We start with a young woman named Christy (Megan Murphy) seeking meaning in her life from a visit to a clairvoyant. This facade of abstract questioning and inspirational guidance very soon gives way to something far more brutal. As Christie leaves her appointment, she is assaulted on the street by a rough named Danny who mentions her boyfriend, Goose, by name. Evidently, this city is in the throes of a gang war, where the members’ women are the unfortunate collateral.
Danny’s gang the Spiders are soon going hell for leather with their rivals, the Ravens – with a pitched battle in a cemetery between Goose (Van Bebber himself) and Danny (Paul Harper), resulting in Goose getting hurt. He’s all for immediate vengeance, but his long-suffering girlfriend tells him she’s getting sick of the strain of wondering if he’s going to get home alive every day. After some resistance, Goose agrees; it’s time to quit the life. However, once it’s known that he’s no longer in his gang – soon finding out that the Ravens and the Spiders have decided to set their differences aside to work together – he’s apparently a marked man. And so, apparently, by extension, Christie is in danger too. Goose misses his moment to protect Christie, and, traumatised by this event, he takes some time to gather himself. But when he’s conveniently roped back in to the Spiders/Raven gang to take part in one last heist, it’s the perfect opportunity to play.
There’s a pleasing patina of grime from the very first frames of Deadbeat at Dawn; its whole charm is that it’s wholly and gloriously unreconstructed, never stopping short of sex and violence – even if intimated – in a way that most of the more slick, conventional contemporary films of similar ilk would needs must. The 1980s of the film in general looks very much pre-clean up, pre-gloss, with every interior and every alley looking authentically grim, and a largely amateur cast add more veritas to all of this. Alongside, there’s a seam of cynicism running through the film which works really well. Christie is into New Age beliefs, coming across as some sort of gurgled last gasp of Age of Aquarius thinking which looks incredibly feckless by contrast against all the bloodshed going on around her. The religious guy at a diner later in the film also suggests something of a sneer, as an oafish man berates a waitress for not also making a breakfast for God when she serves him his. There are a few of these knowing moments.
It’s genuinely easy to see how Deadbeat at Dawn has garnered a cult following amongst exploitation fans. Made thirty years ago, it’s aged well, it looks good (insert the usual compliments to Arrow Films here) and above all else, it’s immensely ambitious. That comes across…I was going to say ‘even now’, but perhaps particularly now, with our jaded appetites and a glut of by-numbers indie movies which soon fade from the memory. I don’t think that’s going to happen here. Admittedly a meld of dream sequences, hallucination and gang violence will not be for everyone, but I do hope the new Arrow release helps to bring the film to a new generation of viewers. I’d say it’s very much deserved.
Deadbeat at Dawn (1988) is available from Arrow Films now.