Robert A. Endelson

Straw Weisman

Robert Judd...Ted Turner

Catherine Pepper....Mrs. Turner

Lela Small...Grandma Turner

Yvonne Ross...Corrie Turner

Reggie Rock Bythewood...Floyd Turner (as Reginald Bythewood)

Ramon Saunders....Val Turner

Queenie Endelson....Dog

William Sanderson...Jessie Lee Kane

Daniel Faraldo....Chino

Peter Yoshida....Ling

David Dewlow....Joey

Nick Hardi....Tony (as Nick Mariano)

 

 

It is often the case that exploitation films get dismissed as favourites only of film geeks or perverts, out to see forbidden subjects far too incendiary for mainstream cinema. And perhaps for the most part, the dismissal is appropriate. Anyone who has sat through a Herschell Gordon Lewis classic like Blood Feast or The Wizard of Gore knows that they have not witnessed great cinema, but instead have had a glimpse of the little dark corner of the film world, somewhere inbetween pornography and Studio B-movies. Like any dark cavern though, there are little shards of light that glimmer through, and while Fight For Your Life may not be a beacon of cinematic greatness, it is a damn sight more interesting and poignant look at race relations in America than Driving Miss Daisy could ever be.

 

Known as one of Quentin Tarantino’s favorite exploitation films and having the dubious notoriety of causing riots in Harlem during screenings, Fight For Your Life is a surprisingly well-observed grindhouse classic about three violent prison escapees (led by Jessie, played by an incredible William Sanderson, who went on to moderate fame in Blade Runner) who take a church fearing African-American family hostage, submitting them to racial humiliation, rape and murder.

 

While it still suffers from some of the traditional exploitation pratfalls (clunky dialogue, throwaway sex-scene and trite character exposition), Fight For Your Life stands out for delivering some of the most racist vitriol in spades, with Sanderson casually spouting some of the most daring one liners ever penned by a screenwriter (“Martin Luther Coon” probably the highlight, followed closely by “Tar-Baby”). But his racism never carries over into the film itself, which follows a standard hostage drama in the vein of Desperate Hours fairly closely.

 

Instead, Jessie’s violence and prejudice make him all the more terrifying, and when he puts the barrel of a gun to a toddler’s head, you actually believe he’s going to pull the trigger.  It is very rare to hear an audience cheer and boo a character simply for existing, but if you are lucky enough to catch Fight For Your Life at a theatre, you are likely to hear it with fervour.

 

The audio commentary with screenwriter Straw Weisman and director of photography Lloyd Freidus highlights some of the stigma that has surrounded this film over the years (both director Robert A Endelson and actor William Sanderson declined appearing to discuss the movie). It also points out the way in which the film has been received over the years (included in the DVD are the two startlingly different trailers that were marketed to black and white audiences, the black version featured the altered title Staying Alive and featuring the slogan ‘Makes you proud to be a black man!’).

 

In recent years some of the more exemplary exploitation films have received the DVD make-over, perhaps the most notable is the Elite Entertainment’s release of I Spit on Your Grave, but Blue Underground have done an excellent job of presenting Fight For Your Life as a grindhouse classic. It may not quite have transcending cultural boundaries like The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, but it holds up today as an unrelenting revenge film that deserves to sit on any serious DVD collector’s shelf.