The fact that “The Hard Way” is antithetical to “The Godfather” is quite obvious and noticed by almost everyone who seriously writes about one of the most appreciated by critics, but not too well known among our general public works of animation. Indeed, there is no quasi-epic narrative here. Bakshi unusually sarcastically and harshly tells the story of a young bogey Michael Corleone (yes, Corleone), that if he has certain artistic inclinations, then gradually more and more corresponds to the cruotic norm that is prescribed to everyone without exception on the “evil streets” of the metropolis. If it's the Godfather, it's without any literature. That is, this is a plot about a kind of career growth, which actually ends approximately where the foreword from Puzo and Coppola begins.
In fact, the cultural background of the tape is very wide. It is a thrashing combination of noir stories with episodes in the spirit of “exploitation”, multiplied by the constant presence of the very spirit of pop art (but not the ironically tired pop art “Factory”, but pop art inappropriate, only emphasizing the grotesque abnormality of the world “bottom”) and a straightforward post-apocalyptic parable drawn by Michael and taken to the grave caricature, breathing incense senile scarecrow of “decent” animation. Michael, of course, is typologically close to Alex Burgess. Only that's the opposite of Coppola again this time. Bakshi’s world is dirty and ugly, with nothing to aestheticize. And no one is going to mess with Michael-Alex: the entire judicial and correctional ceremony of “Clockwork Orange” is replaced here by a simple collision of the main character’s relationship with a disabled bouncer, which begins and ends quite novelistically.
The lack of budget gave rise to one of the main advantages of the film. The director solves many scenes, placing the painted characters on the photographic and picturesque background of New York. Pay attention to the episode, where the film is completely sarcastically embedded in the notorious “Midnighters” Hopper.
By deconstructing gangster sagas and demythologizing the city of skyscrapers, Bakashi achieves a very strong effect. The plot, which in the retelling pulls on a bewildering novel, grows into a hyperrealistic monster that destroys the classical image of the American metropolis worse than any King Kong. The space of violence and hatred in Bakshi is total, because it is located not just on the streets or apartments, but is written in the very consciousness, even in the minds of those who, at first glance, are different from their environment.