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Rating: The Road as the sole mistress. Harsh, raw, perpetually wet. Her attire is the darkness of the night, her possessions are piles of refuse.
Today a mother, tomorrow a killer. Whether it's a wide artery or a narrow alley, bordering residential areas or diving into infamous suburbs, whether a lover or a whore, she knows only one law: fight to survive.
Her plots are dark, her thoughts twisted, her desires obscene and unspeakable. Her knowledge is foolish, her joys are flashes in the darkness. Hope is a utopia, desolation is her gospel. She laughs at others’ sadness, she amuses herself with others’ hope. Her children bear sinister and dangerous names: The Warriors, Riffs, Baseball Furies, Lizzies.
They have never received an education, never a caress, never toys, but only the order to follow her will. They are brothers in bad luck, enemies in misery. They fight relentless wars, foster hatred whose reasons are lost among the squeaks of rats and sewage running in the open. But a name, for some time, resounds through the guts of the Bronx: Cyrus.
He is a Conciliator, a rebel against foolish laws, an older brother. His task is to bring a truce among the bands of the desperate, to replace the coldness of knives with the warmth of a handshake. A great meeting is, therefore, the opportune moment to discuss, to reconcile, to embrace, to rebel, once and for all, against the insidious law of the Road. But she is cunning and infinite are the allurements for those, desperate in despair, who let themselves be dazzled by her reassuring voice.
Cyrus is killed in public, the Warriors falsely accused of the murder, forced to escape into the night, hunted by other gangs, fleeing between the decrepit buildings of the Bronx, the dangerous metro, to reach Coney Island, home. The news bounces through the airwaves, a charming DJ voice narrates the mad dash through the night, law enforcement joins the pursuers. The prey is cornered, wounded, bleeding. But she knows well the tricks, she has been a perfect pupil of the Road's teachings.
She survives the terrible night and can admire another dawn, perhaps one of the last. Neither winners, nor losers… except her, the Road.
An urban nightmare. Essential and ruthless. A generational film.
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