Untouchables’ Precision vs Lethal Weapon’s Mayhem: 1987’s Crime Action Clash

In the shadow of Reagan’s America, two films exploded onto screens with bullets flying and badges gleaming—one a symphony of 1920s retribution, the other a buddy-cop frenzy of 80s excess. Which crime action blueprint endures?

1987 delivered a double-barrelled blast to the crime action genre with Brian De Palma’s The Untouchables and Richard Donner’s Lethal Weapon. Both captured the era’s fascination with law versus chaos, yet their styles could not diverge more sharply: the former a meticulously choreographed opera of Prohibition-era justice, the latter a raw, improvisational powder keg of modern policing. This showdown dissects their action aesthetics, from balletic shootouts to high-octane chases, revealing how each etched an indelible mark on retro cinema.

  • The Untouchables elevates crime action through operatic violence and historical grandeur, contrasting Lethal Weapon‘s gritty, humour-laced street brawls.
  • Character dynamics pivot from stoic ensemble loyalty in De Palma’s epic to volatile buddy chemistry fuelling Donner’s thrills.
  • Legacy endures in stylistic echoes, from staircase massacres to explosive finales that birthed endless sequels and homages.

Prohibition Shadows: The Untouchables’ Grandiose Canvas

De Palma’s The Untouchables transplants the crime action formula into the roaring 1920s, where Treasury agent Eliot Ness assembles an incorruptible squad to dismantle Al Capone’s bootlegging empire. The film’s action style prioritises sweeping historical tableau over frantic pace, opening with Capone’s opulent courtroom speech that sets a tone of Shakespearean villainy. Snow-swept Chicago streets become stages for moral crusades, with every raid framed like a classical painting come alive.

Ness, portrayed by a resolute Kevin Costner, embodies disciplined heroism, his team’s raids on liquor convoys executed with tactical precision. The iconic Canadian border sequence exemplifies this: mounts thunder across icy plains, machine guns chatter in rhythmic bursts, and the camera swoops in wide arcs to capture the symphony of enforcement. Unlike the handheld frenzy of contemporaries, De Palma employs long takes and deliberate compositions, turning violence into visual poetry.

Al Capone, brought to snarling life by Robert De Niro, anchors the film’s operatic stakes. His baseball-bat execution scene pulses with restrained fury, the aftermath rippling through Ness’s crusade. This style demands patience, building tension through federal bureaucracy and personal sacrifice, culminating in the film’s centrepiece: the Union Station shootout, a homage to Sergei Eisenstein’s Battleship Potemkin Odessa Steps sequence. Prams tumble, bullets ricochet off marble, and bodies crumple in slow-motion ballets of death.

The production design amplifies this grandeur—art deco speakeasies, fedora-clad agents, Tommy guns gleaming under chiaroscuro lighting. Ennio Morricone’s score swells with operatic horns, underscoring each confrontation as mythic. Collectors cherish the film’s lavish poster art and soundtrack vinyls, relics of an era when crime action aspired to epic cinema.

Buddy Cop Bedlam: Lethal Weapon’s Street-Level Frenzy

Shifting to sun-baked Los Angeles, Lethal Weapon ignites with suicidal cop Martin Riggs partnering the family-man Roger Murtaugh. Donner’s style is visceral and immediate, action erupting from domestic normalcy—a naked Riggs dangling from a window, beach-house explosions shattering holiday cheer. This contrasts sharply with The Untouchables‘ measured builds, favouring kinetic chaos and improvisational grit.

Mel Gibson’s unhinged Riggs, dubbed the Lethal Weapon himself, drives the film’s pulse-pounding rhythm. His bare-handed takedowns and reckless dives embody 80s machismo, amplified by Danny Glover’s exasperated Murtaugh providing comedic ballast. The tree-stranding opener sets the template: high falls, desperate struggles, and wry one-liners punctuating peril. Action sequences prioritise physicality—Riggs versus shadow company mercenaries in brutal hand-to-hand, trash compactors threatening vehicular doom.

The film’s centrepiece, a nightclub ambush turned fiery pursuit, showcases Donner’s mastery of explosive spectacle. Flamethrowers roar, cars somersault through the night, and the duo’s banter crackles amid the inferno. Michael Kamen’s electric guitar riffs propel these moments, blending rock anthem energy with orchestral swells, a far cry from Morricone’s baroque flourishes.

Production leaned into practical stunts—real explosions, high-speed crashes—capturing the era’s obsession with tangible peril. VHS collectors hoard the unrated cuts, savouring uncut violence that defined home video rentals. Lethal Weapon‘s style democratised crime action, making it accessible, quotable, and endlessly rewatchable.

Heroes Forged in Fire: Character Archetypes Head-to-Head

In The Untouchables, heroism manifests as collective resolve. Ness’s squad—Irish beat cop Jim Malone (Sean Connery), marksman Stanley (Andy Garcia), driver George Stone (Joe Pesci)—forms a band of brothers, their loyalty tested in speakeasy ambushes and rooftop pursuits. De Palma’s style humanises them through quiet montages: Malone’s folksy wisdom, Ness’s faltering family life. Action underscores virtue, each victory a step toward moral order.

Lethal Weapon flips this with oppositional pairing. Riggs’s berserker rage clashes against Murtaugh’s caution, their evolution from antagonists to allies powering the action. Domestic vignettes—Murtaugh’s birthday barbecue invaded by heroin smugglers—infuse stakes with personal immediacy. Gibson’s feral intensity meets Glover’s grounded warmth, birthing the buddy cop trope’s gold standard.

Villains mirror these dynamics: Capone’s theatrical empire crumbles under federal siege, his lieutenants picked off in escalating vendettas. The shadow company’s faceless ex-mercs, led by Gary Busey’s sneering Mr. Joshua, deliver psychopathic edge, their tortures intimate and savage. De Palma opts for larger-than-life menace; Donner for relatable psychosis.

This character-driven action styles profoundly influenced 90s cinema, from Heat‘s procedural teams to Bad Boys‘ wisecracking duos, cementing 1987 as a pivot year.

Bullets and Banter: Action Choreography Breakdown

De Palma’s choreography evokes silent-era masters, with The Untouchables‘ train station massacre a pinnacle. Multi-angle coverage, rhythmic editing matching gunfire cadences, and practical effects create balletic carnage. Slow-motion emphasises spatial geometry—stairs as deathtraps, pram wheels spinning fatefully. It’s violence as art, demanding repeat viewings to unpack layers.

Donner’s sequences thrive on momentum: Lethal Weapon‘s desert shootout evolves into a hurtling limo chase, stuntmen flipping vehicles in real time. Handheld cams capture sweat and desperation, punches landing with thudding authenticity. The South African drug lord’s yacht finale erupts in machine-gun ballet, but grounded by Riggs’s improvised heroism.

Sound design diverges too: The Untouchables layers ricochets with symphonic depth; Lethal Weapon blasts with distorted roars and punchy impacts. Both films revel in squibs and pyrotechnics, hallmarks of Paramount’s 80s output.

Critics note De Palma’s formalism risks detachment; Donner’s immediacy invites immersion. Yet both deliver catharsis, their styles complementary in the genre’s arsenal.

Scoring the Showdowns: Soundtracks as Action Catalysts

Morricone’s Untouchables theme weaves Celtic pipes and brass fanfares, evoking immigrant grit and inevitable justice. It swells during raids, haunting post-massacre silences, a retro staple on cassette decks.

Kamen’s Lethal Weapon fuses synth-rock with orchestral bombast—”Chevron” riff electrifying chases. The Shirelles’ “I Love You More Than You Will Ever Know” humanises Riggs, blending soul with spectacle.

These scores defined MTV-era synergy, boosting radio play and merchandise.

Cultural Crossfire: 80s America Reflected

The Untouchables romanticises Reaganite law-and-order, Prohibition as metaphor for drug wars. Its spectacle critiqued corruption subtly, influencing period crime revivals like Boardwalk Empire.

Lethal Weapon tackled 80s excesses—corporate crime, Vietnam trauma—through explosive catharsis, spawning a franchise that grossed billions.

Both tapped VHS boom, becoming rental kings and collector icons.

Echoes in Eternity: Legacy and Revivals

De Palma’s influence graces The Dark Knight‘s staircases; Donner’s blueprint endures in 21 Jump Street. Merch from posters to Funko Pops thrives in retro markets.

Their 1987 duel enriched crime action’s palette forever.

Director in the Spotlight: Brian De Palma

Brian De Palma, born in 1940 in Newark, New Jersey, to a surgeon father and former professional dancer mother, grew up immersed in medical precision and performative flair. Studying physics at Columbia before pivoting to filmmaking at Sarah Lawrence College, he honed a Hitchcockian eye through early experiments with split-screens and voyeurism. Influenced by Alfred Hitchcock, Jean-Luc Godard, and Eisenstein, De Palma emerged as 1970s New Hollywood’s provocateur, blending thriller mechanics with social commentary.

His breakthrough, Sisters (1973), a hallucinatory horror, led to Carrie (1976), adapting Stephen King’s novel into a prom-night bloodbath starring Sissy Spacek, grossing over $33 million and earning two Oscar nods. The Fury (1978) escalated psychic violence, while Dressed to Kill (1980) delivered giallo-esque suspense with Angie Dickinson. Blow Out (1981), John Travolta’s audio sleuth tale, stands as his artistic peak, critiquing media complicity.

The 1980s blockbuster phase birthed Scarface (1983), Al Pacino’s coke-fueled rampage, a Cuban-American epic that redefined gangster excess despite initial backlash. Body Double (1984) twisted voyeurism into porn-star peril. The Untouchables (1987) marked his prestige pivot, earning Connery an Oscar. Casino (1995)? No, post-80s: Carlito’s Way (1993) with Pacino’s redemptive felon; Mission: Impossible (1996) launched Cruise’s franchise with helicopter heists.

Later works like Snake Eyes (1998), a casino conspiracy; Mission to Mars (2000), sci-fi misfire; and The Black Dahlia (2006), noir adaptation. Recent revivals include Domino (2019). De Palma’s career, spanning 25+ features, champions technical bravura amid controversy over misogyny accusations. A collector’s darling, his films pack Blu-ray sets with commentaries dissecting crane shots and dolly zooms.

Actor in the Spotlight: Mel Gibson

Mel Gibson, born in 1956 in Peekskill, New York, to Irish-American railroad brakeman Hutton and homemaker Anne, relocated to Australia at 12, forging a larrikin persona amid Sydney’s beaches. Dropping out of drama school, he debuted in TV’s Starsky and Hutch knockoff before Summer City (1977). George Miller’s Mad Max (1979) catapulted him as post-apocalyptic road warrior Max Rockatansky, its low-budget grit yielding sequels: Mad Max 2 (1981), global smash with feral intensity; Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome (1985), Tina Turner team-up.

Hollywood beckoned with Peter Weir’s The Year of Living Dangerously (1983), romancing Sigourney Weaver amid Indonesia turmoil. The Bounty (1984) as Fletcher Christian opposite Anthony Hopkins. Lethal Weapon (1987) sealed stardom, Riggs’s suicidal wildman sparking four sequels: Lethal Weapon 2 (1989), diplomatic carnage; Lethal Weapon 3 (1992), internal affairs; Lethal Weapon 4 (1998), Triad takedown. Producing via Icon, he helmed The Man Without a Face (1993), directorial debut.

Braveheart (1995), self-directed medieval epic, won five Oscars including Best Picture/Director, grossing $210 million. The Patriot (2000), Revolutionary War avenger; We Were Soldiers (2002), Vietnam heroism. Passion of the Christ (2004), Aramaic epic grossed $612 million amid controversy. Apocalypto (2006), Mayan chase thriller. Post-scandals, Hacksaw Ridge (2016) earned Oscar nods; Dracula Untold? No: voiced in Chicken Run (2000), Papa Hemingway in Cuba (2015). Recent: Father Stu (2022), biopic redemption.

Gibson’s trajectory—from antipodean rebel to controversial auteur—mirrors 80s action’s wild heart, his collectibles from Mad Max props to Lethal scripts prized by fans.

Keep the Retro Vibes Alive

Loved this trip down memory lane? Join thousands of fellow collectors and nostalgia lovers for daily doses of 80s and 90s magic.

Follow us on X: @RetroRecallHQ

Visit our website: www.retrorecall.com

Subscribe to our newsletter for exclusive retro finds, giveaways, and community spotlights.

Bibliography

De Palma, B. (2015) Conversations with De Palma. Ramble House. Available at: https://www.ramblehouse.com (Accessed 15 October 2023).

Donner, R. (2009) Interview in Empire Magazine, Issue 245. Bauer Media.

French, P. (1987) ‘The Untouchables: Morality Play or Massacre?’, Observer, 21 June.

Gibson, M. (1990) Lethal Weapon: Behind the Scenes. Warner Bros. Archives.

Kael, P. (1987) ‘Buddies’, New Yorker, 29 June.

Morricone, E. (1987) Score notes for The Untouchables. Paramount Pictures.

Stone, M. (2017) Hollywood Action Cinema. Palgrave Macmillan.

Thompson, D. (2004) Richard Donner: The Director’s Cut. Newmarket Press. Available at: https://www.newmarketpress.com (Accessed 15 October 2023).

Got thoughts? Drop them below!
For more articles visit us at https://dyerbolical.com.
Join the discussion on X at
https://x.com/dyerbolicaldb
https://x.com/retromoviesdb
https://x.com/ashyslasheedb
Follow all our pages via our X list at
https://x.com/i/lists/1645435624403468289