Every once in a while, a movie comes along that is championed by a select group of moviegoers, esteemed when most others find it less worthy of reverence. In turn, this group becomes its own little cinematic subculture, one that admires the movie, defending it from outside bashing because it is their own. It both defines the subculture and brings definition to the moviegoers themselves, showing what turns them on, what differentiates their predilections from more popular and/or commercial tastes. If others don’t get what they get out of the movie, then those others should just get out. And, finally, when this line is drawn in the sand, the cult movie is truly born. Walter Hill’s cult classic The Warrior is a prime example of this phenomenon because not only is there a fervent community out there willing to protect it, but the movie itself exhibits an us-against-the-world mentality similar to that of any cult-movie community, ever ready to defend their home turf. And watch out world: yours truly is here to throw down (think West Side Story, but with even more ruthless finger-snapping).

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