Thrillers that go over the top can either turn an average story into a surprising breakthrough or illuminate weaknesses in an embarrassing attempt at standing out. In William Friedkin’s To Live and Die in L.A., the 1985 film treads that line carefully as the violent and graphic renegade narrative often feels at odds with many style and dialogue choices running throughout. What it does thoroughly well, however, is encapsulate the sights, sounds, and complexities that define Los Angeles.
Based on the novel by former Secret Service agent Gerald Petievich, Friedkin obviously tries to channel The French Connection energy into To Live and Die in L.A., with a script that is as tough as leather but very modern. Unfortunately, modern means mid-1980s, which carries a sometimes hit-and-miss aesthetic.
Whether it’s the pretentious artiness, the ugly opening credits, the bad fashion, or the hokey dialogue, much of what was cool then doesn’t work well in a post-Miami Vice environment. The worst offender is Friedkin’s unfortunate choice of Wang Chung for soundtrack control, which lends itself well to the film in only a few scenes.
To Live and Die in L.A. begins with veteran hotshot Richard Chance (William L. Petersen) and the aging Jimmy Hart (Michael Greene), two United States Secret Service agents with the Treasury Department, assigned as counterfeiting investigators in its Los Angeles field office. After almost dying trying to protect President Reagan, Hart comes to terms with his nearing retirement.
With three days left before he rides off into the sunset, he takes on one last mission to apprehend infamous counterfeiter Rick Masters (Willem Dafoe). Unfortunately, he gets murdered by Masters and his goons after finding out the details of the counterfeiting scheme. Chance becomes enraged by the news, and with newbie partner John Vukovich (John Pankow), they seek to bring down Masters by any means necessary.
Due to budget constraints imposed by the studio, Friedkin wasn’t able to get a cast full of stars, but there are a lot of bright performances by To Live and Die in L.A.’s supporting actors. John Turturro pulls off a strong early performance, while Dean Stockwell fits perfectly as the stern and business-minded lawyer. Petersen is an average lead, but doesn’t quite express the nuances of his morally ambiguous character.
On the other hand, Dafoe fares better, giving a lot of depth to the icy-cold Masters, and his interactions with characters are some of the more memorable moments. Pankow, as Vukovich, fits well in contrast to Chance’s explosive bravado, as his character’s moral compass keeps the audience invested in the film.
Beyond its visual authenticity, one of the most impressive aspects is the immense freeway chase scene across Los Angeles, which reportedly took six weeks to film. Consisting of the two agents driving against traffic, with Chance defiant and Vukovich in shambles, the chase is the best moment in To Live and Die in L.A. as the underlying tension explodes into a high-speed pursuit.
The first half of To Live and Die in L.A typically follows standard Hollywood cop film rules, but by the second half, it descends into much darker territory, with everything getting thrown out the window. Chance’s fate is particularly unexpected, as it throws off the trajectory of a predictable action thriller, and the resulting end is much braver than expected.
The Blu-ray release of To Live and Die in L.A. also includes a standard definition DVD of the film. The choice would make more sense if both discs had equal exclusives, but the Blu-ray’s only real feature is the high definition video, which is a marked improvement (yet grainy at times). The DVD remains the same as previous releases, with commentary by Friedkin and an excellent documentary featurette where it is revealed that the brilliant counterfeit scene was done legitimately to provide greater authenticity. Unfortunately, the Blu-ray disc is scant on exclusive features that would make this upgrade more salient, but at least it’s sold at a decent price point.
With an understated cast and a script with more grit than most other police films from the era, To Live and Die in L.A. is surprisingly brutal in ways that most “buddy cop” films are not. However, poor soundtrack choices and some painful dialogue sometimes make you feel like you’re watching a Los Angeles version of Miami Vice. Ultimately, Friedkin makes a film that doesn’t hit all its marks, with enough energy to make it stand out, but not enough for it to reach greatness.