HEAT
Big Stars in this film
AL PACINO,ROBERT DENIRO and VAL KILMER
Here come the bandit
There is a sequence at the center of Michael Mann's
"Heat" that illuminates the movie's real subject. As it begins, a Los
Angeles police detective named Hanna (Al Pacino) has been
tracking a high-level thief named McCauley (Robert De Niro) for
days. McCauley is smart and wary and seems impossible to trap. So, one evening,
tailing McCauley's car, Hanna turns on the flashers and pulls him over.
McCauley carefully
shifts the loaded gun he is carrying. He waits in his car. Hanna approaches it
and says, "What do you say I buy you a cup of coffee?" McCauley says
that sounds like a good idea.
he two men sit across
from each other at a Formica table in a diner: Middle-aged, weary, with too
much experience in their lines of work, they know exactly what they represent
to one other, but for this moment of truce they drink their coffee.
McCauley is a
professional thief, skilled and gifted. When Hanna subtly suggests otherwise,
he says, "You see me doing thrill-seeker liquor store holdups with a 'Born
to Lose' tattoo on my chest?" No, says the cop, he doesn't. The
conversation comes to an end. The cop says, "I don't know how to do
anything else." The thief says, "Neither do I." The scene
concentrates the truth of "Heat," which is that these cops and
robbers need each other: They occupy the same space, sealed off from the
mainstream of society, defined by its own rules.
They are enemies, but
in a sense they are more intimate, more involved with each other than with
those who are supposed to be their friends - their women, for example.
The movie's other subject is the women. Two of the key players
in "Heat" have wives, and in the course of the movie, McCauley will
fall in love, which is against his policy. Hanna is working on his third
marriage, with a woman named Justice (Diane Venora), who
is bitter because his job obsesses him: "You live among the remains of
dead people." One of McCauley's crime partners is a thief named Shiherlis
(Val Kilmer), whose
wife is Charlene (Ashley Judd).
McCauley's own policy is never to get involved in anything that
he can't shed in 30 seconds flat. One day in a restaurant he gets into a
conversation with Eady (Amy Brenneman), who
asks him a lot of questions. "Lady," he says to her, "why are
you so interested in what I do?" She is lonely. "I am alone," he
tells her. "I am not lonely." He is in fact the loneliest man in the
world, and soon finds that he needs her.
This is the age-old
conflict in American action pictures, between the man with "man's
work" and the female principal, the woman who wants to tame him, wants him
to stay at home. "Heat," with an uncommonly literate screenplay by
Mann, handles it with insight. The men in his movie are addicted to their
lives. There is a scene where the thieves essentially have all the money they
need. They can retire. McCauley even has a place picked out in New Zealand. But
another job presents itself, and they cannot resist it: "It's the juice.
It's the action." The movie intercuts these introspective scenes with big,
bravura sequences of heists and shoot-outs. It opens with a complicated armored
car robbery involving stolen semis and tow trucks. It continues with a
meticulously conceived bank robbery.
McCauley is the
mastermind. Hanna is the guy assigned to guess his next move.
The cops keep McCauley
and his crew under 24-hour surveillance, and one day follow them to an isolated
warehouse area, where the thieves stand in the middle of a vast space and
McCauley outlines some plan to them. Later, the cops stand in the same place,
trying to figure out what plan the thieves could possibly have had in mind. No
target is anywhere in view. Suddenly Hanna gets it: "You know what they're
looking at? They're looking at us - the LAPD. We just got made." He is
right. McCauley is now on a roof looking at them through a lens, having smoked
out his tail.
De Niro and Pacino,
veterans of so many great films in the crime genre, have by now spent more time
playing cops and thieves than most cops and thieves have. There is always talk
about how actors study people to base their characters on. At this point in
their careers, if Pacino and De Niro go out to study a cop or a robber, it's
likely their subject will have modeled himself on their performances in old
movies. There is absolute precision of effect here, the feeling of roles
assumed instinctively.
What is interesting is
the way Mann tests these roles with the women. The wives and girlfriends in
this movie are always, in a sense, standing at the kitchen door, calling to the
boys to come in from their play. Pacino's wife, played by Venora with a smart
bitterness, is the most unforgiving: She is married to a man who brings corpses
into bed with him in his dreams. Her daughter, rebellious and screwed up, is
getting no fathering from him. Their marriage is a joke, and when he catches
her with another man, she accurately says he forced her to demean herself.
The other women,
played by Judd and Brenneman, are not quite so insightful. They still have some
delusions, although Brenneman, who plays a graphic artist, balks as any modern
woman would when this strange, secretive man expects her to leave her drawing
boards and her computer and follow him to uncertainty in New Zealand.
Michael Mann's writing
and direction elevate this material.
It's not just an
action picture. Above all, the dialogue is complex enough to allow the
characters to say what they're thinking: They are eloquent, insightful,
fanciful, poetic when necessary. They're not trapped with cliches. Of the many
imprisonments possible in our world, one of the worst must be to be
inarticulate - to be unable to tell another person what you really feel. These
characters can do that. Not that it saves them.
Review by : https://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/heat-1995
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