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A fan asked me to discuss Michael Mann’s 1995 movie Heat as part of my ongoing series of essays on mafia movies. I’ve got good news and bad news. The bad news is that Heat is not really a mafia movie. The good news is that Heat is such a magnificent movie that I am reviewing it anyway.
Heat is a crime movie, indeed an organized crime movie. But it is not a mafia movie, although the trailers and posters make it look like one, because it stars Robert De Niro and Al Pacino, both of whom have had leading roles in major mafia movies. But the criminals in Heat do not belong to Italian, Irish, or Jewish organized crime “families.”
Beyond that, the classics of the mafia genre are set within the world of the mafia. Both the protagonists (the “heroes” or at least anti-heroes) and the antagonists (“the villains”) are all criminals. The police, of course, hover in the background and are also antagonists, sometimes aligned with criminals.
But when the police move into the foreground as the protagonists, we have what can be called a police drama as opposed to a crime drama. Mafia movies involving undercover police agents like The Departed or Donnie Brasco are something of a hybrid of the police and the crime genres.
Conflict gives life to stories. In the hands of a good director, the more conflict, the better. Clashing worlds (cops vs. criminals) and conflicts within these worlds (double crosses, undercover agents, double agents, hoe drama), can be quite intellectually and emotionally involving. Martin Scorsese’s The Departed is a masterpiece of this hybrid genre. But the greatest example is Heat.
The main conflict in Heat is between a gang of armed robbers led by Neil McCauley (Robert De Niro) and the man tasked with catching them, Vincent Hanna (Al Pacino), a lieutenant in the Los Angeles Police Department.
But there is also drama within Neil’s crew. The other three members are Chris Shiherlis (Val Kilmer), Michael Cheritto (Tom Sizemore), and Trejo (Danny Trejo). They work together, because they served time together. Now let’s hit pause right here for a moment to reflect on this. There are many different ways to build community and trust between men. But some are better than others. Generally, communities based on shared vices such as drinking, drugs, and gambling are not the most lasting and reliable. The same is true of the friends you make in prison. Chances are, they are all different shades of rogue, not the sort of people you can trust once you get outside. And if a genuinely innocent man is sent to jail, it’s not likely he’ll go into organized crime when he gets out.
No gang is stronger than its weakest link, in this case Trejo. Trejo vouches for a dirtbag named Waingro (played to creepy perfection by Kevin Gage)—someone he met in prison, of course—to join them at the last minute in an armored car robbery. Neil’s robberies are meticulously planned. So why add a stranger to the crew at the last minute? Waingro turns out to be a homicidal maniac—the kind of person you might meet in a prison—who lacks the discipline needed for Neil’s crew. The result is three dead guards.
Neil is furious. But what is he upset about? The loss of life? The lack of discipline? The increased heat? The evening after the robbery, Neil smacks Waingro around in a crowded restaurant. Then Neil promises to pay Waingro in the parking lot. Once outside, it is clear that Neil planned to kill him. The trunk of his car is lined with plastic.
But if that was the plan, why draw attention with public drama? Why take the risk of killing a man in a parking lot outside a busy restaurant on a busy street? If Neil can plan ahead enough to line a trunk with plastic, why not come up with a better plan? Why not be chummy and lure Waingro to a more private place where he can be killed? Neil sees himself as cold, methodical, and unemotional. Yet here he seems impulsive and irrational.
Neil advises people not to make any connections that they cannot walk away from if necessary in 30 seconds flat. Yet Neil seems very fond of his crew. Beyond that, the rest of the crew have women in their lives. Chris and Michael are married with kids. Trejo lives with a woman as well.
Neil begins a romance with Eady (Amy Brenneman), a bookstore clerk and part-time graphic designer from Appalachia. Neil tells Eady that he is “alone but not lonely.” Eady confesses that she is lonely. I think Eady is in better touch with her feelings. Neil escalates toward a more serious relationship after a family dinner with his crew in which he is the only single man.
Nevertheless, the wisdom of Neil’s philosophy of detachment is borne out by the film. The crew’s work is compromised by relationship drama: Chris has a gambling problem and is an unreliable provider, so his wife Charlene (Ashley Judd) is searching for a better man. Neil has to intervene. Later, the gang is betrayed by Trejo when his wife is held hostage, with disastrous consequences for all involved.
Neil’s sense of justice also conflicts with his philosophy of detachment. Indeed, when it looks like Neil is finally able to walk away from his life of crime with millions in cash as well as Eady, who is willing to share his life on the run, he is diverted by his sense of justice to punish Waingro—to the ruin of all involved.
Although the “good guys” win, the end of Heat is still genuinely tragic. Although we know that we are all safer with men like Neil McCauley behind bars or dead, most of us are hoping he and Eady will live happily ever after.
Beyond that, even though Neil’s many excellences are deployed for anti-social ends, it is still possible to admire them from a purely technical point of view. Thus Heat offers a great example of a “tragic anti-hero,” a man of genuine greatness (if not goodness) undone not by a tragic flaw but instead by a tragic virtue, specifically two virtues: love and justice. (Don’t be fooled by when Neil looks at Eady in the car then walks away. He isn’t abandoning her. He’s protecting her.)
Neil’s nemesis, Lieutenant Vincent Hanna (Pacino), is wholly devoted to the law. He’s somewhat vulgar and abrasive, but these traits are necessary for dealing with criminals. He’s very good at his job, but in the end, he beats Neil not with his virtues but with his flaws. Hanna is a former Marine. He’s also smart. He went to graduate school. Then he went into police work, which is all-consuming. He is incapable of maintaining normal human relationships. Thus he is on the downward slope of his third failed marriage.
Vincent’s stepdaughter has just tried to commit suicide in his hotel room, but he managed to rescue her. He is comforting his soon-to-be-ex-wife in a hospital lounge, when he gets a message about Neil’s whereabouts. He doesn’t even hesitate. He’s gone in 30 seconds flat. He beat Neil not because of his virtues but because of a vice: he’s incapable of love. He’s much colder and more ruthless than his enemy.
In fact, the only real warmth Hanna shows in the whole movie is towards Neil, whom he obviously admires. In one of Heat’s most effective scenes, Hanna invites Neil to coffee. There is initial distrust and fencing, of course, but the two men bond over their alienation from normal life. Neil has done time in prison, but he makes it clear that he would rather die than go back. Being a Marine, Hanna has at least heard of the idea of “Death Before Dishonor.” It turns out that they have a great deal in common, but they can’t be friends, because Neil can’t imagine life without breaking the law, and Hanna can’t imagine life without enforcing it. They are on a collision course.
Ironically, though, the collision happens because, in the end, Neil can imagine an alternative to his life—pursuing love and justice—whereas Hanna cannot. Hanna has won, but his isolation is closing in on him, and the only companionship he can find is with a criminal he has just brought down. It is a deeply moving end to a brilliantly plotted story.
Vincent Hanna is one of society’s guardians, but he isn’t very good at taking care of himself. And, as Socrates states baldly in Plato’s Republic, the guardians must live incomplete and unhappy lives for the good of the whole. But there’s something horrifying about the fact that any social system gives competitive advantages to people who live one-pointed rather than well-rounded lives. But the only way out of such a system is for everyone to walk away at once. Neil tried to walk away, but Hanna would not let him.
Neil McCauley is one of Robert De Niro’s best roles. Neil seems tough, intelligent, and self-possessed. Al Pacino is also very good as Vincent Hanna. I don’t like the character. But that’s just Pacino playing him well. The rest of the large ensemble cast is also excellent, but I especially liked John Voight who is both sleazy-looking and avuncular as Nate, a highly competent underworld connector and fixer.
Director Michael Mann is Jewish and surely a Hollywood libtard. But his diversity casting is pretty much standard for Nineties movies. The main characters are white, with some colored backup singers. There is no blatant casting against stereotype. Jewish actors play putatively non-Jewish characters, while non-Jewish actors play putatively Jewish ones. If there’s an agenda here, it is crypsis.
Heat is brilliantly crafted. It was shot entirely on locations in and around Los Angeles. You can freeze practically any frame, and it works as a beautifully composed still.
Flying into Los Angeles during the day is like a strafing run over the Death Star: bleak and hideous. But Mann’s nighttime cityscapes actually make Los Angeles beautiful. The grit and ugliness disappear, leaving only lights tracing out human plans and human purposiveness. It is a step into a world of spirit and signs, not grubby matter. The music by Elliot Goldenthal, which is primarily scored for electric guitars, is highly effective, especially during the night sequences.
Although Heat is primarily a character study, there are striking action sequences, particularly the gun battle that erupts when a bank robbery goes wrong. The pacing and suspense are deft but not transparently manipulative. Heat lasts nearly three hours, but it never lost my attention or felt padded.
I highly recommend Heat as one of the great crime dramas, not just of the Nineties but of all time. If you haven’t seen it, don’t worry about spoilers. I have left out a lot, so there will be plenty of surprises. If you have already seen Heat, I hope I have convinced you that it is a movie worth revisiting.
30+ years after first seeing it on the big screen and many viewings since, this review opened new ways to appreciate the film. Truly excellent piece.