Heat

One of the reasons I finally decided to join Netflix 2 years ago (one of the 5 best decisions I've made in the last 5 years by the way) was that I finally had a way to easily catch up on films that make me think, "Why haven't I seen that already?" Heat has definitely been in that category for some time. Not anymore. Dap to Netflix. (Other films on that list when I joined: Hotel Rwanda, World Trade Center, Gone Baby Gone, Jackie Brown, Zodiac, and Akeelah and the Bee).

Michael Mann's Heat, released in 1995, was a landmark picture because it united two of our country's best and favorite actors to share the screen. That was one of the reasons I had to see it: Al Pacino and Robert De Niro sharing the screen for the first time ever. A movie lover's dream.

And while obviously I would've loved to have seen them share more screen time together (only one scene that matters in this movie, the infamous diner/coffee scene), I felt like what I did get was impressive. If I had been able to see this film in 1995 and been a part of the pre-release hype, I probably would've been disappointed and upset at the lack of quality screen time together.

Fortunately, the film makes up for their being apart with a phenomenal story. Heat is one of the best crime films I have seen in a long time, and even though it is 2 hours and 50 minutes, you never feel like it is a bloated movie. It is one of the most durable films I've seen too. For me, durable means that no matter when you see it, the film holds up and you believe that it can happen in today's world. If you look at early 1930s crime films, they clearly don't hold up in today's world, but if you've ever seen a film like 1959's The Killing, you feel like in many ways that something like that can happen in today's world even though the movie is dated. Heat gave me that same feeling: with the exception of the beepers and Jon Voight's God-awful hairstyle, I embraced the plausibility of this story happening in contemporary society. That's one of the geniuses of the film's writing: it didn't depend on 1995-specific technology or cultural norms to make the plot work.

2 Related Side Tangents:

1. The Killing, one of Stanley Kubrick's first films about 5 guys who decide to rob a racetrack, is not just one of the best crime movies ever; it is also an obvious forerunner to films like Pulp Fiction or Go, where they tell the story out of chronological order. If you liked those movies, go find The Killing. It's worth it.

2. Another film example that fits the durable model: The Fugitive. Yes, they don't use cell phones and the computers in the film are super primitive, but when you watch it you never get the sense the film is dated or that it couldn't happen in today's world. At least I don't. Durable.

Heat does a lot of things right: it captures the spirit of LA, it does a great job of keeping both protagonists' separate stories very interesting, and the overall story keeps you guessing until the end. Of course Pacino and De Niro deliver, but they are surrounded by a really strong supporting cast. I continue to be especially impressed by Mykelti Williamson (for you 24 fans, he was the head of CTU New York this year) and William Fitchner (the bank manager Heath Ledger shoots in the opening scene of The Dark Knight) in anything they appear in. Quality character actors.

This film reminded me of another great crime movie: American Gangster. The similarities are striking: two strong famous lead actors, two separate stories punctuated by a strong scene featuring the two leads, two main characters whose choices and methods almost make them indistinguishable from a moral standpoint, excellent overall story, very solid supporting cast, and fully encapsulates the time and place where the film is set. I've never heard that Heat influenced AG, but honestly, how could it have not?

Christopher Nolan said that this film influenced The Dark Knight, particularly TDK's opening bank robbery scene. If you watch both films, it's easy to see the similarities.

And ultimately, that's why this film is great and worth checking out. When one film begins to impact how other people make their films, you know you've got something special. In Hollywood, imitation is the only form of flattery.