Review
Vice Squad hits the streets running and never slows down, a neon-streaked, blood-pumping descent into the underbelly of Los Angeles after dark. This is not the city of postcards, it is a world of hustlers, predators, and survivors, all locked in a desperate dance where the stakes are life and death. At the center of it all is Princess, a streetwise sex worker with a sharp tongue and a survival instinct that could cut glass. When she witnesses a brutal murder committed by the psychotic pimp known as Ramrod, she is pulled into a whirlwind of danger and deceit that plays out in real time, from sundown to sunrise. Every minute counts, every street corner could be a trap, and every shadow could hide her killer. Ramrod is one of exploitation cinema's most terrifying villains, a predator with a steel nerve and a sadistic streak that makes your skin crawl. His pursuit of Princess is relentless, turning the city into a concrete jungle where the prey has nowhere to hide. The film moves like a shot of adrenaline, driven by a pounding score and a relentless pace. The camera prowls the streets, capturing the grit and neon glow of early 80s L.A. with documentary-level realism. Fistfights, car chases, and sudden bursts of violence keep the tension high, while moments of human tenderness remind you that even in the darkest corners, flickers of hope remain. Vice Squad is a textbook in urban exploitation filmmaking, equal parts thriller, action, and sleaze, with characters so vivid you can almost smell the cigarette smoke and sweat. It is a dangerous ride through a city that eats the weak alive, and it never lets you forget that the sunrise might come too late.