TO LIVE AND DIE IN L.A.: 4K UHD Blu-ray (UA/SLM, New Century, 1985) Kino Lorber

William Friedkin’s directorial career was in the toilet in 1985, the year he made the perversely exhilarating thrill ride, To Live and Die in L.A. At the time, it was ill-received by the public and misperceived by the critics as Friedkin’s desperate attempt to get back his reputation as a one-time Hollywood heavy-hitter, more recently relegated to ‘has been’ status. And, its uneasy Miami Vice meets French Connection style, with a killer score from 80’s pop sensation Wang Chung, was virtually overlooked as superficial sheen rather than integral to the story. But was Friedkin’s flick just in bad taste or the recipient of bad-timed and lingering ill-will from the industry? Well, a little of both, actually. Based on Gerald Petievich’s novel (he shares a screenwriter’s credit with Friedkin), To Live and Die in L.A. is populated by ‘then’ largely unfamiliar faces: William Petersen as loose cannon/LA Secret Service counterfeiting specialist, Richard Chance, and Michael Greene (his more level-headed partner, Jimmy Hart).  Petersen was a Chicago stage actor at the time, with only a cameo in Thief (1981) to recommend him as this ego-driven/chest-thumping cop, determined to latch on to his pursuit of a career criminal like a pit bull clutching a juicy bone between its teeth.

While investigating counterfeiter, Rick Masters (Willem Dafoe), Hart gets murdered. And thus, Chance’s entrenched thirst for payback kicks into testosterone high gear. Problem: Chance is saddled with a ‘by-the-book’ new partner, John Vukovich (John Pankow). Flying under the radar, Chance exploits gal-pal, Ruth (Debra Feuer), pumping her, and then pumping her for information on Masters. Posing as corrupt doctors, Chance and Vukovich set up Masters to print $1 million in counterfeit bills. Masters wants $30,000 up front. Alas, the Secret Service will only cover $10,000. So, Chance comes up with an alternate plan: the result - a white-knuckled car chase to rank among the all-time greats in Bullitt (1968) Friedkin’s own French Connection (1971) and Ronin (1998). And while a great chase does not a great movie make, in the case of To Live and Die in L.A. it’s actually a fitting conclusion to the first act of this increasingly twisted heist caper.

Acting on intel from Ruth, Chance plans to intercept a $50,000 heist in stolen diamonds, using the cash to pay off Masters in order to nail him to the cross. The first part of his plan hits a major snag when the sellers discover the ruse and want their money back. Chance and Vukovich’s getaway quickly unravels into a spellbindingly ballsy vehicular chase, driving at top speeds the wrong way down a freeway at rush hour. The coordinated logistics and stunt doubles necessary to pull this full-scale feat off alone make this one of the most impressive chases in all film history. It took second-unit cameraman, Robert D. Yeoman six weeks to get it on film, skillfully assembled in the editing room by Scott Smith. Yet, as breathtaking as this moment is, its only a flicker of this flick’s brilliantly conceived modus operandi, more stylish in its nitty-gritty realism Friedkin employs to illustrate just how fakes are hand-crafted to fool all but the most critical in their devotion to expose them as such.

As virtual unknowns about to make names for themselves in the movies, William L. Petersen is rough around the edges, coarse yet clever – a real chip off the ole Steve McQueen, expertly counterbalanced by Willem Dafoe’s baddie – uber-unruffled and proficient. Dafoe is so perfectly cast here. He brings an infectious blend of disciplined articulateness to Masters’ near psychotic and fraying fecklessness. We can almost taste Chance’s venom for Masters. It’s that palpable. Without the badge, Chance would kill just as easily and without remorse as the evil incarnate he has set out to destroy. Chance’s obsessive need for retribution is nearest the Biblical precept granting ownership to vengeance.  Nothing would give Chance greater pleasure than to see Masters bleed out in a hailstorm of bullets; an apocalypse not dissimilar to the fate Masters could hope for Chance. So, it is not a stretch to appreciate Robby Müller’s stiflingly rich yet suffocating cinematography as an extension of this horrendous payback. Muller’s visuals authenticate this disturbingly distorted blood feud. The smog-laden exteriors are expertly offset by an even more morose ambience once inside the labyrinth of dimly lit nightclubs and solitary penthouses.

In an prologue too eerily to mirror reality, we are introduced to Messrs Chance and Hart after they have foiled an assassination attempt on President Ronald Reagan (John Hinkley tried it for real in 1981). Chance has a rep’ for irresponsible impetuosity. He’s also a dirty cop. On the flipside, Hart is relatively meek and just three days shy of retirement. Rather stupidly, Hart stakes out Eric ‘Rick’ Masters’ counterfeiting warehouse and pays for it with his life at the hands of Masters’ bodyguard, Jack (Jack Hoar). Chance pledges to his new partner, John Vukovich he will stop at nothing to bring Masters down. Chance puts Masters’ attorney, Max Waxman (Christopher Allport) under surveillance. But Vukovich nods off just as Masters arrives, murdering Waxman whom he suspects will double-cross him. Now, Chance gleans intel via the quid pro quo sexual-extortion of his parolee/informant, Ruth. Meanwhile, Vukovich attempts to flip Masters' new attorney, Bob Grimes (Dean Stockwell).

In reply, Grimes sets up the meeting between Chance and Vukovich, the two posing as doctors from Palm Springs, presumably to hire Masters for his counterfeiting services. Suspicious, Masters nevertheless agrees to produce $1 million in fake bills…for $30,000. As the Secret Service will not cover these expenses, Chance goads Vukovich to partake in the robbery of one Thomas Ling (Michael Chong). Unaware, Ling is actually FBI agent, Raymond Fong, Chance and Vukovich intercept Ling at Union Station. Only Ling's cover people, observing the robbery, open fire and accidentally kill Ling. Chance and Vukovich narrowly escape with their ill-gotten gains. Alas, the next day, Chance and Vukovich learn about Ling's real identity. Vukovich is overwrought with guilt but quite unable to persuade Chance to come clean about their involvement in Ling's death. Instead, Vukovich meets Grimes, who advises him to testify against Chance in exchange for a lighter sentence. Vukovich refuses to implicate his partner. In the meantime, Chance sets up Masters, who seems to be aware of the heist.

Chance and Vukovich meet with Masters for the exchange. Alas, the boys have been set-up by Grimes. Jack and Chance kill each other, leaving Masters to briefly escape with Vukovich in hot pursuit. Torching his warehouse to conceal the evidence, Masters knocks Vukovich unconscious. However, at the last possible moment, Vukovich comes around and shoots Masters, who was attempting to set him on fire. As Masters bleeds out, he is consumed by the flames. A short while later, Vukovich confronts Ruth as she hastily packs, presumably to leave L.A. for good. Informing Ruth of his knowledge of her complicity in their set-up, Vukovich now transgresses into precisely the sort of unscrupulous cop he once accused Chance of being.  Ruth will now work for him or face prison for her part in Masters' corruption. She has no choice but to comply. And so it goes. 

By now, it should be abundantly clear, To Live and Die in L.A. is not your run-of-the-mill actioner where the good guys at least wear white underwear while the evil-doers sneer with penetrating, bulging eyeballs affixed to some invisible horizon of greed and graft. In fact, Friedkin is more interested in the parallels between Masters and Chance than to suggest any sort of altruism vs. malevolence scenario cut from the Hollywood textbook on how to make a taut thriller. Masters enjoys his chosen profession. So, does Chance. Both are dirty - to a degree. That both just happen to be locked in a lethal game of cat and mouse is to everyone’s detriment…everyone, that is, except the audience. The price of doing business in a corrupt world is the loss of one’s soul. Again, biblical in nature…and utterly fascinating to behold. Unlike so many mid-80’s movie soundtracks, where the pop tunes are wedged into the plot as mere ‘product placement’, the pulsating score by Wang Chung in To Live and Die in L.A. is integral to this movie’s ability to create its all-encompassing, abject surrender and descend into the sad, seedy underbelly of the City of Angels.

Interestingly, Friedkin and Mueller have chosen no discernable ‘touristy’ landmarks to distinguish the city. The iconic abbreviation - ‘L.A.’ in the title is all that remains to denote our location; actually, South Central’s Slauson Ave., Nickerson Gardens in Watts, and San Luis Obispo’s state prison. To these obscure references, Friedkin adds the distinct taint and whiff of pretentiousness mannequins who populate this movie’s backdrop. We get gyms and strip clubs, typifying the superficial 80’s vision quest for all things ‘beautiful’ - if shallow in conspicuous consumer consumption. The anchors here are Chance and Masters, each, above it all; Chance, because he can’t afford the price of admission to the ‘beautiful people’ with ugly intent, but Masters, more stimulatingly, because he can, yet refuses to be enamored by Teflon-coated, but thoroughly repugnant human knickknacks – all that money can buy/all that a manufactured facsimile of ‘heaven’ will allow. Last, but certainly not least of all, look for another rising talent - John Turturro in his brief, but brilliant turn as Carl Cody - Master’s vulgar/deceitful cash mule. In a year dominated by more mainstream action flicks (Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome, Rambo: First Blood Part II, A View to a Kill, Red Sonja, The Jewel of the Nile, Commando, Rocky IV) To Live and Die in L.A. arguably was looking ahead to the silver age in darkly purposed crime capers like Heat and Se7en (both in 1995).

While most critics were quick in their praise (with a few notable dissenting opinions peppered in) as a ‘return to form’ for Friedkin, To Live and Die in L.A. did not send registers ringing around the world – the only calculous of success by Hollywood standards.  Viewed today, To Live and Die in L.A. is ingeniously bleak yet strangely alluring, its weirdly blended pop trends of their time grafted onto an intense and stylish actioner with guts. Friedkin delivers the goods well in advance of thrillers that would eventually come to represent ‘the norm’, but only by following his lead, treading where far too many, less ambitious pics have since gone, mercifully to their quick and disposable end. To Live and Die in L.A. deserves further reconsideration. Its ultra-sheen can be a tad overpowering. But the intensity in its performances, and Friedkin’s deft handling of action as an extension of, rather than appendage to the drama, makes it endlessly watchable in all its steely affectations for the saucy/glossy ‘good life’ turned asunder by bottom feeders and their lives devoted to crime.   

To Live and Die in L.A. gets a 4K release via Kino Lorber’s alliance with MGM, the current custodians of this UA/SLM/New Century production. Previously, MGM farmed out the standard Blu-ray honors to Shout! Factory in a rather listless 1080p transfer that was passable, but unremarkable. Kino’s new-to-Blu bests this effort in virtually all regards except one. MGM touts this as a ‘brand new’ 4K off an original camera negative with HDR/Dolby Vision to recommend the uptick in image quality. There is a perceivable uptick to be sure. Overall color density and saturation improves and fine details come to the forefront with a light smattering of film grain looking indigenous to its source. There’s also notable improvements to contrast. Whites are cleaner. Blacks are more velvety deep with zero crush. The Shout! Blu lacked grain and appears to have had some DNR applied to homogenize perceived imperfections. The disappointment: Kino ports over the identical 5.1 DTS and 2.0 theatrical lossless that were on the Shout! release. The 5.1 has some so-so ambience to recommend it, but the SFX still sound tinny and thin. This really could have used an Atmos mix. Alas, no upgrade there.

Apart from William Friedkin’s commentary – recorded some years ago – there are NO extras on the 4K disc. Mercifully, Kino includes a Blu-ray, also derived from this 4K scan. Not only do we get the audio commentary repeated, but there is over 2 hrs. of previously released bonus features to peruse. These include a 20 min. interview with William Petersen, 15 mins. with costar, Debra Feuer, and just under 10 mins. with bit player, Dwier Brown. Wang Chung weighs in on their contributions for 12 mins. while stunt coordinator, Buddy Joe Hooker takes a little over 30 mins. to unpack his contributions to the chase sequence. Finally, there is a half-hour ‘making of’, deleted/alternate scenes running just over 13mins., radio spots and a theatrical trailer. Bottom line: for fans – Kino’s new 4K definitely is the way to go. This 2-disc set is a no-brainer. Highly recommended.

FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)

4

VIDEO/AUDIO

4.5

EXTRAS

5+