Directed by Katt Shea
Written by Andy Ruben and Katt Shea
Starring:
- Christina Applegate as Dawn
- David Mendenhall as Sy
- Eb Lottimer as Lumley
- Jane Chung as Old Bag Woman
- Starr Andreeff as Policewoman on Horse
- Alexander Folk as Bagley
Rating: 
Streets is the kind of sleazy little B-movie that sneaks up on you. It lures you in with its grimy premise—teenage hooker on the run from a psycho cop—but ends up delivering a surprisingly touching love story soaked in the unclouded glow of early ’90s Los Angeles. Katt Shea directs with just the right mix of grit and sentiment, capturing something oddly poetic in the trashy chaos. Christina Applegate and David Mendenhall shine as the mismatched leads, their sweet, soft-spoken chemistry lighting up a world otherwise drowning in sleaze and danger.
This is classic Corman territory, complete with a villain who’s less a man than a walking embodiment of malevolent energy. Eb Lottimer plays the killer cop like a fusion of a slasher movie stalker and a Terminator on a psychosexual bender. It’s campy, sure, but also scary, because his madness is so unpredictable. Shea keeps things moving at a tight clip, and when the film sticks to the central love story—Applegate’s damaged angel and Mendenhall’s kind-hearted rich kid—it becomes something special. Almost like Bonnie and Clyde crossed with Pretty Woman, if both were set in a world where no one gets a happy ending.
The cinematography deserves serious props. Even with its limited budget, Streets makes L.A. look both gorgeous and hellish. The sunrises and sunsets give everything a golden shimmer, but the city underneath remains cold, cracked, and uncaring. That tension—the way beauty sits on top of rot—is the movie’s best metaphor, and Shea knows it. You can see her wrestling with the genre conventions she’s working inside of, trying to pull something tender out of the chaos.
Yes, it’s an exploitation flick, but one with heart. Shea’s direction reveals a sensitivity to her characters that goes beyond the norm for this kind of movie. She’s not just interested in shocks—she wants us to care. And somehow, we do. The ending doesn’t deliver any big moral payoff, but it feels earned. Sad, unresolved, and just right for the world these characters live in.
Applegate is a revelation here—vulnerable, tough, heartbreaking. She embodies a kind of tragic innocence, a girl caught in a system that sees her as disposable. Mendenhall complements her with a quiet strength. Together, they’re not just the heart of the film—they are the film. Without them, Streets would be just another sleazy curio. With them, it becomes a cult gem with real emotional weight.
