The 10 Worst Gang Member Cliches In Movies

In theaters today, End of Watch certainly has a lot going for it. Written and directed by crime thriller expert David Ayer (who penned the Training Day screenplay and helmed Christian Bale's 2006 cop flick Harsh Times), the new found-footage action pic follows a pair of likable, charismatic LAPD police officers (played by Jake Gyllenhaal and Michael Peña) as they run afoul of a drug cartel and a bunch of hired-gun Latino gangbangers. The shootouts are in-your-face and visceral, Gyllenhaal and Peña both give first-rate performances, and the tension mounts to a surprising, brave, and downbeat conclusion.

By no means a rousing success, End of Watch would be far greater in its enjoyment if not for the aforementioned Latino gangbangers. For no good reason, Ayer spends large chunks of time with the obnoxious and thinly written criminals, having them tape insufferable car rides full of obvious profanity that only point out just how poorly conceived the film's bad guy characters are—unfortunately, it's a deal-breaker.

Since all of his films revolve around street thugs and the lawmen who track them down, Ayer must be well-versed in cinema's long history of depicting urban gangsters, so it's a shame that End of Watch ultimately downgrades itself through stereotypical tropes. If only Ayer had the following list of The 10 Worst Gang Member Clichés In Movies to study before writing his latest cops-and-hoodlums flick.

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Written by Matt Barone (@MBarone)

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Notable examples: South Central (1992), American History X (1998)

Unless you're writing for Breaking Bad's Walter White (Bryan Cranston), at this point, it's probably wise to avoid having your primary antagonist play on an underling's emotions and insecurities to benefit his or her own well-being. True, Breaking Bad, and its brilliant manipulations of poor Jesse Pinkman (Aaron Paul), isn't the first piece of pulp fiction to feature a deviously skilled baddie—films like South Central and American History X were doing the whole boss-negatively-influences-his-favorite-lackey thing back in the 1990s.

For a change, it'd be great to see a crime boss, or even a merely entrepreneurial Blood or Crip frontman, oversee his crew without to the same old mind games that have been in vogue since the B.C. days of Sun Tzu.

Notable examples: Menace II Society (1993), Jason's Lyric (1994)

You know why Juice, though not a "gang member movie," is one of the best "hood" flicks of all time? Amongst other strong components, the filmmakers were confident enough in the four main characters' relationships and in-the-street struggles that they didn't feel any need to distract with a romantic subplot. Sure, Q (Omar Epps) has a girlfriend, but she's basically a non-factor.

As much as we like Jada Pinkett's performance in Menace II Society, it's impossible to overlook the fact that she's only there to act as a mushy diversion. Gangsters need love, too, of course, but there's a time and a place for stories about love in the time of urban stress. Makes you appreciate the to-the-point romance Poetic Justice a little more, doesn't it?

Especially when the female's purpose is little more than to be the provider of a "way out." Unable to realize that their neighborhood is bad news on their own, the most clichéd gangbangers in movies typically need a woman's touch to point out the obvious. One doesn't need to be a chauvinist to know that's poppycock.

Notable examples: Boyz N the Hood (1991), Menace II Society (1993), American History X (1998)

Help comes in many forms, especially in movies about people heading into downward spirals marked by violence and death. The potential savior can be a schoolteacher, or sympathetic police officer; in some cases, like Honey, with Lil Romeo playing a youngster being pulled into the darkside by drug dealers, the rescuer can even be a sexy lady with killer dance movies. And, unfortunately, there's always the chance that it's a preachy stock character who seems incapable of speaking in any language other than "dead prez." Or, in a film like American History X, "Kirk Cameron."

Notable examples: Sin Nombre (2009), End of Watch (2012)

Granted, a trip to East Los Angeles' Vatos neighborhoods will show that gang members flaunting their elaborate, usually black-tinted body art are a dime a dozen in real life. Which makes it all the more commonplace and unimaginative when directors ask their gangbanger extras, the ones flanking around the primary troublemaker, to take those shirts off and show off the tats.

It's the first direction found in the How To Make People Think Your Character Is A Gangbanger Without Even Trying instructional manual, right before, "Have them drive around in an Impala or a Lincoln Town Car," and, "Have the chinos sag beneath their boxer tops."

Notable examples: South Central (1992), American History X (1998)

Without the "reformed gang member" characters, movies of this variety would seem exceptionally bleak. There'd be no proverbial light at the end of the tunnel—sorry, gangbanger, but you're doomed to either spend the rest of your life dodging bullets or rotting away in a prison cell.

Seeing the return of a veteran criminal who's bettered his- or herself gives everyone else hope, but it also trolls for compassion and inevitably leads to one of three conclusions: The changed man (or woman) will eventually die, he and the person he's trying to save will die, or they'll both live happily ever after. Hollywood's filmmakers haven't been able to come up with an innovative fourth option yet.

Notable examples: South Central (1992), Menace II Society (1993), Deuces Wild (2002), Honey (2003), A Better Life (2011)

When the majority of a film's adult characters are wayward souls looking down gun barrels, it's understandable that the younger characters would either try to follow in their footsteps or languish in turmoil without any positive role models. Oftentimes, though, that narrative device feels gratuitous, so obviously designed to give at least one criminal character a sense of vulnerability to which all audience members can relate.

Who wouldn't root for the guy who puts the gun down and holds the kid's hand? Even if that kid is Frankie Muñiz (see: Deuces Wild). Hopefully, the same people intelligent enough to spot a cheap ploy for empathy when they see one.

Notable examples: Colors (1988), Boyz N the Hood (1991), Menace II Society (1993)

It's bad enough that a large number rappers can't be bothered to think creatively when it comes to monikers. Whether it's Young This or Lil' That, the overabundance of familiar music industry names has made simpler ones like Joell Ortiz, J. Cole, and Joe Budden seem, well, visionary.

In the same breath, screenwriters hoping to dub their film's most dangerous gangsters with catchy, street-cred-needing names have, over the years, looked at the likes of Snoop Dogg and Nate Dogg for inspiration. Thus, we've seen a Dog Man (Colors), an O-Dog (Menace II Society), and a Mad Dog (Boyz N the Hood), and it's only a matter of time before there's a Bad Dog or a Crazy Dog sporting some checkered, collared plaid duds and pointing a glock sideways.

Lazy filmmakers are always screwing the pooch, one way or another.

Notable examples: Boyz N the Hood (1991), Menace II Society (1993), Above the Rim (1994), 187 (1997), Baby Boy (2001), Training Day (2001)

The intention behind stunt casting is obvious: Put a major celebrity in a project that'd normally be out of his or her comfort zone, like, say, a recording artist trying to act, and said major celeb's fans will show up, whip out cash, and help turn profits. However, doing so with rappers for movies about gang members tends to come across as not only business savvy but also as a desperate move for credibility.

It's a move that reeks of a studio executive saying, "Rather than cast a professional actor, let's just find the hottest rapper we can—they'll definitely know about being a gangster!" Fortunately, guys like Ice Cube (Boyz n the Hood), MC Eiht (Menace II Society), and Tupac Shakur (Above the Rim) have the chops and charisma to pull off the roles, but anyone who's seen the Mack 10/Fat Joe stinker Thicker Than Water knows what the flipside of that can look like.

Notable examples: Baby Boy (2001), Havoc (2005), Sin Nombre (2009)

To emphasize just how disreputable a gangbanger character is, screenwriters often have them bust guns, stomp the shit out of some poor fools, or flee from angry cops. All of which, mind you, clearly gets the point across.

So what's the need for some extracurricular activities at home that involve pimp-slapping the female love interest, verbally degrading her, and, in the worst possible cases, raping her? Oh, that's right: It allows the protagonist (Tyrese in Baby Boy, for example) to save the day and win the popular women's vote within the audience.

Notable examples: Boyz n the Hood (1991), Above the Rim (1994)

As it's been made evident throughout the preceding entries in this list, the biggest narrative hook in films centered on gang members is the do-or-die question of, "How can I escape from this life?" Sometimes, it's the pretty-young-thing who presents the opportunity to hop in a car, drive off into the sunset, and leave the streets behind while smacking backs in a new, unfamiliar locale; other times, it's through the uplifting and eye-opening words of a dime-store preacher or a guy who's been to hell and has come back a better person. And compared to the most egregious source of salvation, those methods are wonderful.

When telling a story about inner-city kids trying to resist illegal temptations, the laziest possible solution is to stick a basketball or football in their hands and allude to the promise of NBA or NFL aspirations. Why not the love of computers? Or hopes of becoming a New York Times best-seller? Besides, Hoop Dreams already covered that ground with amazing results.