Published via Ecency

(source: tmdb.org)

Bravery is in short supply in today’s Hollywood, though it is sorely needed. It was needed even in the 1970s, in a much more open-minded and permissive age, when big studios used to try new things and break all kinds of taboos. Some lines even then were more difficult to cross than others, and one such example was the adaptation of Brian Garfield’s novel that would ultimately become Death Wish, the 1974 crime thriller directed by Michael Winner. Made only after many studios, actors and directors washed their hands of it, it turned out to be one of the most controversial films of its time, but also popular enough to turn Charles Bronson into a major star and spawn a series that would always be associated with that actor.

In the film, Bronson plays Paul Kersey, a mild-mannered and relatively affluent New York architect who, like many members of the upper-middle class, adopted a liberal world view and considers rampant street crime in the city to be a product of economic inequality best solved through welfare rather than policing. Kersey considers himself a man of peace and lived by those principles during the Korean War, serving in the US Army as a conscientious objector. Everything changes when a group of street thugs invades his apartment, murders his wife Joanna (played by Hope Lange) and rapes his daughter Carol (played by Kathleen Tolan) in a way that leaves her catatonic. Kersey is devastated by the news and later grows increasingly frustrated with the police’s apparent inability to bring the perpetrators to justice. His firm sends him to Tucson, Arizona to oversee an important building project, and there he befriends the client, local businessman and gun enthusiast Ames Jainchill (played by Stuart Margolin), who gives him a revolver as a symbolic token of appreciation for his service. One night, Kersey, armed with the revolver, goes out onto the street in an attempt to lure muggers and deliver his own brand of vigilante justice. This expedition results in the death of one mugger, and when such incidents repeat, New York police Lieutenant Ochoa (played by Vincent Gardenia) begins investigating. This task grows increasingly difficult because the New York public, sick and tired of street crime, considers the mysterious night vigilante a hero.

Just like Dirty Harry three years earlier, this film was viciously attacked by critics (most of whom held the same liberal or left-of-centre views as Kersey at the beginning) for allegedly promoting fascism and/or violence as the simplest and most effective solution to complex social problems. In the case of Death Wish, such criticism seemed even more justified because the protagonist, unlike Dirty Harry, is not a policeman with legal authority to carry and use a gun, but an ordinary citizen who takes the law into his own hands and even goes about randomly cleaning the city of “undesirables”. Such a protagonist, however, looked like someone sorely needed to large segments of the 1970s audience, at least those living in big cities faced with an explosion of crime and violence that the police and courts were unable or unwilling to stop. Death Wish offered an alternative in the form of an ordinary citizen who struck back and gave street thugs at least some of their own medicine. The film thus became extremely popular and Paul Kersey later turned into the most iconic role in Charles Bronson’s career.

While many accepted the critics’ complaints about the film, including Brian Garfield, who tried to distance himself from it as much as possible, Death Wish is far from a simplistic and one-sided celebration of vigilantism. The script by Wendell Mays is actually much more nuanced and offers the audience different interpretations and ways to judge the protagonist and his actions. Paul Kersey does not start as a bloodthirsty vigilante; the path to that point is very gradual and, in fact, quite realistic. It takes time for Kersey to change from a self-righteous urban liberal into a street avenger, and even after he begins his nighttime crusade, part of his old self is visible in brief moments of self-doubt or very human and believable reactions to his first kill. The script very intelligently hints that Kersey’s actions might be motivated both by revenge against the street scum and, as the title suggests, a wish to cope with the unbearable loss of his family by seeking violent death himself. Mays’ script also takes a very realistic approach: the trio of thugs who destroyed Kersey’s family (with Jeff Goldblum playing their leader in his first film role) disappears from the film never to be heard again and, presumably, remains unpunished for their crime. The script also adds a further dose of realism by portraying how the public and authorities would react to a vigilante roaming the city streets. This allows for an interesting twist near the end, when Lieutenant Ochoa, who is portrayed as a capable, intelligent and methodical detective, shares his superiors’ view that actually following the law in the case of Paul Kersey would do more harm than good.

Whether you believe that Death Wish promotes vigilantism or not, it is still a very good film. Michael Winner, the British director and Bronson’s close friend, keeps a quick pace without sacrificing plot or characterisation. His direction is especially effective in the action scenes, where violence happens quickly and realistically, without cheap one-liners or melodrama. Even the graphic and disturbing rape scene at the beginning is directed in a way that does not look too exploitative. There are some minor problems with the script, especially with the scenes showing the psychological descent of Kersey’s daughter and the somewhat underwritten character of Kersey’s son-in-law (played by Steve Keats). Herbie Hancock’s soundtrack, on the other hand, is not particularly attractive but, in a way, goes hand in hand with the images of run-down, dirty, graffiti-plagued streets of 1970s New York.

The biggest flaw of the film is, somewhat ironically, its star. Although it is not his fault. By the time of Death Wish, Bronson had already built a reputation playing characters an average mugger would not want to meet in a dark alley. So, simply having Bronson in the role made many such encounters predictable. The film would have worked much better if Kersey had been, as originally planned by the producers, played by Jack Lemmon, an actor with a much better acting range and more able to play a mild-mannered liberal who gradually turns into a bloodthirsty vigilante. However, Bronson does an adequate job and Death Wish works, providing an ugly, disturbing but effective and often thought-provoking vigilante story that would serve as a template for many similar films, usually made with much less quality.

RATING: 7/10 (++)