Heat

Fastidious Crime
2/26/09 The main difference between the film Heat and other action or heist films is that Michael Mann’s film is much slower paced.
This is actually not a negative element in anyway. On the contrary, the fastidiousness on the filmmaker’s part adds to the tension in the movie. If the audience didn’t know all the details of the characters in the film’s lives, then they wouldn’t be able to understand the psychology of those characters. In other words, the audience wouldn’t be nervous for the characters well being. This is analogous to real life; we worry for the ones that we know and care about. The ingeniousness of the film comes out of the fact that Mann shows the audience, in great detail, both the lives of the LAPD police department and the group of criminals that they are going after. There’s an amazing lack of moral accusation on the part of Michael Mann, particularly for an action filmmaker, and this is because Mann likes to keep the situations in his films complex to the point of tension.
The film involves two groups: a sector of the LAPD Robbery-Homicide Division run by Lieutenant Vincent Hanna (Al Pacino), and a group of criminals run by Neil McCauley. These are not your typical cops and robbers. Both groups are the experts of what they do. This premise, devised by Michael Mann, is exciting because of the prospect of what would happen if the Homicide Division ran into these criminals. This is not Bonnie and Clyde; here both sides are true opponents. This ultimately makes it difficult for the audience to discern which side is going to win the fight. The film is like an elaborate boxing match; the audience decides who they want to root for. Mann does not disappoint; he builds on this basic idea by constantly introducing more and more story elements ultimately to create a basic tapestry of mid 90’s L.A., in terms of its crime and law element.
The film does not merely consist of an antagonistic fight; there’s psychology and complexity added to the equation as well. What’s startling in the film is how similar the two factions really are. What the audience sees in these two, and what ultimately
makes the action scenes in this film much more than mere action scenes, is that both Hanna and McCauley lead a very sad existence away from their “jobs”. They lead sad home lives because they love the thrill of what they do, and therefore, cannot truly get attached to their loved ones. Successfully carrying off a heist (McCauley) and capturing criminals (Hanna) is what they love. This element makes the action scenes thrilling for an audience member to witness, because for the longest time the film merely shows how miserable these characters lives really are. Therefore, the bank heist scene is cathartic for both the characters and the audience. (It’s one of the greatest moments in 90’s cinema.)
That and the scene between DeNiro and Pacino are breathtaking scenes. The heist is complex in terms of its editing and shot composition, whilst the conversation scene is very simple. It consists merely of cutting back and forth between over the shoulder shots of DeNiro and Pacino. The fact that these two acting titans are in a scene together is amazing enough. What makes the moment even better is that the movie these two appear in is rich and complex in its own right. Heat is not just an excuse to put these two in the same film. Heat would have been an interesting film without them. However, the fact that these two complement the movie in such a rich way adds wonders to Mann’s statement on the conflicted intermingling of law and crime. Both of these characters respect for one another (just as DeNiro and Pacino the actors respect one another) is an example of a conflicted relationship, because they have to ultimately hunt one another down (just as one actor has to compete with the other actor in terms of giving the better performance.) These two respect what they do more than anything else.
These two characters are very remote from the people around them, but they have to be in order to be successful at what they
do. As McCauley says to one of the men who works with him, by the name of Chris Shiherlis (Val Kilmer), “You wanna be making moves on the street, have no attachments. Allow nothing to be in your life that you can’t walk out on in 30 seconds flat if you spot the heat around the corner.” Hannah says something very similar when he states to his wife Justine (Diane Venora), in regards to his having to be detached emotionally, “I preserve it because it keeps me sharp, on the edge, where I need to be.” Yet, there is a subtle difference between those two sentences, and that’s apparent in the style in which they are delivered.
Because of his occupation, DeNiro’s character is more careful and restrained in his mannerisms, compared to Pacino’s character. (This creates a very fresh take on dialectical acting between the two titans.) This subtle difference between the two is
analogous to how Pacino’s character is moral, and DeNiro’s is not. It’s that subtle difference that creates the conflict between the two, and basically results in the premise of the movie.
That heat around the corner that DeNiro is talking about is what makes the film suspenseful. While watching the film, the audience knows in the back of their minds that these two will have a showdown. In its staid visual imagery and high concentration on the warrior’s code, Heat is very reminiscent of a Japanese Samurai film. The difference here is that these Samurai are in nicely fitted suits.
The suits are not the only components that make the film look breathtaking. There’s also the great cinematography by Dante Spinotti. He lights the DeNiro side of the story in a very different way from Pacino’s side of the story. McCauley’s nightmare, which he relates to Hannah, is that he’s drowning in his sleep. This is supposed to represent McCauley’s morality catching up to him. It’s his realization that his way of doing things is flawed. Spinotti lights DeNiro’s sections in a very crisp blue, almost as if the actor were drowning. Hannah tells McCauley that he has nightmares about sitting at a banquet table with all of the people that he could not save. This morbidity on Hannah’s part is reflected in the dark lighting that surrounds Pacino throughout the film. Both of these forms of lighting engulf the two actors/characters. It’s an aesthetic form of constriction; a metaphor for the lack of freedom that these two have because of the love for what they are talented at. This statement is really what the film is all about, and it wouldn’t be felt as acutely if it weren’t for the look of the film.
This is what makes Mann’s films so special, and what ultimately separates him from the amateurs. (The same could be said of DeNiro and Pancino’s acting. In fact, all of the acting is fascinating in the film.) It’s this kind of attention to detail that I miss from movies in this day and age.