Heat (1995) Panel Discussion
Just a little something to ‘warm’ up your weekend, this ‘hot’ discussion is burining with intense movie ‘friction’, a panel review and discussion of Michael Mann’s crime masterpiece, hosted by modern cinema’s primary purveyor of perplexing puzzle pictorials – enjoy;
The exhaustive other parts can be followed here, should you be so inclined….
Heat (1995) Anniversary
I thought I might provide a little criminal refreshment from this frantic week of anticipation of what seems certain to be the biggest film in motion picture history. Released twenty years ago on this very day Heat is one of my favourite film of all time, a close winner with other Michael Mann urban perfectionist poetics, just one of those pictures I can easily revisit once a year like The Thing, Goodfellas and The Shining and never get remotely bored. Sure enough its a product of its time, the whole cops and robbers, cat-and-mouse but a-ha aren’t they exactly like each other was about as original as moody urban serial killer pictures back in the late 20th century, but like Se7en someone had to do it first, and someone had to do it right. Here is editor William Goldenberg ACE talking about his sheer terror at suddently being involved with such a high-profile project;
I’m not quite sure how I managed this, but I appear to have three copies of the film, one on DVD (naturally) but then not one but two Blu-Ray releases, which I can’t even remember ordering let alone duplicating.The score was from the underrated Elliot Goldenthal, a fine composer whom is often overlooked in favour of your Elfmen, your Zimmer’s, your Burwell’s or your Howard Shore’s, his styling giving a sense of the epic urban space and character anthems from De Niro’s first visibility;
I almost went and saw it again at the cinema this year, at the beloved BFI of course, where I had originally caught a screening as part of a Mann season back in about 2005 or 2006 or so. This reminds me I should really finally pull a score on this. It was showing this year as part of the Pacino season but alas I didn’t get around to it, maybe some other time. I have to say that this sequence on the vast auditoria of NFT1 with the sound throbbing was quite electrifying;
I’m still not sure how he did but Mann manages to pack in so much material which you’d think would be extraneous to the central Vincent / Neil conflict – the former’s anxiety ridden stepdaughter (played by a young Natalie Portman), Val Kilmer’s spousal problems – and they don’t feel like padding or distractions. Instead they are just part of the tapestry of these LA lives, awarding the film with some dramatic vicissitude that amplifies the central cop / robber dichotomy. Here is some production context for you, Heck, I even managed to get through this without posting the infamous and allegedly inspirational shoot-out or the historic Diner scene – instead lets close with this montage of Mann which I’ve probably posted before, but withstands another scrutiny;
THE CINEMA OF MICHAEL MANN from Balistik on Vimeo.
The Godfather
It’s a funny old world. I was called into the Directors office this morning for what I assumed was news of two weeks notice – my contract with Southwark was always agreed at three months (which expired last week) and they are hemorrhaging consultants all over the place due to cost efficiency drives. That’s fine, it’s expected (I’ve been given two hours notice of termination in the past), it’s the game I’m in and that’s how the industry works. I walked out with a three month extension and an exceptionally strong push to take on a future permanent role that they would construct around my recommendations – she made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. There, I’ll bet you were wondering where I was going with that in a post about the Don of all crime movies, ‘The Godfather‘ which my local cinema once again excelled in picking up as part of its national limited digital big screen re-release.
Do we really need a synopsis? OK then, it is the late 1940s in New York and Vito Corleone (Marlon Brando, iconic) is, in the parlance of organized crime, a “godfather” or “don,” the head of a Mafia family. Michael (Al Pacino in his breakthrough role) initially uninvolved with the family business has returned a war hero from Europe and arrives at the wedding of his sister, Connie (Talia Shire), with his non-Italian girlfriend, Kay (Diane Keaton), who inquisitively
learns about the family “business.” A few months later Don Vito barely survives an assassination attempt fron mobsters hired by a drug-trafficking rival whose request for solace from the Corleones’ political influence was rejected. After saving his father from a second assassination attempt, Michael persuades his quick tempered elder brother, Sonny (a feisty James Caan), and family advisor, consigliere Tom Hagen (Robert Duvall) and that he should be the one to exact revenge….
So much of the movie has entered the lexicon of cinema thus it’s quite difficult to dismantle its legendary reputation and take a fresh look at the film, I tried to be as dispassionate as possible but it was impossible not to be astounded on almost every level. It’s the American Dream writ large, the unceasing seduction of more power, more wealth and just how tenuous that position of authority can be – a couple of punks armed with .38’s can bring it all crashing down. As always with these new prints it looked fantastic, Gordon ‘The Prince Of Darkness’ Willis submerging the drama into a cloaked world of violence, betrayal and murder. The Nino Rota score is perfect, the performances are all perfect, as Kubrick once said it is a strong contender for the best cast movie ever made, from the central roles down to the granite faces of the criminal foot soldiers. Walter Murch’s post production strokes of élan such as the match cuts and sound design on the central murder scene, the impeccable re-creation of the late 1940’s from designer Dean Tavoularis, they all blend to make this a sumptuous cinematic feast. Oh, and that’s Michael Chapman listed there as the camera operator, he would go on to photograph a few Scorsese’s and some other classics.
If someone held a gun to my head and instructed me to give the best film acting performance ever I would have to elect Pacino in both Godfathers I and II, it’s not the most original choice I know but it doesn’t distract from 
his volcanic, internal, brooding achievement, quite the reverse of the explosive, attention seeking performances that he’s subsequently delivered. I love the minutiae of detail in the film, the guns adapted to make a lot more noise and scare off witnesses, the Machiavellian maneuvering of the competing criminal dynasties, the almost Shakespearean tragedy seething in every scene. One strange thing was the lack of dialogue subtitles when Michael is talking with Sollozzo and McClusky as seen here, they were completely absent yet earlier in the film when characters are speaking Sicilian the subtitles are present and correct – weird. I’d heard on one of my podcasts the complaint that digital screenings sometimes mis-align the dialogue track so you see actors lips moving with a delayed sound, something which apparently wrecked the premiere of the new print of ‘An American Werewolf in London‘ at Frightfest this year and something I did occasionally notice during both screenings of Scarface and The Thing. Thankfully the technicians at the Cineworld seem to have cracked this one as there were no irritating distractions such as that at this screening. So lets close with the operatic conclusion of Michael’s ascent – or should that be descent – to Godfather with the ruthless execution of the bosses of the five families which elevates him to the highest echelon of power. Stunning orchestration eh?
Scarface
‘Si ello ti mai lile frein‘ – yeah, there will be spoilers but if you haven’t seen that venomous satire of the American dream ‘Scarface‘ from way back in 1983 then you’re probably at the wrong blog. In what I’m amusing is some low key celebration of the films twenty five year anniversary a new print of Brian De Palma and Oliver Stone’s ode to capitalist excess is charging around London, I wanted to get one cinema visit under my belt before leaving for Paris at the end of the week, since ‘Scarface’ was showing at my local cinema I had no excuse to avoid this seminal eighties gangster picture as it didn’t necessitate some tiresome jaunt across the capital.
In a loose remake of the 1932 original starring Paul Muni and directed by Howard Hawks ‘Scarface‘ is the story of Tony Montana (Al Pacino in full on scenery chewing excess mode), a Cuban hoodlum expelled to the blistering ghettos of Miami after Castro purged 125,000 of his least desirable citizens in the early eighties. In the usual rag to reaches story Tony and his best friend Manny Ribera (Steven Bauer) begin to ascend the criminal ladder, viciously following the orders of their drug lord superiors, a dizzying rise to power that occurs in tandem with the prevalence of a new, intensely profitable and popular narcotic – cocaine. Through his own particular brand of streetwise, Machiavellian cunning Tony outwits his crime boss sponsor Frank Lopez (Robert Loggia) and seduces his wife Elvira (a pasty Michelle Pfeiffer) and achieves all the opaque, hollow trappings of wealth and power at the expense it seems of his family and soul.
It has something of a Greek odyssey structure which I’m sure Stone intended – ambitious warrior ascends the ranks by sacrificing his friends and exterminating his foes with ruthless efficiency. He cuckolds his master’s lover and betrays him for her in order to usurp total power. He harbours a secret incestuous love for his estranged sister which compels him to kill his lifelong henchmen and finally he releases the furies, the vengeful fate of the gods when he follows a moral path for a change (refusing to kill children) in a ironic twist of fate. I was surprised to see how packed the cinema was, there were a few groups of investment bankers from Credit Suisse across the road who were probably brushing up on their business ethic skills and a few groups of vaguely intimidating hoodie garbed yoofs who were…. well….. probably brushing up their business ethic skills. There were a couple of altercations during the film (a surprising three hours, I don’t remember the film being that long) with some audience members getting into verbal fisticuffs with another group who wouldn’t stop talking – luckily I was too far away to hear anything. They were chucked out before the situation could deteriorate, every time I’ve been situated near some inconsiderate fucks I either move or leave and get my money back, yes I’m a coward but to be honest I’ve heard and read enough horror stories about what are obviously socially retarded people turning violent when challenged on their behaviour. I guess I need to grow a pair of fucking balls.
When it comes to De Palma pictures I’m usually spilt into camps – the bad films and the really bad films. Yes, I’ll concur that ‘The Untouchables‘ has its moments as does <SPOILERS> ‘Carlito’s Way‘ and ‘Scarface’ but that’s usually more due to a great script from the likes of David Mamet or Oliver Stone combined with a great lead or ensemble performance. I can see why he has a following amongst us cineastes but personally I don’t buy it, yes I’ve heard the argument that his hyper-stylised Hitchcock rip-offs / homage’s are the point, he’s commenting on cinema in some meta-textual fashion but sorry, I just don’t buy it. ‘Scarface’ is a bloated whale of a film, it wallows in its nimiety but if you’re willing to go with it then it works, mostly I think due to Pacino’s hilarious performance. The film is awash in excess, the perfect simulacra 
for the prodigious appetites of the eighties, the ‘me’ generation when personal, individual gain was championed above all other credos. In the film the characters don’t snort a few grams of coke, they trough from enormous sugar bowls of the highest quality Colombian flake. The gangsters aren’t armed with pistols, they’re armed with automatic rifles, grenade launchers, chainsaws and machetes. It’s ludicrous but it fits. The garish restaurants and nightclubs with their neon lined decor, the flared pastel costumes draped in pre-bling gaudy jewellery, the animal pelt rugs, the monogrammed furniture and towels -all naff but perfectly apt for the era. In typical De Palma fashion these capitalist critiques are bludgeoned into the audience, he actually puts lines like ‘You know what capitalism is? Getting fucked!’ into the characters mouths rather than suggest as such but like I said, if you’re in the mood there is a great deal of fun to be had here, particularly the opening introductory scene of Tony, the chainsaw scene and the legendary climactic shoot-out, all unfolding against the classic Moroder period score.
Right, I’m off to Paris so behave yourselves, no parties and I’ll catch up with you next month.
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