“Did you ever take a new job and three days in you wonder – What the fuck have I done?”
With these opening words, Rob Ryder grabs you by the scruff, jacks you into a subway car and starts spitting out Warriors stories, one after another, as that 6th Avenue Express hurtles into the night.
It’s the summer of 1978, and Ryder’s been hired onto The Warriors as a P.A. then quickly bumped up to location scout. Six weeks later, a stuntman smashes up his leg and Ryder is suddenly a Baseball Fury. A weird turn of events – what with the purple make-up, black wig, and Yankees uniform…
Purple Fury is fast, smart and funny.
Not some scholarly tome – but a cold
plunge into the hot mess of real-life
Director Walter Hill takes such delight in having Swan beat the shit out of Ryder he decides to next make him a Punk in the infamous subway bathroom brawl – where Cochise and Snow get in their shots before Swan once again finishes him off.
Then all too soon, this train screeches to a halt – and you’re left feeling a lot like the Warriors did – battered, bruised, but still standing. And weirdly exhilarated.