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A group of professional bank robbers start to feel the heat from police when they unknowingly leave a clue at their latest heist.
“Don’t let yourself get attached to anything you are not willing to walk out on in 30 seconds flat if you feel the heat around the corner.”
Say what you like about Michael Mann’s recent string of misfires, but, in a swarm of lookalikes, the director remains a true auteur. That said, his career did peak over 20 years ago, with the 1995 soulful crime drama “Heat”. Throughout the 1980s, Mann’s work in TV (“Miami Vice,” “Crime Story”) and film (“Thief,” “The Keep,” “Manhunter”) served as creative workouts that led to the instant-classic. The director gained confidence, increased his scope while narrowing down on his recognizable style: cold, neo-noir-ish, gritty/violent character studies, basked in frigid blues and blurry browns, with slim sociopolitical currents slithering through them. He’s never married style and content as successfully as he did in “Heat.”
Based on his own 1989 TV pilot, which in turn was based on a true story, “Heat” is built on contrasts – between good and evil, monochrome light and shadowy darkness, aching tenderness and brutal violence, sweat dripping off the nose of a wounded criminal and the visible breath of a half-frozen cop. The film juxtaposes its two polar opposite protagonists: Al Pacino’s aging Lieutenant Hanna, whose private life is in shambles, and notorious robber Neil McCauley, “alone but not lonely,” on the brink of escaping to Fiji with his newfound love, Eady (Amy Brenneman). They both seek redemption, each other’s dark mirror reflections. There is an inherent understanding between them, yet it’s in their blood to do what they do best – a cat will never stop chasing a mouse. Both of the worlds those characters inhabit are appalling and seductive in equal measures, and Mann has Hitchcockian fun playing with conventions and having those worlds collide.
After a particularly elaborate bank heist gone awry, the heat closes down fast on McCauley and his gang of robbers. McCauley’s right arm, Shiherlis (Val Kilmer), gets wounded, one thing leads to another – and to their eventual downfall. “Heat”’s simple tale is one as old as time, touching upon eternal themes of loyalty, regret, and obsession. Like “Lawrence of Arabia” or “No Country for Old Men,” a tale such as this doesn’t need to be overly complex. At almost three hours, it moves swiftly, confidently, taking the time to flex its muscles, flesh out its characters, build the tension, revel in its own meticulously-structured sequences. And meticulous they are: Mann reportedly spent seven months riding along with the LAPD in preparation for the film.
Pacino delivers an astoundingly touching (and hilarious!) performance, one of fading resilience and strength; out of touch with humanity, lost in this constantly evolving world, Hanna clings to one thing he knows best, his gun. De Niro does his usual shtick, but let’s face it – he does it best, the whole “steely-demeanor-with-hints-of-kindness” thing. The trio of Pacino/De Niro/Kilmer get stellar support from a remarkable roster of talent Mann managed to put together: Jon Voight, Ashley Judd, Amy Brenneman, Tom Sizemore, Mykelti Williamson, Dennis Haysbert, Natalie Portman (in her second screen role!), Tom Noonan, Hank Azaria, Ted Levine, Wes Studi, Danny Trejo… Even the small parts are memorable: who could forget the heartrending sequence, with Ashley Judd’s loyal Charlene exchanging one last despondent look with husband Chris out of a bedroom window – a brief glance that speaks volumes.
Speaking of volumes, how about that epic, 10-minute shoot-out, orchestrated by maestro Mann with ear-deafening gusto, where geysers of bullets are sprayed, and which, at the time of writing this, has been YouTubed almost six million times. The sequence was so accurately portrayed, with the actors undergoing three months of rigorous firearm training, it caused real robbers to attempt to replicate it and allegedly inspired the 1997 North Hollywood shootout.
And of course, there is THAT coffee shop scene. “I do what I do best, I take scores,” McCauley nonchalantly says, as he sips on his cuppa. “You do what you do best, try to stop guys like me.” Today, one would barely wink at De Niro and Pacino sharing the screen, but in 1995, this was Don Corleone having a cup of coffee with Jake La Motta, for the first time – and the chemistry was so electric, sparks were actually known to injure audience members. Creating such an impact in less than 10 minutes, in a film spanning 170+ minutes, is no small feat.
With several exceptions (Natalie Portman, Dennis Haysbert), “Heat” marked the beginning of the end of the careers of mostly everyone involved. De Niro had a few decent-to-good ‘uns left in him – “Wag the Dog,” “Great Expectations,” “Ronin,” “Analyze This” – before slipping rapidly into cinematic hell, the gates of which were unlocked by Rocky & Bullwinkle and are still held wide open by Dirty Grandpa’s Hands of Stone.
Similarly, after a final leftover streak of memorable titles like “Donnie Brasco,” “The Devil’s Advocate,” and “Insomnia,” Pacino must have switched agents, or for some mysterious reason ceased to recognize good scripts, blemishing his incredible career with crap like “Gigli,” “88 Minutes,” and, worst of all, “Jack and Jill.” Lately, both actors seem desperate to return to their glory days, the former chewing scenery in the second-rate “The King of Comedy,” a.k.a. “The Comedian,” the latter slumming it in the morose “Danny Collins.” Echoes of that glory can be glimpsed in their eyes, mere remnants of that greatness – and yet this just proves the adage: one has to know when to quit.
As for Val Kilmer, he decided not to hold off and immediately plummet straight into the abyss, with the triple-punch of “The Island of Dr. Moreau,” “The Ghost and the Darkness,” and “The Saint,” followed by an avalanche of non-stop dreck: “At First Sight,” “Red Planet,” “Hard Cash,” “Mindhunters,” “Wyatt Earp’s Revenge”… The list goes on – and yet, despite the slew of horrid titles, a capable director may just resuscitate his career (the man’s still got chops, judging by his knockout live “Mark Twain” performance).
Ashley Judd, as much as I love her (the gorgeous actress exudes a sophistication and charm one – and by “one”, I mean “I” – cannot ignore), and yet, aside from carrying William Friedkin’s mind-fuck “Bug” and appearing briefly, albeit vividly, in Julie Taymor’s “Frida,” I struggle to think of a single film that lived up to the actress’ clear potential. As for Tom Sizemore… the epic demise of his career is worthy of a film – aptly named “Heat” – itself.
So it seems, Michael Mann managed to assemble the “avengers” for one last, gargantuan smackdown. He himself never managed to top the pure ambition, razor-sharp precision and inspiration smoldering in “Heat” – certainly not with the meandering “The Insider,” which reunited him with Pacino, to a much lesser impact. I know the film got praised, but honestly, do you ever hear anyone go, “let’s do an ‘Insider’ night this Friday’?” No, because that finger-wagging nag of a film evaporated from public consciousness a year after all the praise died off, “Monster’s Ball”-style.
By then Mann was busy tidying up his Muhammad Ali biopic, creatively titled “Ali,” which ended up awkwardly paced and, despite the awards and nominations, dissolved into that same murky ether left by the cigarette smoke of “The Insider.” “Collateral,” “Miami Vice,” and “Public Enemies” were oddly stiff affairs, with two-dimensional characters mumbling monotone dialogue, style presiding over substance. His latest flick, the hacker thriller “Blackhat,” proved so alienating, it made a measly $7 million domestically, losing over ten times that amount in the process.
I think I made my point here. “Heat” marks the zenith prior to the nadir of (mostly) everyone involved, and I use the term “(mostly) everyone” liberally – production designer Neil Spisak, for example, went on to pursue a wildly successful career slinging webs for Spider-Man. At the very least, those who creatively struggled after “Heat” can confidently state that they “went out with a bang.” Cloaked in neo-noir shadows, paced like a bullet, bristling with dynamite dialogue, both gripping and emotional, “Heat,” akin to “Pulp Fiction” and “The Usual Suspects,” is a seminal 1990s crime flick that deserves to be re-watched, its nuances coming vividly to life with multiple viewings. Christopher Nolan, for example, saw it many times, citing it as the defining influence on “The Dark Knight.” Despite its director’s trademark cold stylistic flourishes, “Heat” generates enough of it to melt Mr. Freeze and his entire headquarters in one the next inevitable Batman iterations – which will mark Kilmer’s return as the now-aging masked crusader, facing off against De Niro’s cryogenically-frozen icicle dude.
Available on an all-new Director’s Definitive Edition Blu-ray, DVD & Digital HD May 9th
