Heat

When Heat came out in 1995, I was immediately thrilled. The cast: Val Kilmer, Ashley Judd, Tom Sizemore, Tom Noonan, Wes Studi, Danny Trejo (the driver - his more notable rolls have included the TittyTwister's bartender in Dusk 'Till Dawn and the Knife Assassin in Desperado) and, last but not least, the extraordinary pairing of Al Pacino and Robert DeNiro.

The director: Michael Mann, who has done some of the best and most unheralded work of any director currently extant. Manhunter, The Last of the Mohicans, Thief and, most recently, The Insider. He has also created a good deal of original work for television. The most obvious that comes to mind is, of course, Miami Vice. But those of you of a certain age might recall another project he both wrote and directed, a TV movie of extraordinary power entitled The Jericho Mile that aired in 1979. It is still considered to be one of the great made-for-television movies ever produced, and rightfully so. Aside from The Last of the Mohicans, however, his best film is arguably the dark, complicated and hyper-realistic Heat.

"Realism" is a word that has become hitched to "gritty" in recent years, and not to the betterment of the cinema arts. Too many people have been conditioned to associate the idea of realism with bloody violence, and while that certainly is an aspect of realism, its not all of it. Realism encompasses a visual style and plotcraft that try and evoke the world as it is or, perhaps more precisely, how it operates. Good guys fail; bad guys win; the line between the two is blurred; fear can overcome courage, with unexpected results. And then there are the particulars: What happens when heavily armed men open up on other heavily armed men; how far does a car travel when its driver has been killed; how loyal is a spouse facing jail time when they're angry. It is to these details that Mann attends in Heat, and the result is not only one of the most interesting and entertaining films in recent memory, but without a doubt the most realistic.

Take, for example, the film's two set pieces. One is a scene of pure one-on-one dialogue, just acting; the other is a tour-de-force shoot-out that this Epinionator will always rank as the second best ever filmed (I'll give you one guess which one is number one). In the first, Al Pacino's cop is following Robert DeNiro's bank robber. Normally, this would end with some kind of chase; instead, Pacino flashes DeNiro over and asks him if he'd like to go for a cup of coffee. DeNiro agrees. They sit down at a diner and talk, first about niceties, then about their jobs, then about what each will do to the other if either gets in the other's way. What's realistic about this sequence is not just the fact that it fails to end in a chase. No, what has the ring of truth is that both men understand and know each other's type. Pacino is certain - though he can't prove it yet - that DeNiro is the head of a crew that's been hitting banks and armored cars. Asking him for coffee is a spur-of-the-moment way to talk to him without the hassle of bringing him downtown. DeNiro, on the other hand, is so taken aback by the offer that he agrees, and the way he does so suggests he's thinking "Hey, why the hell not? Guy's got nothin' on me." During their conversation in the diner, it becomes apparent that these two guys, in a different life, might be friends. That tone makes it entirely logical - real - for them to open up to one another. But neither harbors any illusions about the other's jobs, hence the veiled threats that end the conversation.

The bank robbery preceeding the shootout is by-the-book for pros: Fast, no unnecessary violence, assurances to the customers that they won't be harmed and that they shouldn't be worried because their money is insured by the FDIC. The crew zips up several huge parcels of cash, each straps one to their back (remember that detail) and hustle out, masks off and guns hidden. They go to the getaway car one at a time, without a fuss. When Val Kilmer's character - who we know by then was in the military - comes out smiling and spots the cops across the street, he doesn't hesitate. He pulls up his M-16 and opens fire, and when he hits one officer in the vest that officer is dead. Why? Because full metal jacket, high-velocity NATO rounds will penetrate standard-issue police body armor. We in the audience don't know this, unless we do, but we accept it because everything in the film up to that point has made sense, been logical, in short, been real. The bank robbers' one-covers-while-the-other-runs getaway strategy, necessary after their driver is shot dead, is a classic move-and-cover tactic, but we're not used to seeing it in this sort of film. Again, it works because by then we've come to expect this level of realism. Last but not least, there is the havoc wreaked on the police and their vehicles by the gang's guns. This is also very realistic, because fully automatic, military grade M-16s of the sort they're carrying would do EXACTLY that to patrol vehicles in the hands of men who know how to use them and are not afraid to. Remember those huge, thick parcels of cash? Stacks of fresh bills are very dense, and as the gang moves down the street it is entirely believable that the cops' 9mm rounds would fail to penetrate both those stacks of bills on their back and the vests they're wearing underneath.

Back to Pacino and DeNiro's duet. You may have noticed my title for this review. I believe it. I wasn't just trying to grab your attention. Watch what Pacino does, the play around his eyes as he communicates the complicated character of the man he's portraying. Then watch DeNiro, who can scarcely smile without looking sardonic and spends most of his time giving Pacino The Look. As much as I hate to say it, DeNiro has been delivering, with some slight modulation, the same performance over and over again for years. He's great at it, of that there's no doubt, but he has nowhere near the emotional range Pacino does, nor the capacity for inhabiting the skins of a variety of types. Don't believe me? Watch any six of their greatest roles back-to-back. Better yet, watch Pacino in Searching for Richard and just try imagining DeNiro pulling that off. Not a chance.

As to the rest of the film, there's a great deal of genuine drama, taken mostly from the tragic fact of how the lives of such men as these ultimately end up. Ashley Judd is especially good as Val Kilmer's wife, an obviously independent woman torn between her desire for a better life and her loyalty to and love for her husband. You also get an intriguing glimpse into the sub-culture of matter-of-fact criminality and its hidden infrastructure, like the guy you can go to for floor plans, or the one who lost his medical license but has a "practice" repairing wounded robbers away from prying eyes.

The film is a bit too long, and the ending a bit too redolent of macho sentiment, but so what? On the whole it is an astonishing achievement, beautifully photographed, well-paced and, obviously, incredibly well acted. I recommend this film for a Friday or Saturday night when you've got nothing better to do, but still want the evening to be special. Trust me, if you watch this film it will.

And now, last but not least, a bit of remarkable trivia for you cineastes. The entire plot of this film, including, almost verbatim, the scene and dialogue between Pacino and DeNiro, was lifted by Mann from a TV movie he wrote and directed in 1989 called LA Takedown. I'm not sure how many people know this, but its true. You might be able to order the film, if its available on tape, or rent it. If you do, make sure its after you've seen Heat.