This movie starts out bloody brilliant. . .then circles the drain of god awful toward the end. The opener, killer wolves prowling Battery Park (with the Trade Center towers in the background of nearly ever shot) is just terrific. Cut to the otherworldly rubble of the South Bronx — outstanding producion value. Albert Finney plays a great hardnosed cop, eating cookies at an autopsy, and Gregory Hines is quite funny as his dopey sidekick. Then the plot kicks in and it is all over. Native American god-wolves don’t like urban renewal because it will cease their feast of insolvent black people?! I think that was it. I’m not sure. I do know there was a subplot of a secret CIA-like private security firm that went no where (despite showing off cool 1981-era computers) and ample shots of Edward James Olmos’ ass. From the director of Woodstock (?) and, basically, nothing else. I’d love to know what a guy like this is working on day-to-day. (Teaching, I’m sure.)
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