“Detroit 9000” (1973)

Action

Running Time: 106 minutes

Written by: Orville H. Hampton

Directed by: Arthur Marks

Featuring: Alex Rocco, Hari Rhodes, Vonetta McGee, Herbert Jefferson Jr. and Ella Edwards

TAGLINE: “Only cops with fast fists and fiery 45’s answer “POLICE-CALL 9000!””

“Detroit 9000” (1973), directed by Arthur Marks, is a fascinating and often gritty entry into the blaxploitation canon that transcends some of the genre’s typical confines. While it certainly delivers on the expected action, car chases, and a funky soundtrack, it also attempts to grapple with deeper themes of race, corruption, and the social fabric of early 1970s Detroit.

The film centers around the investigation of a high-stakes robbery: $400,000 stolen from a charity and political fundraiser for Aubrey Hale Clayton (Rudy Challenger), a black gubernatorial candidate. The Detroit Police Department, under immense pressure due to racial tensions in the city, assigns an unlikely duo to the case: the cynical and street-smart white Lieutenant Danny Bassett (Alex Rocco) and the educated, principled black Sergeant Jesse Williams (Hari Rhodes). Their strained partnership forms the backbone of the narrative, highlighting the racial divide and prejudices that permeate not just the city, but even within the police force itself.

What sets “Detroit 9000” apart from some of its contemporaries is its ambition to be more than just a typical cop flick. While it doesn’t always succeed in fully fleshing out its more serious intentions, it undeniably tries. Roger Ebert, in his 1973 review, noted that the film “occasionally tries to rise above its genre but doesn’t quite make it. Maybe it would have worked better if it hadn’t tried so hard.” This sentiment captures the film’s dual nature: it’s a genre picture at heart, but it also yearns for a deeper resonance.

The racial dynamics are explicitly explored, often through the sharp dialogue between Bassett and Williams, and even in the interactions Bassett has with his mentally disturbed, racist wife. The film doesn’t shy away from using racially charged language, reflecting the harsh realities of the time. This frankness, while potentially jarring to modern audiences, contributes to the film’s raw and authentic feel. The question of whether the heist was a white-on-black crime or a black-on-black crime is a recurring tension point, reflecting the anxieties of a city grappling with its identity.

Despite its thematic aspirations, “Detroit 9000” still delivers ample action. The film is packed with numerous chase scenes – car, boat, and foot – and frequent shoot-outs. While some critics, like Ebert, found these repetitive, they undeniably contribute to the film’s energetic, grindhouse aesthetic. The location photography, showcasing the inner city of Detroit, adds a layer of authenticity and atmosphere that grounds the more outlandish moments.

The performances are a key strength. Alex Rocco as Lt. Bassett is particularly praised for his “easy, cynical charm” and weary demeanor, offering a refreshing departure from typical matinee-idol cop portrayals. Hari Rhodes as Sgt. Williams provides a strong counterpoint, embodying a more sophisticated and righteous approach to policing. Supporting performances by Vonetta McGee as Roby and the legendary Scatman Crothers as Reverend Markham also add color and depth to the ensemble.

“Detroit 9000” gained renewed attention thanks to Quentin Tarantino, who, through his Rolling Thunder Pictures distribution company, re-released the film in 1998. Tarantino’s endorsement, a testament to his love for cult and exploitation cinema, helped introduce the film to a new generation of viewers who might have otherwise overlooked it. This re-evaluation has led some to consider it an underrated gem within the blaxploitation movement, seeing its attempts at social commentary as a positive rather than a detraction.

Ultimately, “Detroit 9000” is a fascinating product of its time. It’s a rough-around-the-edges crime thriller that straddles the line between exploitative entertainment and a genuine attempt at social commentary. While its narrative can sometimes feel disjointed and its deeper themes not fully explored, its raw energy, memorable performances, and unflinching depiction of racial tensions make it a compelling watch for fans of vintage grindhouse cinema and those interested in the cultural landscape of the early 1970s. It remains a significant, if imperfect, piece of American cinematic history.