It’s 1984, and your stupid-ass husband risks both of your lives just to prove he’s still got it.
The ’80s neo-noirs have been my Roman Empire for a long, long time. There’s a certain quality to them that I can’t quite fathom. 52 Pick-Up, like many films of the era, delivers both the necessary and unnecessary nudity, an exploration of the questionable underbelly of pristine public life, and over-the-top violence – all the usual menu of a cocaine budget, set against a backdrop I couldn’t help but associate with Dynasty, Dallas, and other similar shows.
It's simple, it's fun, a bit overacted at times, but solid film.
It’s 1984, and your stupid-ass husband risks both of your lives just to prove he’s still got it.
The ’80s neo-noirs have been my Roman Empire for a long, long time. There’s a certain quality to them that I can’t quite fathom. 52 Pick-Up, like many films of the era, delivers both the necessary and unnecessary nudity, an exploration of the questionable underbelly of pristine public life, and over-the-top violence – all the usual menu of a cocaine budget, set against a backdrop I couldn’t help but associate with Dynasty, Dallas, and other similar shows.
It's simple, it's fun, a bit overacted at times, but solid film.
