Michael Winner stopped making films some time ago and became a professional rent-a-celeb, boulevardier and occasional restaurant critic, largely because his last few movies stank. But there was a time when the redoubtable friend of the stars was capable of better things, and DEATH WISH is proof that Winner once had some degree of talent. A talent untroubled by considerations of subtlety, good taste and understatement, but talent nonetheless. DEATH WISH tells the story of Paul Kersey (a fine performance from the late Charles Bronson), a happily-married architect returning from a second honeymoon with his wife to the scum-encrusted toilet that was New York City circa 1974. Most directors make the viewer wait at least twenty minutes before hitting them with their first jolt of adrenalin-rushing excitement, but Winner can't wait that long, so within the first ten minutes we see Kersey's wife and daughter attacked and raped in their own apartment by three drugged-out hooligans. Even thirty years down the line, it's a genuinely shocking scene; not even the presence of Jeff Goldblum as one of the most reprehensible and hateful thugs ever to smear a screen can diminish its impact. Kersey's wife dies and his daughter slips into a traumatized catatonic state (look quickly for Marshall Anker, the dumb sheriff from LAST HOUSE ON THE LEFT during the snowbound funeral scene), prompting him to take a job in Tuscon to take his mind off things. In Tuscon, he meets up with a good-ole-boy property developer who invites him down to the gun club where Kersey turns out to be something of a sharp-shooter. Suitably impressed, the redneck presents Kersey with the parting gift of a handgun, which comes in useful during the second half of the film, during which the vengeance-crazed architect sets himself up as an easy target for muggers, only to wipe them out the moment things get nasty.<br /><br />DEATH WISH reads like simple, gut-level exploitation, and to a large extent that's exactly what it is, but Bronson's subtle, believable performance, the well-drawn characters, the effective NYC location shooting, Arthur Ornitz's grimy photography and Winner's knack for snappy action sequences help to rise the film above the sum of its parts and make it a minor classic. There's a lot of black humour on offer, some of which works (Vincent Gardenia's performance as the downtrodden, headcold-harbouring detective is always amusing), but some of which - such as the nose-picking hookers and the minor character whose dog "paints such marvellous pictures with his paws" - are simply perplexing. Above all else, DEATH WISH is a highly effective mood piece, the kind of film that goes down well after a hard day, as a reminder that somebody is always worse off than yourself, or as an escape valve for all your guilty fantasies about slaughtering whichever inconsiderate lout stole your parking space or your seat on the bus. For that reason alone, DEATH WISH belongs in your video collection as a very guilty pleasure.