Streets of Fire
Rick Moranis. He was one of the great sidekicks of all time, capitalizing on his SCTV days (which concluded with his very own beer guzzling adventure, Strange Brew, in 1983) to appear in Ghostbusters  as everybody’s favorite nasally nerd, Louis Tully. The very same year, he played the smarmy manager and boyfriend of Ellen Aim (a sultry Diane Lane) in Walter Hill’s oft overlooked classic, Streets of Fire . The 80s were something of a legendary run for Moranis, as he worked with Mel Brooks (Spaceballs), Harold Ramis (Club Paradise) and even starred in his own Frank Oz-helmed musical (Little Shop of Horrors).
Then, in 1996, he just disappeared. (more…)
Starling City is in utter anarchy. The city is swimming in chaos as Mirakuru-enhanced madmen flood the streets destroying and murdering just about everything in their path. Circumstances are dire, and typically such an over-the-top premise of the city collapsing around our heroes is an all too often overused season finale device. Hell! Arrowused the same premise last season! But in Season 2 they’ve earned it, properly setting up and selling this city under siege. (more…)
Welcome to the first installment in our revamped “Retro Reviews” column, where we explore both the movies you know and love, as well as the oft overlooked gems you should be spending more time with. To kick off this nerdy canonical carousal, we bring you the ultimate rock & roll fever dream, Walter Hill’s Streets of Fire (1984)…
“Another Time. Another Place…”
This is the title card that opens Streets of Fire, Walter Hill’s absolutely bonkers “Rock & Roll Fable”. Blending the aesthetics of ’50s greaser gang films with the neon lit synths of ’80s arena rock, Hill creates a world that feels like a mirrored alternate dimension of our own. Streets of Fire is a teenager’s fever dream after taking acid and listening to too much Meat Loaf; our burly hero (Michael Paré) seeking his estranged, hair-tossing goddess of a lady love (Diane Lane), only to have her snatched away by a leathery lizard in patent leather overalls (Willem Dafoe) for the sole enjoyment of his nightmarish rulers of the city. Reality completely takes a backseat to aura-building, as Hill yet again confirms that pragmatism in filmmaking is truly overrated.