Heat (1995)
For many people, Heat is one of the greatest heist films ever made - and even one of the greatest crime films ever made. It’s easily Michael Mann’s most popular and highest-acclaimed film, even if it wasn’t nominated for a single Academy Award (not that it really means much anymore). With its immaculately designed action sequences and its deep world building, it is no surprise the film was a hit. Mann takes the classic action formula and adds his own stylistic flourishes and focuses on character development. Whilst Heat is almost certainly on the surface a film about heists, the film is really a deep character study about obsessions and seclusion.
In David Cronenberg’s Crash, the story focuses on an underground group who have all become addicted to the fetishisation of car crashes and automobile destruction. While at first the film simply reads as a strangely horny film about people who are sexually stimulated by the collision of cars, it’s actually full of wandering individuals who are all suffering with a deep trauma caused by vehicular accidents they were involved in. Like in Crash, the actions the characters do are only an agent that carries the key message; the deeper subtext lies in the fact the characters in both films are about people eternally searching for meaning in their life. Our characters in Heat can only find meaning in a typically ‘non-normal’ life, played out to the extremes, against the traditional life of the American nuclear family, even if they know this life cannot last forever.
Heat’s two main characters, Neil McCauley and Vincent Hanna, played by De Niro and Pacino respectively, are two dialectical people. One cannot exist without the other, but both exist in a simultaneous contradiction. McCauley is a master thief, he knows how to do nothing else and finds little enjoyment in a so called ‘normal’ life; his expertise has come at the cost of a lifetime of isolation turning him into maybe the loneliest character De Niro has ever played (which is saying something). Likewise, Hanna is an overly dedicated and excellent detective, his third marriage slowly crumbling because of his obsession with his career.
Many critics and fans have come to the accurate conclusion that both characters - while theoretically moralistic opposites - respect each other's dedication for their respective jobs. In my opinion this doesn’t really go deep enough. Both characters don’t only respect each other, they are each seemingly the only other person who actually understands them on a genuine personal level, as is shown in the famous coffee scene where the two converse. One moment in particular is this exchange between Vincent and McCauley respectively
“I don’t know how to do anything else”“Neither do I”
“I don’t much want to either”
They then both wearily smile at each other, fully understanding what makes them so similar. Surrounded by people who don’t fully understand their feelings or desires, the two find solace in each other. Two lonely stars drifting along the ethereal dreamscape of LA, no longer knowing their place in the world or how to live another life.
Mann’s extensive use of blue and various other cold colours display Los Angeles as a world of inherent sorrow. Early on in the film we have a scene where McCauley arrives at his apartment, a barren place with little to no furniture - why would he need it? Placing his gun on the table he walks to the window and looks out to the sea. Dark blue illuminates the screen and fills the scene with feelings of longing. It is a short scene and there is no dialogue, however, it tells you an infinite amount of detail into the mind of its character. Using visual elements to tell the story is something key to this film, and to Mann’s films in general. Inspiration taken from German expressionism and directors like Carl Dreyer are seen throughout this film. Usage of minimal ambient music elevates the emotion in every scene, characters don’t have to say much but we know exactly how they feel and how strongly they feel it. Dante Spinotti does an exceptional job of capturing the vivid lights and sun blushed streets of LA, showcasing it in all its eternal beauty.
Most of what we learn about Vincent Hanna’s loneliness come from the dialogues with his wife; most notably with this quote “You don't live with me, you live among the remains of dead people. You sift through the detritus, you read the terrain, you search for signs of passing, for the scent of your prey, and then you hunt them down. That's the only thing you're committed to. The rest is the mess you leave as you pass through” and also “I may be stoned on grass and Prozac, but... you've been walking through our life dead”. These quotes tell us very clearly all that we need to know about his character. Their marriage is dead; they no longer know how to love each other, but both feel like they cannot leave each other.
In stark contrast to the realistic and gritty nature of the plot and characters is the fantastical style that exudes out of every frame. LA feels like a ghost town with our characters acting as apparitions, drifting along with no real end in sight - only violence. Both Vincent’s and McCauley’s loneliness culminates in the last 30 minutes of the film. Hanna is finally free of the burden of family and duty when his wife openly lets him abandon her one last time to pursue McCauley. Whereas McCauley is faced with the dilemma of having to abandon his lover, Eady, when he notices Hanna approaching; something that was alluded to in prior scenes. Tension is incredibly high in the last sequence of the film, the grand finale showdown between two otherworldly characters. The final shots are something of pure brilliance, played incredibly by the two actors at the peak of their careers. Hanna holding McCauley’s hand after he’s brutally shot him without saying any words, using only facial expressions to convey their emotions, is supremely powerful: dying holding onto the only other person in the world who understands you.
In David Cronenberg’s Crash, the story focuses on an underground group who have all become addicted to the fetishisation of car crashes and automobile destruction. While at first the film simply reads as a strangely horny film about people who are sexually stimulated by the collision of cars, it’s actually full of wandering individuals who are all suffering with a deep trauma caused by vehicular accidents they were involved in. Like in Crash, the actions the characters do are only an agent that carries the key message; the deeper subtext lies in the fact the characters in both films are about people eternally searching for meaning in their life. Our characters in Heat can only find meaning in a typically ‘non-normal’ life, played out to the extremes, against the traditional life of the American nuclear family, even if they know this life cannot last forever.
Heat’s two main characters, Neil McCauley and Vincent Hanna, played by De Niro and Pacino respectively, are two dialectical people. One cannot exist without the other, but both exist in a simultaneous contradiction. McCauley is a master thief, he knows how to do nothing else and finds little enjoyment in a so called ‘normal’ life; his expertise has come at the cost of a lifetime of isolation turning him into maybe the loneliest character De Niro has ever played (which is saying something). Likewise, Hanna is an overly dedicated and excellent detective, his third marriage slowly crumbling because of his obsession with his career.
Many critics and fans have come to the accurate conclusion that both characters - while theoretically moralistic opposites - respect each other's dedication for their respective jobs. In my opinion this doesn’t really go deep enough. Both characters don’t only respect each other, they are each seemingly the only other person who actually understands them on a genuine personal level, as is shown in the famous coffee scene where the two converse. One moment in particular is this exchange between Vincent and McCauley respectively
“I don’t know how to do anything else”
“I don’t much want to either”
“Neither do I”
They then both wearily smile at each other, fully understanding what makes them so similar. Surrounded by people who don’t fully understand their feelings or desires, the two find solace in each other. Two lonely stars drifting along the ethereal dreamscape of LA, no longer knowing their place in the world or how to live another life.
Mann’s extensive use of blue and various other cold colours display Los Angeles as a world of inherent sorrow. Early on in the film we have a scene where McCauley arrives at his apartment, a barren place with little to no furniture - why would he need it? Placing his gun on the table he walks to the window and looks out to the sea. Dark blue illuminates the screen and fills the scene with feelings of longing. It is a short scene and there is no dialogue, however, it tells you an infinite amount of detail into the mind of its character. Using visual elements to tell the story is something key to this film, and to Mann’s films in general. Inspiration taken from German expressionism and directors like Carl Dreyer are seen throughout this film. Usage of minimal ambient music elevates the emotion in every scene, characters don’t have to say much but we know exactly how they feel and how strongly they feel it. Dante Spinotti does an exceptional job of capturing the vivid lights and sun blushed streets of LA, showcasing it in all its eternal beauty.
Most of what we learn about Vincent Hanna’s loneliness come from the dialogues with his wife; most notably with this quote “You don't live with me, you live among the remains of dead people. You sift through the detritus, you read the terrain, you search for signs of passing, for the scent of your prey, and then you hunt them down. That's the only thing you're committed to. The rest is the mess you leave as you pass through” and also “I may be stoned on grass and Prozac, but... you've been walking through our life dead”. These quotes tell us very clearly all that we need to know about his character. Their marriage is dead; they no longer know how to love each other, but both feel like they cannot leave each other.
In stark contrast to the realistic and gritty nature of the plot and characters is the fantastical style that exudes out of every frame. LA feels like a ghost town with our characters acting as apparitions, drifting along with no real end in sight - only violence. Both Vincent’s and McCauley’s loneliness culminates in the last 30 minutes of the film. Hanna is finally free of the burden of family and duty when his wife openly lets him abandon her one last time to pursue McCauley. Whereas McCauley is faced with the dilemma of having to abandon his lover, Eady, when he notices Hanna approaching; something that was alluded to in prior scenes. Tension is incredibly high in the last sequence of the film, the grand finale showdown between two otherworldly characters. The final shots are something of pure brilliance, played incredibly by the two actors at the peak of their careers. Hanna holding McCauley’s hand after he’s brutally shot him without saying any words, using only facial expressions to convey their emotions, is supremely powerful: dying holding onto the only other person in the world who understands you.
