
Gordon Parks was a true American renaissance man; a photographer, novelist, musician, poet, journalist and, most of all, a film director. At 57, an age when most directors have lost their fire, Parks directed his first feature film, “The Learning Tree,” based on his own autobiographical novel. Then, two years later, came the seminal “Shaft,” a groundbreaking urban action film and detective noir that was so electrifying and original it helped to kick-start a genre known as blaxploitation.

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There’s no denying that Ernest Tidyman’s tough, tight script; Richard Roundtree’s incredible starpower, and Isaac Hayes’ Oscar-winning score all contributed to the creation of this landmark, but the most impressive element of “Shaft” is the maestro behind it. The direction is hands-down brilliant and that Parks’ career as a feature director was cut short over a single flop (1976’s “Leadbelly”), is one of the damndest shames in cinema history.
Thankfully, though, Parks also left us with two other near-classics: 1972’s “Shaft’s Big Score” and one of the most under-appreciated films of the ’70s — 1974’s “The Super Cops.” For years I’ve been howling for a DVD release of “Super Cops” and now, thanks to an indispensible service known as Warner Archives, it is finally available to a world ready to appreciate it.
This is one of those gems I discovered as a wayward youth who regularly snuck into the downtown theatres that played what we now call grinders — low budget, exploitation, urban actioners filled with sex, violence, and a fig leaf of a social conscience. Most of them were forgettable, but every once in a while — oh, man.
Besides Parks’ spectacular direction, what makes the “The Super Cops” so entertaining is The Great Ron Leibman’s fantastically energetic portrayal of Dave Greenberg, a rookie police officer who wears a smile and constantly cracks wise in order to (barely) cover up his simmering rage and indignation at the stupidity, indifference, and injustice all around him. Greenberg is a good man who just wants to do his job because he understands that nothing destroys the lives of America’s poor more than the criminal element who prey on them.

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While still in the academy, Greenberg meets Rob Hantz (David Selby), another rookie who shares his energy, values, and idealism. Though they have yet to officially graduate, the two men decide to begin their partnership in crime-fighting on their own time, starting with a Coney Island drug bust. As a result, instead of being congratulated for their initiative, Greenberg and Hantz are disciplined, shunned by other police officers, and given a harsh lesson they will never forget in how government bureaucracy breeds corruption and complacency.
After graduation, and as punishment, Greenberg and Hantz are assigned to the Brooklyn neighborhood of Bedford-Stuyvesant, a forgotten, crime-ridden ghetto where the black community doesn’t trust the white police department charged with protecting them — and for good reason. The cops are either on the take or doing the minimum as the clock ticks down to a pension.
Bed-Stuy ends up being Greenberg and Hantz’s briar patch, though, the perfect environment for them to do the good they are so desperate to do. Shunned as outsiders and do-gooders in their own precinct, on the clock, they’re harassed and buried with pointless and punishing duties. But off the clock they become the community’s Batman and Robin — a nickname they earn for being brave, selfless crime-fighters who think outside the box and actually start to make a difference.
Though the film is undeniably exciting and contains a number of memorable action sequences (one set inside a building being demolished), the theme is what stays with you, and that’s that if you’re smart and driven and give enough of a damn, nothing can stop you.
Parks mostly shot on-location, which captures the era and environment in that way that only ’70’s movies can, and this is also the rare opportunity to feast your eyes on Sheila Frazier, a stunner who plays Sara, a prostitute Greenberg immediately finds himself smitten with (and what an entrance! — see the clip below). This subplot is not only tender, but Sara also represents the conscience of this community, the symbol of who Batman and Robin will have to prove themselves to in order to be trusted and respected.

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The true genius of director Parks is on display in the film’s opening scene (second clip above). “The Super Cops” is based on a true story. Greenberg and Hantz were not only real cops but they both have speaking roles as detectives who regularly antagonize our heroes (William Friedkin did something similar in 1971’s “The French Connection”). But in a brilliant sleight-of-hand, Parks opens his film with actual news conference footage of the two men being rewarded and recognized for their police work. I’m not going to spoil it, but the way in which this pays off in the end is genius. Parks messes with your expectations, which leaves you feeling sucker-punched (in a good way).
What really shines through, though, and makes the story so appealing, is the sense of can-do optimism that drives our protagonists (especially Greenberg). Their refusal to give in or to surrender to the slow-moving, cold and indifferent Machine is infectious. Both men are incorruptible (sadly, that wasn’t the case in real life) and with sharp wisecracks backed by a knowing smile, they always find a way — and not just to get their man but also to get the system moving.
“The Super Cops” is really an origin story — what would normally be the first act of a conventional film (a number of plot threads are intentionally left hanging, including the love story). But Parks pulls this off. When the credits roll, you actually like the idea of knowing that the real story, the second act, is being played out somewhere. Thus, you’re left with the satisfying and exhilarating sense that, despite all the corruption and adversity, our indomitable heroes are right now out there doing what heroes do.
“The SuperCops” is available at the Warner Archives.
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