Review: Death Wish II (1982)

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Death Wish II (1982) is a good example of a film that in its own time was groundbreaking in its brutality, but one that quickly became obsolete by the direction of film making and the system in general.

Charles Bronson reprises his role as architect Paul Kersey in the first of four follow-ups to the original revenge flick. Five years removed from the gritty New York of the first film, Kersey finds himself in Los Angeles trying to get beyond his vigilante past and on with his life.

He has a new girlfriend, played by Jill Ireland (Bronson's wife in real life), is about to land a high-end contract, and has just been granted the release and custody of his daughter from institutionalization. (She was cruelly raped in the original.)

It does not take long for trouble to arise, however; a gang of hoodlums (featuring a young Larry Fishburne) robs him as he's trying to buy ice cream for his daughter, find his address off his license, and commits one of the most brutal rapes (against Bronson's maid) ever filmed. Later reading about it, and finding that a lot had to be cut for an R-rating, it makes one wonder just how much farther this envelope was pushed. Just brutal.

In fact, I can rather see why Ireland's character was not the one in the position to be attacked, being Bronson's wife and all.

To top it off, the five hoods kidnap his daughter, rape her, and then watch as she runs through a window to her death.

Knowing the police would be of no help, Kersey enters a double life. By day, he's known as architect, father, mourner—by night, stocking-capped killer badass. From here out, it's setup after setup, tracking the scumbags and laying waste to them with eyes narrow and cold.

Michael Winner returned to direct this decent follow-up, which only hits a few hitches along the way (some weak dialogue in spots, a little poor acting in others, a weak score by none other than Jimmy Page) as it gets us from normal man to vengeance personified.

What was probably unique to its time, Death Wish II has aged poorly. (This could be due to the print. I watched a Goodtimes release, all choppy in its SLP (LP) mode.) The late-seventies vibe, the look of the print, the setups for some of the revenge seems sort of too well worn nearly thirty years later. Sadly (commentary on the angle at which filmmaking has headed, perhaps?), even the brutality, specifically the rape's viciousness, seems outdated as more and more films have sought to push that envelope since.

Though the third act slows the pace to a crawl, there's just enough thrill in the vengeance bits to recommend at least one viewing of this film. It isn't for everyone. Weak stomachs will probably churn. Some people may get sick at the film's politics of vengeance over the judicial system. And some folks may just not care for blood, rape, and cold killings on a Sunday afternoon.

Bronson's performance/persona saves the film and makes the vengeance entertaining and satisfying. He is simply awesome. I give this a borderline recommendation.

For its Genre/Era/X: Great

Overall: Good.