Charles Bronson returns to New York and kills hundreds of people.
Death Wish 3 is the apex of punk panic movies; the ultra-violent culmination of a dream in which punks are portrayed as nothing more than snarling monsters that never cease roaming, hunting, and killing. It’s so far removed from reality that it can only be viewed as a strange phantasmagoria where Cyrus in The Warriors succeeded in combining the might of all the gangs of New York, only to have Charles Bronson show up and torch them all. In short, Death Wish 3 is the reason why cinema was created.
If I had any quibble with this masterpiece, it would be that there are too few standout punks. This isn’t to say that they should have had a greater depth of characterization; rather I wish that there had been more extreme examples of nicknames, gimmicks, or visual cues to push the absurdity even further. At least we’ll always have The Giggler, man.
If your search for happiness in this miserable world has brought you nothing but tears, may I recommend watching Death Wish 3, preferably on a double bill with Class of 1984. You can pay me in advance for this life-altering advice by donating toward Sean’s glorious moustache.