops drive past, the group collects themselves and establish the basics. They know Cleon is down, so Swan tells Rembrandt to look around to make sure they’re okay. Taking the lead, Swan says they’re going back to Coney Island, which Vermin isn’t too happy about because of how far it is from there. Cochise mentions how every cop in the city will be looking for them, and Snow wonders if the truce is still on. If it isn’t, they’ll have to “bop” their way back and fight through all the rival gangs. Cowboy reminds them they have no weapons. Even so, this is the only way. Swan tells them that if they are separated to make it to the platform at Union Square. That’s where they change trains. Ajax questions why Swan is the leader because he has as much of an argument to take over as he does, but Fox reminds Ajax that Swan is war chief and Cleon’s choice. Ajax doesn’t care and wants to be warlord, so Swan dares him to make a move. Cowboy, Vermin, and Cochise calm things down because they know they have to stick together now more than ever. Just then, Rembrandt shouts to them that the subway train is coming, and they need to go, so they all follow Swan. As they exit the graveyard, Swan has Rembrandt “mark the spot”, so he tags a gravestone with the “W” that represents the Warriors. In the building where the Riffs hangout, they all stand like soldiers while the sunglasses-wearing, Deion Sanders lookalike Masai (Edward Sewer) asks them all who the Warriors are. After he gets no response, he tells the group he wants all of them. He wants them alive if possible. If not, he wants them wasted. The Riffs relay the message to a radio DJ (Lynne Thigpen). In-between songs, she sends out a message from them, naming the Warriors directly and playing a song just for them. It’s the aptly named “Nowhere to Run”.

With this, word gets out and the Warriors are going to be chased by every gang in the city on their way back to Coney Island.

Can they make it, or will they all be hunted down like dogs?

My Thoughts:

The Warriors is the epitome of the term cult classic. It’s not the most normal production and surely isn’t something that would be critically praised for its script or character depth, but there is something about the movie that cannot be denied. Conceptually, it’s a completely different film than what a mainstream audience is used to. Boiling it down to its bare essentials, it’s filmmaker Walter Hill enjoying the world he has created, adding elements the way his imagination sees fit and to explore every inch of his world further. Despite Hollywood backing and distribution, it’s reckless in its approach and doesn’t try to be nice or vulnerable like a regular Hollywood production. Actually, it’s one of the very few gang movies that doesn’t present this criminal lifestyle as a social problem in need of fixing. It’s low budget, it’s down and dirty, and there is no desire to pander to those who want a message. There is practically a refusal to consider the notion of some type of redemptive arc, doubling down in the scene when they finally make it to the train on the way to Coney Island. The exhausted gang members sit in silence, with some even sleeping, and a disheveled Mercy sits alongside a beaten-up Swan. Two happy couples smiling and dressed all nice enter the train, and they make eye contact with the toxic contrast of Swan and Mercy’s forbidden romance. They are complete opposites, and they can tell Swan and Mercy have been through hell because they look it. The couples stop smiling because of it. Mercy tries to brush her hair out of the way, but Swan stops her as if to tell the viewing audience to take the film as it is or leave it. They aren’t changing for anyone. This is The Warriors in a nutshell. The entire movie embodies this “Fuck you” attitude and is a great representation of the criminal lifestyle all the characters revel in. It’s not without faults, but it’s an unforgettable watch.

Basically, The Warriors is just about a small gang from Coney Island fighting off other gangs in a race across New York City. Criminality is their livelihood. Rembrandt tagging a tombstone with the “W” is considered a positive, and we cheer it on because we are led by the Warriors and their goals as a gang. Nothing else matters. In fact, no other citizens (with the exception of Mercy and faceless cops) are involved in the movie. All the focus is on gang life, the individual personalities involved within it, and what destructive shit they want to do. The characters are genuine assholes, there are brutal brawls left and right, there’s despicable behavior even from the team we are rooting for, it’s gritty, its counterculture, and it’s exactly the antiestablishment 1970s badass-like production that is so far in its grimy and unapologetic direction that it’s endearing. It’s pure commitment, and it has this vibe about it that very few movies have. Despite there only being one movie and no sequels, there is this long-standing legacy that the movie has because of this culture that stems from it. It’s one of those movies that inspires you and your friends because you want to be a part of a friend group as cool as the Warriors. It’s the camaraderie, the insignia and attire of all the different gangs, it’s the comic book atmosphere that they have turned New York into to make these street gangs look like they run the night and have turned the city into a Mad Max-like, post-apocalyptic war zone without a nuclear holocaust preceding it. It’s unbridled insanity in a brief hour and a half running time, with the story taking place from midnight to sunrise, and its pure chaos. There’s nothing like it. From a technical standpoint, there are so many things done wrong, but it doesn’t stop the film from setting up camp in your subconscious for a lifetime.

The narrative is as simple as it gets. There aren’t any nuances to it or subplots other than when Mercy gets involved or when the group is separated, but it doesn’t amount to much anyway. All of it is just about facing different gangs at different points of the night and barely scraping by. It’s all visual entertainment. It’s the nighttime vibes of different areas of New York, it’s the grittiness of the subway trains, and it’s the underground feel to every scene, helping us understand things from the perspective of a street gang and enjoying every second of it. The characters don’t have much depth either. Their characterizations can be explained in a single sentence. Besides the two strongest personalities in Swan and Ajax, the only way we can differentiate the rest of them is by the way they look. In any regular movie, this would make your eyes roll, but that’s the thing. The Warriors isn’t a regular movie. For some reason, the presentation is so invigorating and weird that the screenplay’s stripped-down qualities actually works to its advantage. The dialogue is as stilted as they say, their conversations do get awkward because of how poorly they are done, and no, it’s not realistic. For God sake’s, they have a gang dressed like mimes and another baseball-themed gang called The Baseball Furies who dress like baseball players, paint their faces, and carry bats! I don’t think they were going for realism! Though there are a lot of deserved and acknowledged criticisms, it cannot be stressed enough that there are still plenty of reasons to watch this movie. It just has this aforementioned endearing quality in spite of the obvious technical things they do wrong. Plus, the world-building involved in the first fifteen minutes establish that this is an entirely different New York in which these gangs run the place at night. It’s done early in an effort to force the viewer to suspend their disbelief for this story, and I would argue that it’s excellently done. It brings out this aura that is inexplicable, and it continues to surround the outrageous course of events throughout. With the combination of music, the story’s roughneck style, and general unpredictability, the viewer is locked into the action and want to see it through. It’s a stylized, comic book-like take on street gang culture, it’s unbelievably fun, deliciously over-the-top, and a great showcase of the landscape of New York in the 1970s.

Going along with how the movie doesn’t try to talk at the audience to make sure they know the criminal lifestyle is bad, we see the beginning of a toxic romance between war chief Swan and the tough-minded and argumentative Mercy. It’s an added stress to the movie that is completely avoidable, but it allows for the viewer to see somewhat of a different side of Swan, who keeps a heavy guard up all the way to the very end. Why does Mercy (or “trouble” as it’s said upon her introduction) follow the Warriors when she could have stayed home? I have no idea. Her inclusion is poorly handled, and she comes off as some girl from The Bronx who just wants trouble and wants to date a gang member. Funnily enough, there is some realism to that sort of character, though Mercy doesn’t really have any redeemable values other than the fact that she tries to show her softer side to get Swan to warm up to her. It takes a while to get her there though. She’s not even involved in the conversation between the leader of one of the “minor league teams” in the Orphans when they speak to the Warriors, but she is the one who starts making chicken noises at them and butts in asking for the Warriors’ vest. After daring them to slap her, she instigates further by telling the Orphans they’re just letting a gang go through their territory untouched. After the Warriors make it known they aren’t backing down to the Orphans or hide who they are “because some whore shakes her ass”, they leave. Unprompted, Mercy follows them on her own accord and talks shit to them. Ajax grabs Mercy and threatens to rape her by the time the other guys show up. Swan stops this from happening but then he threatens to run a train on her, though he adds that she would probably “like it”. Now at this point, anyone would have run away, but for some reason, Mercy stays. When she has yet another opportunity to check out after the Warriors escape the Orphans attack through the distraction of a Molotov cocktail in an awesome scene, Swan grabs Mercy and they run to the subway with the others.

And just like that, a beautiful romance begins? No, it’s the romance of a gang member and his toxic girl who is attracted to danger and unsavory characters. Actually, this is kind of realistic, even if her character development is poorly done.

Even so, she’s hooked by this point in the movie. She narrowly escapes the cops and catches up to Swan following Fox’s death and basically attaches herself to his hip while acting like she doesn’t care about anything. It’s Mercy who works hard at trying to win him over by telling Swan she can show him what train to grab at Union Square. Together, they began their own little adventure after being chased by the cops at the station, forcing them to run onto the tracks. Following this, their burgeoning relationship makes less and less sense because of how little Swan gives her and how annoying she gets because of it. At most, it can be chalked up to just animal attraction between two deplorable people because it’s the only way it can be justified. She’s complaining about being tired and has the audacity to ask what Swan’s hurry is, knowing they are being chased and attacked by hundreds of people and the cops. Then, she tries to flirt and gives us the only motivation she has for following Swan after learning his name in, “I like telling my friends I’ve been with somebody particular. Know what I mean?”. It’s like, “That’s it?”. She really is a whore, and he calls her out on it. To add to their awfulness together, Swan looks past Mercy and talks about how he’s hoping to run into something better. She defends herself by saying she wants something now and how this is the life she lives, and SOMEHOW, this leads to them kissing. She becomes floored with him from then on, despite the fact that he stops it, tells her to go back to wherever she came from, and they keep moving. Huh? Admittedly, what they try to do with these two is undoubtedly the worst part of the movie, mostly because of how illogical it is. I will concede that I liked the smile Swan cracked when he considers leaving Coney Island once they get there and he’s underwhelmed by the sight of it, and Mercy comments how she’s never traveled but would enjoy coming with him. He really tried to fight it.

For a movie all about fighting, the fight choreography is okay at best and horrendous at worst. Though a lot of cool things around the gang members are destroyed like in the bathroom at the subway scene and the usage of slow motion is great, a majority of the hand-to-hand combat is awful. As much as we like talking about the Baseball Furies, the fight sequence between them and the Warriors was legitimately terrible. They practically use the bats as if they are swords and their reaction to certain moves are slow, illogical, and seemed to be made up by people who have never been in a fight before nor seen one. It made no sense for the Baseball Furies to lose that badly either when they were the ones who intimidated Ajax of all people, and they were the only ones with weapons. Nostalgia may blind us to certain elements of The Warriors, but make no mistake about it, a lot the brawls are deeply underwhelming. Despite the awesome riot sequence and the blocking done for it in the beginning of the movie, the subsequent moment when Cleon is taken out by a group of 20 people following the shooting is horribly done with everyone spamming the same elbow attack. The chase sequences are exciting though, with the cops chasing them at the 96th stop being a great example of how to get the viewer’s blood-pumping in an instant. On this note, the cardio on the actors playing the Warriors, especially Michael Beck, is certifiably insane. If anything, these guys are more runners than actors. Just watch them getting chased on the street by the truck containing the skinhead Turnball ACs on their way to the subway. It’s a display of sprinting that would make Tom Cruise jealous.

Again, it’s the over-the-top nature of The Warriors that adds to its legend. The biggest example of this philosophy is the villain in Luther. David Patrick Kelly practically explodes with his portrayal of the whiny-voiced nuisance to society and is yet another piece of shit in a movie filled with them, with no redeemable qualities and no motivation to act the way he does. He rides with his crew in his vandalized car and lives to cause trouble (“What about the money you owe?”; “FOR WHAT?!”). When Luther faces off against Swan in the climax on the beach at Coney Island, and Swan finally asks why he wasted Cyrus, the insane Luther just smiles deviously responding, “No reason. I just like doing things like that”. It’s practically comical at times with how little of depth some of these characters have, but that’s the culture that comes with a movie as unique as The Warriors. One thing is for sure though, it won’t be winning any screenplay contests anytime soon. With that being said, a special shoutout goes to David Patrick Kelly for coming up with one of the most iconic scenes of all time. Apparently, director Walter Hill didn’t like the script’s idea for how Luther taunts the Warriors before the climax, so he asked for Kelly to come up with some ideas. After his first suggestion of two dead pigeons was turned down (a shame really), he went under the boardwalk and found some beer bottles. Then, he clinked the bottles together and ad-libbed the legendary line of, “Warriors, come out to play” to Hill when he asked what he came up with. Loving it, they shot it right after. It’s incredible how improvisation and a collective team effort can result in something so amazing and seemingly out of thin air. Another big part of The Warriors‘s enduring legacy is because of its imagination involving each wildly different gang, from the all-female Lizzies (resulting in one of the best action sequences of the film), to the aforementioned Baseball Furies (who’s leader runs like a girl I might add), to the intimidation tactics of the roller-skating gang, to the black militants Riffs. The sequences in the Riffs’ compound, where the leader in Masai is told about the progress of the Warriors, with him just staring ahead in his mirrored sunglasses, were such coo aesthetic choices to show how different they are from the others and why they are the most powerful gang in New York. When they pop up on the beach at Coney Island, you could tell the Warriors were shitting their pants but trying to keep a brave face.

Even I couldn’t believe Swan still trying to act tough with his response of “You still looking for us?” when they know they aren’t guilty of anything and should be trying to parlay to explain themselves. A good majority of the decisions made by these characters is because they can’t have their gangster be tested in any way. No ego hits are allowed, and it’s fitting of a young group of men in a gang. It’s literally the only reason the Orphans make things an issue when the Warriors wanted to parlay, and how Swan says “Fuck you” to the leader when asked to take off their vests when they walk through the territory. When the Turnball ACs narrowly catch the Warriors, Ajax still turns around to flip them off to let them know he isn’t scared. They have to act tough at all times, and the same can be said with how they react to all the women in the movie. I guess that’s gang culture.

The funniest moment of the movie (other than Swan throwing a bat at that cop’s shins in slow-motion) had to have been when the Warriors go into the bathroom to prepare to fight the roller-skating gang. They take Mercy with them, and she says she can’t because it’s a men’s room. Vermin’s response of, “Are you kidding” before they pull her in was hysterical. It’s like after all they’ve been through and all the illegal shit they’ve done, this is where you draw the line? There’s that and Mercy telling Swan of the group stalking him, and Swan angrily telling her knows, but he was trying to play coy up until that point, so he could surprise them when the time is right. She just couldn’t win with him.

Swan’s words at the beginning set up the whole film:

“When we get there, that’s when we’ve made it”.

By the time we see the famous Wonder Wheel at sunrise when our favorite team reaches Coney Island, it’s a serene sight that is hard to explain. There’s this inkling of hope. In the finish, the DJ apologizes over one of the biggest misunderstands ever, with a simple “Sorry about that” before playing Joe Walsh’s “In the City” as a response, and the group walks the beach. However, this sequence just can’t help but put a smile on your face. Finally, life is looking up and we feel alright. It’s a perfect depiction of Coney Island, happiness, and a sunny sky that makes you feel like a kid with hope for the future again. If you see it, you’ll know exactly what I mean. It makes the entire journey worth it.

As crazy as it sounds, gang warfare has never been this much fun. The Warriors will always be hampered by its basic and rough-around-the-edges dialogue, its broad characterizations, its lack of depth, and a romantic subplot that makes no sense, but it’s still an inexplicable cinematic delight. With visual flare, over-the-top elements that work, an unafraid approach to be bold, a great soundtrack, creativity from its blood print title graphic to its cinematography, some great camera work, and a cool culture that surrounds it, The Warriors is still worth the watch despite its known faults.

Fun Fact: Sigourney Weaver was originally considered for a role and director Walter Hill watched a movie she starred in called Madman. Michael Beck was in it, and that’s how he got the part. The filmmakers wanted Tony Danza for Vermin, but he ended up being cast in Taxi.