A tragic waste of talent. His early films show wit, imagination and a lightness of touch wholly absent from the sordid exploitation fare he later descended into. ‘Ah, but though eighty percent of his oeuvre is undeniably formulaic pap, is he not Hollywood’s only true auteur?’ In a wry article for the Guardian Guide, scour the Death Wish series for scenes that feature people in restaurants and/or someone running into the back of a new car.
