48 Hrs.
Directed by Walter Hill
- crime
- action
- comedy
The story
A hard-nosed cop reluctantly teams up with a wise-cracking criminal temporarily paroled to him, in order to track down a killer.
What it’s like
Gritty, sun-scorched late-seventies San Francisco, shot with grainy, warm-toned film stock: sodium-lit bars, dim interiors thick with cigarette haze, and bright daylight on sloping streets and gaudy neon-soaked nightlife. The camera stays close and kinetic in the car chases and brawls, with plenty of handheld energy and quick cuts, while quieter scenes sit in cramped rooms and dingy diners. Walter Hill's score pulses with synth-tinged cop-movie momentum, and the soundtrack's rock and R&B lends the nights a loose, restless swagger. Its vibe is rough-edged, wisecracking and combative, the sort of movie that suits a late Friday watch with the lights low. The pace is brisk and the banter is quick, and the central pairing of a surly detective and a fast-talking convict slowly shifts from mutual contempt toward grudging, sardonic loyalty. Violence is frequent and sharp: fistfights, gunfire, a stabbing, and some blood, with a few brutal moments but no sustained gore. Sexual content is minimal, and the language is coarse throughout. It is for viewers who enjoy hard-boiled buddy-cop action with a streak of irreverent humour.
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