Christopher Walken is a stand up guy and an absolute legend; an actor who could make a nursery rhyme sound like a death warrant, deliver what's arguably the greatest gag ever written about a timepiece in the history of cinema, wax lyrical about Calvin Klein pants, explain the concept of the tooth fairy or create what's got to be the most menacing paraplegic who ever rolled on screen. Abel Ferrara's cult crime movie sees former Mafioso-turned Mafioso philanthropist Frank White (Walken) launch a bloody campaign to reclaim power in N.Y. after a long stretch in Sing-Sing. Ferrara, an auteur as profoundly disturbed as he is talented, wisely reunited with old friend and collaborator; screenwriter Nichols St. John for this ambitious, streamlined picture; whose themes of resurrection & return reflect Ferrara's directorial career at the dawn of a last decade. After a lukewarm reception to his take on Elmore Leonard's 'Cat Chaser' this marked Abel's return to the lurid, gritty urban exploitation thrillers that'd bought him to prominence in the late 1970s, it was also a Dickensian 'Tale Of Two Movies' for Christopher Walken; his Oscar winning performance in 'The Deer Hunter' followed by high profile failures 'Heaven's Gate' and 'Pennies From Heaven'. Walken, written off by studios as a relic of a bygone era, soon flirted with cult credibility in films like 'The Dead Zone', 'Brainstorm', 'War Zone' and 'Communion' hence 'The King Of New York' was an ideal vehicle for the erstwhile song n' dance man to shine. Now Frank White must've done at least 15-20 on murder one or drug related offences, so I'm guessing he caught the vapours of the Carter era but spent the Regan years inside, only to emerge during George H.W. Bush's presidency to discover things were worse than ever. Frank sets about settling some old scores and decides to do for his city what the powers that be can't or won't: wage a ruthless turf war from the inside out, with an effective, if unorthodox, policy of extreme violence against all who stand in his way (i.e. cops or criminals) and giving alms to help the poor (i.e. trying to keep a hospital open. getting hookers of the street etc). A quietly charismatic, death dealing demagogue, Frank is aided by his resourceful lawyer / lover; Jennifer (Janet Julian), female bodyguards Melanie and Raye (perhaps a thematic nod in favour of then U.S. enemy Colonel Gaddafi whose famous for having women bodyguards) and right hand man Laurence 'Larry' Fishburne in the kind of gangsta role satirised by Robert Townsend in 'Hollywood Shuffle'. Larry hams it up with his gold capped tooth, gaudy bling, exaggerated street speak and sprained ankle shuffle which, though I'm no expert, looks and sounds dated, even in 1989. Stoic old-timer, the late/great Victor Argo, Wesley Snipes and David Caruso play the cops hell-bent on sending Frank back inside or putting him underground, meanwhile, be sure to look out for cameo appearances by Steve Buscemi, Paul Calderon, Giancarlo Esposito, Vanessa Angel and Harold Perrineau. 'The King Of New York' isn't a particularly good film, in fact, they're clichés abound and its quite tackily put together in places. But its Christopher Walken who makes it a worthwhile purchase; for I can't tell how many times I've watched that scene where he confronts officer Bishop (Argo) in his home: "...those guys are dead because...they were running this city into the ground...cuff yourself to the chair: it's a stupid thing to do huh?" and Frank's auspicious return to the criminal underworld: "If any of you are tired of being ripped off by scum like that, you come with me, I'm at the Plaza hotel, you're welcome YOU'RE ALL WELCOME...to join". Walken is King.