Heat

1995 was a great year for movies. “Se7en,” “The Usual Suspects,” “Kids,” “Twelve Monkeys,” Die Hard: With a Vengeance,” Apollo 13,” “Desperado,” “Leaving Las Vegas,” “Mallrats,” “Grumpier Old Men ,” “Dead Man” and Casino” all hit theatres, and are all at the top of my list for that year. Not to mention instant classics like, “Showgirls,” “Waiting to Exhale “and say it with me, “Free Willy 2: Wong Foo Thanks for Everything, Johnny Mnemonic.”

However, “Heat,” directed by Michael Mann, stands out most in my mind as not only a great crime thriller, but as a 170-minute-long acting class. Set in Los Angeles, a small circle of high stakes thieves, led by Robert De Niro as Neil McCauley, leave evidence at the scene of their latest heist, an armored car robbery. The LAPD, led by Al Pacino as Lt. Vincent Hanna, catch the scent and begin to close in. McCauley is aging and, with all this “Heat,” is beginning to consider retirement just as he is talked into one more risky bank robbery. Lt. Hanna is relentless in his detective work. So much so, that his personal life begins to crumble as his wife openly cheats on him and his stepdaughter, played by Natalie Portman, attempts suicide. The two men, dedicated to finish what they have started and uphold their respective obligations, are set on a collision course with one another. A part of both men want out of their lifestyles, but each is simultaneously married to it and cannot bring themselves to break free. As most crime films operate in a sort of cat-and-mouse chase, De Niro and Pacino are set in a game of chicken. The only question is who will swerve first?

Pacino plays his Lieutenant Detective as a damaged and obsessed man, at the exact moment he starts to lose his grip on his life and family. “You don't live with me. You live among the remains of dead people. You sift through the debris, 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,” his wife says. De Niro is equally weathered, but still sharp and is looking to start over in a new place, with his new girlfriend.  “I'm alone, I am not lonely,” he says.

Robert De Niro and Al Pacino are two of America’s most exciting and talented actors. You might not believe that from some of their most recent role choices, but trust me. In this film, these two actors team-up for the first time. Both actors came into prominence through the first two parts of “The Godfather” series, and both cemented their stay in Hollywood with their following performances: Pacino as “Serpico” and De Niro as the “Taxi Driver.” And although both actors played in “The Godfather Part II,” they only share a crossfade. In “Heat,” the two finally share a scene with dialogue. And it is well worth the weight. The entire movie could have been absolute crap, and this scene would make it all worthwhile. Lt. Hanna gets a tip that McCauley is on the move. Lt. Hanna pulls him over and asks he wants to get a cup of coffee at an LA diner. Both men know there isn’t enough evidence out there to end this, but they feel compelled to meet one another.

In this scene, something interesting is exposed: the two men are mirror images of one another. Not physically, but simply by their nature. The only thing separating them is the side of the law on which they stand. Something Mick Jagger put as, “Just as every cop is a criminal, and all the sinners saints.” Both men understand that quite obviously their missions contradict one another’s, but they are beginning to realize they will be each other’s undoing. At the diner, they share a brief moment in which this becomes apparent. McCauley says, “I do what I do best, I take scores. You do what you do best, try to stop guys like me.” Lt. Hanna responds, “If it's between you and some poor bastard whose wife you're going to turn into a widow... brother, you are going down.” The lines that define these two characters begin to blur as the plot thickens. By the grand finale, both are left as only shadowy figures, circling each other.