New York City novelist/screenwriter Richard Price
didn’t truly connect with Hollywood until his script for Martin Scorsese’s The Color of Money (1986) announced his expertise
at writing tough underworld stories. Yet Price’s association with the movies
actually began in the ’70s, when two of his books were adapted into features.
First came Bloodbrothers, a
small-scale drama released in 1978, and then came The Wanderers, a quasi-epic about Brooklyn street gangs. Co-written
and directed by the unpredictable Philip Kaufman, The Wanderers is ostensibly a nostalgic look at teen life in the
early ’60s, before the assassination of JFK, the emergence of the
counterculture, and the beginning of America’s Vietnam entanglement. The title
refers to a gang of Italian-American teenagers who spend their free time
chasing girls, fighting with rival gangs, and generally prolonging adolescence.
Their exploits are set to a thumping soundtrack filled with tunes by Dion, the
Four Seasons, and other doo-wop-influenced groups.
When Kaufman keeps things
simple, focusing on the misadventures of gang leader Richie (Ken Wahl) and his
cronies, The Wanderers works well.
However, Kaufman takes the movie in strange directions by treating the presence
of a gang called the Ducky Boys in an apocalyptic fashion—whenever the Ducky
Boys show up to cause trouble, the movie’s tone shifts from playful to
terrifying. And since many scenes in The
Wanderers approach outright comedy, the presence of the dissonant Ducky Boys
vignettes undermines the integrity of the whole piece. And that’s not the only
problem with The Wanderers. Much of
the picture comprises a romantic triangle involving Richie, his maybe-pregnant
girlfriend Despie (Toni Kalem), and Nina (Karen Allen), the new girl who
catches Richie’s eye. This coming-of-age material is trite, and a subplot
involving Despie’s dad, Chubby (Dolph Sweet), seems overly grim because Chubby’s
a wiseguy who does things like dropping a bowling ball onto an enemy’s hand.
From start to finish, The Wanderers
can’t decide if it’s a wild-youth romp or a gritty portrait of urban violence.
Nonetheless,
the movie has amazing textures. Ace cinematographer Michael Chapman gives the
visuals gravitas, and memorable actors add idiosyncratic flavors to the mix.
For instance, The Wanderers features
diminutive Linda Manz (best known for Terrence Malick’s 1978 mood piece Days of Heaven) and hulking Erland Van
Lidth, who plays a massive street tough nicknamed “Terror,” as an unlikely
couple. Demonstrating his customary interest in surprising juxtapositions,
Kaufman portrays Manz as the tougher of the two, while still leaving room to
reveal her character’s fragility. Similarly, Kaufman gets terrific work out of
Wahl—a Stallone type with legitimate acting chops—and John Friedrich, who plays
the other main Wanderer, Joey. Scenes of these two and their pals cruising the
streets of New York are exciting and fun. Alas, for every vivid bit—Terror’s
gang memorably threatens the Wanderers during a harrowing trip to a
bridge—there’s an improbable moment like the scene in which a teacher (Val
Avery) nearly instigates a race war in his classroom. The Wanderers lacks discipline, restraint, and shape, but it
explodes with energy and intensity. In modern parlance, the movie’s a hot mess.
The
Wanderers: FUNKY
