My memory of this movie (which I saw on video in the late 80s) was that it was a fantastic example of 80s/Michael Cimino controlled excess - or, that it rocked, along the lines of To Live and Die in L.A. (which, to my mind, is a preeminent movie from any era, but a particularly gorgeous 80s gem). How sad to have been initially excited to find YOTD on DVD at Target, buy it, wait for the perfect moment to watch it, and then...to realize my memory was more gauze-wrapped and imperfect than I'd ever want to admit. For YOTD was a serious, unqualified letdown.
Why? Pretty simple answer: obvious, wholesale editing, undoubtedly to trim a studio- ordered "too long" length, that's why. Certain characters remain on the periphery and are never fleshed out (the portly and thoroughly unattractive - in ever way - police partner of Mickey Rourke, for example), bizarre appendages that don't help the plot at all; scenes that stretch credulity over coals and are literally impossible to believe (the takeover of Ariane's apartment by Rourke and his two pals; what the hell led to this?); the obviously important marriage/breakup of Rourke's character, with his wife acting 100% unnatural and unbelievable almost the whole time (any scene involving Rourke and his wife are the dictionary definition of "truncated'); and the lurching incoherence that simply owns the film at, oh, 45 minutes or so in. And what's utterly frustrating is this: every actor is in fine form; every scene is beautifully shot; and there's enough of a story and plot line present that it seems ludicrous to blame Oliver Stone's script - Oliver Stone, who'd direct Platoon a year later and who had the screenplay for Midnight Express already under his belt. No, there are assuredly yards and yards of film somewhere, slowly rotting puzzle pieces, that flesh YOTD out proper and render it the glorious epic Cimino wanted. But you can bet some studio exec got the bright idea people wouldn't want to sit for 3.5 or 4 hours, so...well, that's the oldest story in the world, isn't it? Or, at least, the oldest story in Hollywood.
In summation: YOTD is the saddest sort of film - a hobbling thing, a dysfunctional-but- gorgeous-at-times handicapped epic, blighted by cruel scissors, dead on arrival. And even though almost every character in this film is repugnant, it's even more repugnant to cut their legs off and ask them to walk. I hope the actors were angry about that. You just know Michael Cimino was.