On "Tango & Cash"

A few days ago, I had a string of posts about "Friday The 13th Part 5". There were not as many of them as there were for "Friday The 13th Part 4", but then I guess I didn't have as much to say about the former. I don't know if it wasn't bad enough to arouse my ire or what. Maybe it wasn't promising enough to be worth it. In any case, there's another movie that I know fairly well and which has lots in it that I could write about.

It's "Tango & Cash", which I've mentioned in passing a few times, but which I don't know if I've explored in depth. It warrants it. To give a brief synopsis, Sylvester Stallone and Kurt Russell are two celebrated LA cops who clash with Jack Palance's evil drug lord. Stallone is a clean-cut, fastidious stock-trading, suit-wearing cop. Russell is a crude, blue collar, free-wheeling type. Somehow Stallone is Tango and Russell is Cash.

I could write a book about their two characters alone. Incredibly, each of them is so famous that in their seemingly daily appearances in the newspaper, they are referred to only by their last names, and consistently receive huge, headshot-quality pictures. It's really amazing. These are two LAPD detectives who are more famous than the mayor. Really, they're more famous than almost anyone outside of Oprah.

Considering that, you'd think they would find it difficult to conduct covert operations, or to even walk the streets when they find themselves wanted men. If there were suddenly a warrant out for Oprah and she stayed in town, how long could she remain at large? There is a disconnect between the level of notoriety suggested by the film's depiction of their media coverage and what actually seems to be the case.

If there's any concrete evidence apart from the incessant newspaper headlines in the film, it would be the children who flock after Cash's car in his introductory scene. That in itself is incredible (as is Cash's spectacular convertible). About as unlikely as detectives being famous is a sleazy-looking white detective in a Latino neighborhood being beloved by the children as if he was Santa Claus. What relationship could he have developed with them in between his gritty narcotics busts?

There is so much more to say. Like I said, I could write a book. More chapters of my analysis are sure to follow, but let me be clear on one thing: I love this movie. Many people who write about movies like this let it show that they have contempt for the movie they're watching. Their jokes are mean-spirited. When I critique this movie (as when I critique almost any movie), it is out of affection. I have deep affection for "Tango & Cash".