Not exactly the Sharks and the Jets: "The Warriors"

Since the missus didn't want me at her scrapbooking party last night -- dammit! -- I stayed home and finally saw what some consider a cult classic. Now more than 25 years old, "The Warriors" was where director Walter Hill cut his teeth before making it big with "48 Hrs.," and it's not as good. But hey, what does match up to Eddie Murphy terrorizing a redneck bar? ("Not a very popular place with the brothers ... ")

Anyway, the idea of this movie is solid: New York gangs hold a summit in the Bronx, and the guy trying to unite the gangs to take over the city is shot. Everyone thinks the Warriors, from way over in Coney Island, did it, and they've got to dodge every other gang, as well as the police, to get home. Sounds like a fun night, huh? And I used to get pissed about going crosstown in the middle of the day.

Unfortunately, I think this comes down to me being too young when this movie first came out in '79. Maybe then, people didn't chuckle at seeing "gangs" dressed as face-painted baseball players, street mimes and extras from a Dexy's Midnight Runners video. Hell, when the most normal outfits are the Warriors' leather vests and no shirts -- paging The Village People -- you've got a problem.

Another thing might be this post-Giuliani era, when New York is pretty safe and it's hard to imagine graffiti-covered subway cars and the potential to get capped at every corner. A decent chunk of action takes place around 96th Street in Manhattan. I've been there -- East Side and West Side -- and it's not bad. I kept waiting for a scene in Times Square in which the Warriors ducked into ESPN Zone.

Like I said, the context may just be wrong. I liked the fight scenes; Hill always is good at throwing bodies through doors and windows. And you had fun performances by a couple of Hill's favorites, James Remar (Ajax) and David Patrick Kelly, the latter playing the real gang summit shooter and his typical psycho. "Warriorrrrs ... Come out and play-i-ay!!!" Still, for cheesy gang movies, I'd go with "Streets of Fire." Michael Pare seemed more the bad ass than Michael Beck, and you had Diane Lane. Woof.