Movie Review: To Live and Die in L.A. (1985)

★★★★★

I wasn’t sure what to expect, but To Live and Die in L.A. totally pulled me in. It’s slick, tense, and full of that cool ’80s edge. The chase scene? Insane.

Alfredo C.

Florida

When people talk about To Live and Die in L.A., the conversation usually revolves around its jaw-dropping wrong-way freeway chase or its synth-heavy Wang Chung soundtrack. Both deserve the hype. But rewatching it for BoxReview.com, I was reminded that what really makes William Friedkin’s crime thriller unforgettable is how it takes the sleek, stylish surface of 80s L.A. and peels it back to reveal a world of corruption, moral decay, and desperation.

This isn’t your standard cops-and-robbers story. It’s a film where the supposed “good guys” operate with the same ruthlessness as the criminals they’re chasing, and sometimes, they’re even harder to root for.

The Premise: Revenge and the Long Game

The plot kicks off when Secret Service agent Richard Chance (William Petersen) loses his partner to counterfeiter Rick Masters (Willem Dafoe). With only a few days left before his own retirement, Chance makes it his mission to bring Masters down no matter the cost.

That “no matter the cost” part? Friedkin takes it literally. Chance’s pursuit of justice quickly becomes indistinguishable from vengeance, and the lines between law enforcement and criminal behavior blur until you’re not sure if there’s a difference at all.

William Petersen: A Hero You Don’t Trust

Petersen’s Chance is charismatic, reckless, and single-minded to the point of self-destruction. You want to root for him because he’s technically on the right side of the law, but the deeper you get into the story, the more you realize he’s crossing every ethical line he can find.

Petersen plays him with an intensity that makes you believe he would absolutely risk his partner’s life, commit outright crimes, and gamble everything just to get the man he’s after. It’s unsettling… but it’s exactly what makes him fascinating.

Willem Dafoe: Charisma in the Shadows

As Rick Masters, Willem Dafoe is magnetic. He’s not your typical 80s villain, no over-the-top monologues or cartoonish menace. Instead, he’s controlled, calculating, and almost artistic in his counterfeiting.

One of the film’s under-discussed strengths is how much time Friedkin spends showing Masters working. There’s a nearly wordless sequence where he creates fake bills from scratch, and it’s shot with such precision that it plays like a heist scene in reverse. It’s both fascinating and unnerving, and it tells you everything about Masters’ personality without a single line of dialogue.

The Supporting Cast: Everyone’s Compromised

John Pankow, as Chance’s new partner, Vukovich, starts as the audience’s moral anchor, the guy who seems genuinely uncomfortable with the shady tactics. Watching him slowly lose that moral high ground is one of the most quietly devastating arcs in the movie.

Debra Feuer, as Master’s girlfriend Bianca, and Darlanne Fluegel, as Chance’s informant Ruth, both bring layers to characters that could have been flat stereotypes. Ruth, in particular, is interesting. She’s a civilian trapped in the orbit of these dangerous men, doing whatever she must to survive.

The Look of the Film: Sunlit Noir

Unlike many noir-inspired thrillers that lean into shadowy streets and rainy nights, To Live and Die in L.A. takes place in the blinding light of day. Robby Müller’s cinematography uses L.A.’s industrial outskirts, dry riverbeds, and sun-bleached freeways to give the film a washed-out, almost documentary feel.

This choice makes the violence and corruption hit harder because they’re happening right out in the open, with nowhere to hide.

The Car Chase: Controlled Chaos

Let’s talk about that car chase. Friedkin, who already set the standard for gritty vehicle mayhem in The French Connection, tops himself here. It’s not just about speed or stunts; it’s about tension.

Chance and Vukovich end up driving against freeway traffic, and Friedkin’s decision to stage much of it in long, unbroken shots makes it feel terrifyingly real. There’s no CGI safety net, just the raw skill of stunt drivers and the nerve of a director who likes to flirt with disaster.

Under-Discussed Element: Moral Inversion

Most reviews focus on the action, but the film’s biggest punch comes from its moral inversion. The Secret Service agents manipulate witnesses, commit theft, and justify violence as “part of the job.”

By the time the ending rolls around, an ending I won’t spoil if you’ve never seen it, you’re left questioning whether anyone in this story ever stood for anything beyond self-interest.

The Soundtrack: Wang Chung’s Bold Move

Yes, the soundtrack is all Wang Chung, and yes, it works. Friedkin didn’t just license a few tracks; he had the band compose an entire score. The result is a synth-driven soundscape that’s moody, propulsive, and unmistakably 80s.

It’s an odd choice that gives the film a pulse distinct from other crime thrillers of the era. The score doesn’t try to mimic orchestral tension; it leans into the artificiality, underscoring the idea that in this world, nothing is entirely real.

Why To Live and Die in L.A. Still Matters

In a time when crime thrillers often soften the edges of their protagonists to keep them “likable,” Friedkin’s film remains uncompromising. It doesn’t care if you like these characters; it just wants you to watch them, judge them, and maybe recognize some uncomfortable truths in the process.

It’s also a perfect time capsule of mid-80s L.A., capturing not the glitz of Hollywood, but the heat, dust, and decay of its underbelly.

Personal Take: The Heat Never Lets Up

The first time I saw To Live and Die in L.A., I was expecting a standard “good guys vs. bad guys” setup. By the end, I realized it’s more of a survival story about people willing to burn everything down to get what they want.

And Friedkin never gives you room to breathe. Every scene has a simmering tension, like the heat coming off the L.A. asphalt. Even the quiet moments feel dangerous.

Final Thoughts

To Live and Die in L.A. isn’t just an action thriller; it’s a study in moral corrosion, set to a pounding synth score and shot in unforgiving daylight. It’s stylish without being shallow, thrilling without being mindless, and cynical without feeling empty.

It’s a ride that starts fast and never slows down, and if you’ve never seen it, you’re in for something that’s as sharp and dangerous as a switchblade in the sun.