The year of 1995 is my favorite year in film giving us so many beloved favorites of mine such as Lord of Illusions, The Usual Suspects, Seven, In The Mouth of Madness, GoldenEye, The Prophecy, Strange Days, and more. This year also gave us a brilliant union of powerhouse talents when Michael Mann brought together screen legends Al Pacino and Robert De Niro in Heat. While I consider Manhunter my favorite, and The Insider to be Mann’s best film, I cannot deny that Heat is a crime saga masterpiece. It is finally Michael Mann refined and matured to a breath-taking level developing his signature concepts to perfection. I can think of no more appropriate film to hold the honor of the 200th review on Forever Cinematic than Heat.
Neil McCauley (Robert De Niro) is a master thief who lives by the simple discipline of “have nothing in your life you are not willing to walk out on in 30 seconds flat if you feel the “heat” around the corner.” His crew of career criminals is a high-tech outfit pulling off professional jobs that impress even the likes of Detective Vincent Hanna (Al Pacino). But Hanna, a man driven through life only by his work, becomes obsessed, at the expense of his private life, with bringing McCauley down. As McCauley’s crew prepare for the score of a lifetime, and Hanna’s team tries to bring him in, the two find that they are similar in many ways, including their troubled personal lives. Ultimately, they find themselves challenged by the greatest minds on the opposite side of the law that either one has ever encountered. With this much heat, the streets of Los Angeles are ready to sizzle and explode!
Heat is filled with excellent performances from everyone involved that it’s hard not to touch upon most of them. Firstly, I am engrossed by the dynamic between Vincent Hanna and Neil McCauley. Hanna is a man whose life is wholly dedicated to his job, and thus, his home life is a disaster with multiple divorces to show for it. Meanwhile, McCauley has his life in control as he takes precision high line scores, but lives a disparate life of bare necessities allowing himself no attachments he cannot walk out on in thirty seconds flat if circumstances require it. Thus, despite these men being on opposite sides of the law, they find themselves in a near symbiotic relationship which fuels the compulsions of their lives. They are both driven by their jobs being out there on the streets in the middle of danger, and everything else in their lives is sacrificed for that. All they are is what they’re going after. That’s what fuels their existences, and Heat is all about that electrifying synergy.
Al Pacino has always been known as a passionate, charismatic actor, and Vincent Hanna surely has that energetic, sharp edge which makes him immensely entertaining here. However, it is the more subtle aspects of the performance that are where the real juice is. You see the razor sharp mind of Hanna when he arrives on the armored car robbery scene. He sees it, absorbs it, and hits all the marks deconstructing every detail of the crime. He doesn’t miss a beat, doesn’t overlook or dismiss anything. You see the proficiency of Neil McCauley and how his crew operates, and then, you see Hanna and his team operate on that same exact level only on the opposite side of that coin. Yet, the depth of Hanna comes to the surface when Vincent converses with his wife, Justine. The weariness and ugliness of his job forces an emotional rift between them, and Pacino’s performance reflects the inner angst and emotional toll that it wreaks on Hanna. These things do affect him, but he never becomes a jaded, pessimistic, desensitized person. Al Pacino absorbs all of that into a subtle and complex performance that energizes the screen.
And delivering a performance on an equal level of weight and intelligence is Robert De Niro. He’s entirely formidable making Neil McCauley a very serious and definitive threat to everyone who opposes him. De Niro has a serious, hard edged presence that dominates the screen, and every move, every word, every course of action he makes is efficient. There’s a full immersion into the character in all his nuances and textures. Sometimes, a great performance is seen in raw emotion, but other times, it’s all in the subtle complexities. That is what De Niro give us here showing the versatile diversity of this character from cold, hard criminal to the loyal, caring friend and lover. Despite being the antagonist in the story, we see a real heart when Neil becomes involved with Eady. It’s takes a masterful actor and filmmaker to take a character like McCauley who will sanction and be entirely sociopathic about the murder of innocent people, and do something so human with him to where you genuinely feel his depth of heart. Surely, that’s nothing you would want translated into reality, but in a fictional narrative, it provides a captivating dimensionality that Robert De Niro captures with pitch perfect substance.
Val Kilmer was really in his peak at this time after his stunning turn as Doc Holliday in Tombstone. Thus, he was filming Heat concurrently with Batman Forever, really capitalizing on two excellent opportunities. Here, his role might be overlooked by the presence of Pacino and De Niro, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t top notch. Chris Shiherlis proves to be a really intense character with his gambling addiction and marital strives, and Kilmer really absorbs the weary heart of Chris deeply into his performance. Despite infidelities on the part of Chris and his wife Charlene, portrayed tremendously by Ashley Judd, their final shared moment strikes deep within the heart to show just how much they both truly loved one another, but their marriage was never built to last. Kilmer hits all the marks to make this character standout solidly alongside De Niro, and to a lesser extent, Tom Sizemore does the same as the more action junkie sociopath Michael Cheritto. There’s a real strong brotherhood between Neil and Chris that shows through shiningly, and that relationship brings a lot of dimension to both characters.
I’m fascinated by the chain reaction of events here which create numerous exciting plot turns. Essentially, Waingro is the key cog who sets everything in motion. Without him going off the handle and facilitating the triple homicide, Vincent Hanna likely would not have been as dogged to track down McCauley and his crew. He’d be intrigued by the precision professionals, but it would just be another robbery. Then, Waingro betrays McCauley to his enemies, forcing the bank heist to turn into a violent, deadly shootout and propelling McCauley to make the irrational decision to go after him instead of escaping free and clear. Waingro turns the tide of the story at pivotal moments because he is a wild card with no loyalty to anyone but his own base, primal impulses. Furthermore, Kevin Gage is perfect in this role making for a wholly convincing hardened ex-convict sociopath who is dreadfully frightening and intimidating. It’s sadly poetic that less than a decade later he would become a federal convict for cultivating medicinal marijuana.
The other intriguing quality of Heat are the women. Michael Mann always makes the affectionate, strong women of his films vitally important to the arcs and stories of the male leads, and never objectifies them. The significant others of Hanna, McCauley, and Shiherlis are all passionate, loving women who desire a stable life. Justine Hanna grapples with Vincent’s internalized angst from the horrors he sees out on those streets, and just wants a husband who opens up to her instead of being distant, closed off, and vacant in their marriage. She wants a marriage with love not ragged leftovers of a man who drifts through their lives empty. Eady, portrayed by Amy Brenneman, is the most innocent of them all existing entirely outside the world of cops and criminals. She’s a simple, honest, warm person that unexpectedly opens up Neil’s world and gives him something to be affectionate about. For a man who lives with no attachments of any kind, it’s finally someone in his life that makes him care to have a life. Charlene, however, is the real gold for me as Ashley Judd is confident, heartbreaking and truly empathic as Chris’ wife. As I said, there is a deep down, genuine love between Chris and Charlene, but there’s so much addictive and combative garbage in the way that it was destined to crumble. For me, the Shiherlis dynamic is the most complex and substantive one of the film because of that real quality of conflict and adoration between them.
Without a doubt, Danté Spinotti is a remarkable cinematographer, and he does an excellent, stunning job with Heat. He composes so many carefully selected shots which tell a very visual story that holds weight. Just as Mann had fully refined and developed his artistic sensibilities so had Spinotti making this a very sophisticated looking and composed picture. There are pure moments of inspired artistry creating a masterful canvas that this story is told upon. This is also a film that feels very engrained and engrossed in the fiber of Los Angeles because of the visual vibe. Shots of the skyline in hazy daylight or glowing nighttime neo noir create that great backdrop that has substance and life.
Upon this watch of the movie, I picked up far more on Elliott Goldenthal’s amazingly original and pulsating score. A lot of what he does are subtle textures and melodies that nicely underscore various scenes. His score doesn’t fight for dominance in the audio mix. It complements everything that Mann is doing with the emotion, characters, and story. At times, Goldenthal’s score can be very powerful and striking such as the moment where Chris and Charlene are forced to abandon each other because of the police stakeout. The emotional pain swells into the score in a haunting swirl. Then, there’s the parting phone call between Neil and Nate that reflects the sorrowful feeling of two people, best of friends, saying goodbye for the final time, and Goldenthal’s score hits that mark so beautifully. Every single moment is so perfectly punctuated, and should be considered amongst his best work. Additionally, the two tracks by Moby are beautiful, superb, innovative tracks that saturate the power of their respective scenes, most notably being the ending with “God Moving Over The Face of The Waters.”
Of course, the big, electrifying selling point of this film was having two of America’s most celebrated actors, Al Pacino and Robert De Niro, collide in all their glory. That would not be complete without the excellent diner scene where Vincent Hanna and Neil McCauley have a very probing conversation. The very interesting quality of that scene is that this is the only point in time where these two men are able to be entirely open, honest, and reveal their inner workings. They are more intimately connected with each other than with anyone else in their lives. Again, the subtle performances of depth and honesty make this the absolute nexus of this entire film. Heat was previously made as a TV movie called L.A. Takedown by Michael Mann, and when you watch this scene performed by very second rate, stiff or hollow actors with almost identical dialogue, you realize the gold standard quality of Pacino and De Niro. In their hands, Vincent Hanna and Neil McCauley are brilliantly fleshed out and fascinating characters, and this is the scene that shows them stripped down. They show what haunts them and what drives them. There is no pretense between these men, and they realize that they are very similar despite being the flip side of each other. These are the only two people alike in this world of Michael Mann’s film that truly, undeniably understand one another. Furthermore, this scene is entirely integral to how the film’s climax unfolds.
Firstly, that shootout in the streets of downtown Los Angeles is one of the most ear-blistering sonic experiences ever, and that’s coming from a heavy metal fan. Michael Mann had considered using post-production sound effects for this, but realized that the realistic production audio created the true power and impact he wanted. It conveys the violent magnitude of real life gunfire and enhanced the danger of this sequence exponentially. The precision of every tactic is true to how Michael Mann approached his films. He made sure that every detail was accurate to life, and that mentality makes his films far more interesting to witness than the more over-the-top action sequences we get in the big, fun blockbusters.
The climax of Heat narrows everything down to what the whole film has been about at its core – Vincent Hanna and Neil McCauley. These two men, who exist in a world separated from the mainstream of society and defined by its own rules, are now pitted against one another in an electrifying, tense, and suspenseful cat and mouse sequence that is absolutely pitch perfect, and showcases the unequivocal skill of Michael Mann. The moment where McCauley sees Hanna just as he is to ride off with Eady is beautiful, painful, and eloquent. Neil invokes his “thirty seconds flat” rule turning away from Eady for his own survival, and the ensuing chase towards LAX is wonderfully and smartly plotted. The climactic moment is excellent and poetic. Then, after it’s all over, these two men are bonded together in a strikingly profound moment that ends the film on an astonishing stroke of pure brilliance.
I had always taken Heat for granted as that great crime saga pinnacle for Michael Mann, but until now, I never peered deeply enough into it to see the subtle brilliance of it. Many of his films are easier to see the inspired breadth and depth, but Heat has so many fine brush strokes of detail, interwoven threads, and subtext that only a real immersion into it made me absorb it all. This is truly a brilliantly written, directed, and acted film that did not get the recognition it deserved during awards season. Michael Mann himself received no nominations for his screenplay or directing, and Pacino, De Niro, or Kilmer received no acting award nominations either. It’s amazing to me that so many incredible, mold breaking, and standard setting films were released this year, and those I hold in highest regard barely got any recognition from any major awards organizations. This is why I find it hard to put much weight into these organizations because they’d rather nominate a movie about a talking animatronic pig over brilliant masterpieces like Heat, Strange Days, The Usual Suspects, or Seven for Best Picture or Best Director. Today, nobody talks about Babe, but people still endlessly praise those others films because they launched careers, took stunning risks, set new standards, and blew peoples’ minds. And when Michael Mann finally got his just nominations, he didn’t win a single one for what no one will ever be able to tell me wasn’t the best movie released in the year 1999 – The Insider. However, for the next review, I go back to the beginning of Michael Mann’s feature film career with Thief.
There are so many action movie classics that people call the best, but for me, Point Break is a special, unique film that is, without a doubt, my favorite action movie of all time. What compels me about this movie that beyond all others is the intense relationship between the protagonist and antagonist. It creates this amazingly unique dynamic that forges the entire electric, kamikaze adrenalin rush of this film. So, let’s delve into Kathryn Bigelow’s action classic.
Rookie FBI Agent Johnny Utah (Keanu Reeves) goes undercover to infiltrate a cache of Southern California surfers suspected of robbing banks. Utah, a former football player, is assigned to Los Angeles. There, four bank robbers, who wear rubber masks and call themselves “The Ex-Presidents,” have executed a series of successful robberies which embarrassingly have the FBI stumped. Utah, and his partner Angelo Pappas (Gary Busey) suspect that the robbers are surfers and hatch a plan for catching them, but the deeper Utah gets connected to the charismatic adrenalin driven Bodhi (Patrick Swayze) and the beautiful Tyler Endicott (Lori Petty) the harder it is for him to jump off this tidal wave of danger and excitement.
Point Break absolutely lives up to its premise as being 100% pure adrenalin. The surfing aspect is just the entryway into this, but it remains at the core of the whole film. That elevated experience shared by Bodhi and Johnny, specifically, is what fuses those two characters together, and is treated with great respect by the filmmakers. The skydiving sequences escalate that to another level with breathtaking cinematography that envelopes you in the experience, and make for a radically insane sequence where Johnny jumps out of the plane, without a parachute, to capture the escaping Bodhi. The earlier chase sequence is visceral and intense that really utilizes a rougher style of camera exceptionally well. And of course, the bank robberies are slam banged into a high gear that shows just how proficient and threatening the Ex-Presidents are. It is no wonder why the FBI has not been able to catch them after twenty-seven banks over three years. Wrap all of this up, and you’ve got a film that goes for the physical thrill of the moment over special effects spectacle. It’s really all about the character dynamics and these scenarios of extreme rushes that provide the high octane exhilaration of Point Break.
Beyond just the action, the core of this film’s compelling energy are the excellent arcs for both Johnny and Bodhi. You see Special Agent Utah at the start being this fresh from the academy FBI rookie all straight laced and green, but you can see the eagerness underneath that later fuels that adrenalin junkie urge. Johnny and Bodhi become genuinely intertwined in a naturally evolving way that inches Utah further towards that kamikaze impulse. Bodhi’s charisma and aura sucks Johnny right in, but it’s never manipulative. Everything Bodhi conveys is honest straight to his core, and every word of it energizes Johnny. Most action films have a clear delineation between the protagonist and the antagonist, but here, things are not so clean cut. Once Johnny is caught up in Bodhi’s tsunami of pure adrenalin, there’s no way out, and he has to ride it out all the way to its heart pounding, violent end. Bodhi will push everything to its absolute breaking point while risking everything and everyone in the process, and there is a price to pay for it.
Quite frankly, this would have to be the movie that made me a serious Keanu Reeves fan. A lot of people give him crap, but I give him a lot of credit. There’s a great deal of subtle development of Johnny Utah between Reeves’ performance and Bigelow’s direction. This all occurs as he further embraces the philosophy of Bodhi and his love for Tyler. Keanu Reeves and Lori Petty have very pure, heartwarming chemistry. Tyler is vibrant and full of brightness that adds glowing life to Johnny. Meanwhile, as the connection between Johnny and Bodhi intensifies, so does the performance of Reeves. Johnny becomes more confident, more determined, and less bound by rules as he is propelled out of control through Bodhi’s deadly thrill ride. I feel Reeves becomes more compelling as the third act shifts into high gear, and Johnny has to has to jump right off the deep end after Bodhi.
Kathryn Bigelow’s direction really envelopes you into Johnny’s mindset whether he’s mesmerized, haunted, elated, or burning with conviction. Through all of this Reeves is genuine and sincere in his emotions. You are kept very closely in tuned with Johnny’s mindset through successes, failures, and conflicts. Point Break is a film that drives everything right to the edge. Every danger, every extreme, every adrenalin rush is pushed to its insane limits at whatever cost imaginable. Bodhi embraces this without hesitation or a moral compass. He’s essentially a barreling freight train unwilling to put on the brakes regardless of what it will cost him.
Patrick Swayze is wickedly good as Bodhi. He envelopes the character entirely in philosophy, conviction, physicality, and spirituality. I love how Bodhi has this ethereal link to the sea, and gains a serenity from surfing while being an extreme adrenalin junkie. Yet, it’s not merely about the thrill with the bank robberies. He has a greater purpose by showing the shackled masses living their mundane, slave to the grind lives that the human spirit is thriving within his crew. Swayze is so electrifying with his natural charisma and intense commitment to the character. When I watch this film, I don’t perceive Patrick Swayze playing a role. I see Bodhi through and through. Swayze is stunningly excellent here, and I’m still a little sad that he is no longer with us. He was an amazingly talented actor, and this should stand as one of his best, most compelling performances.
Rounding out the main cast is Gary Busey in a great, entertaining role as Angelo Pappas. He can be hilariously funny and quirky, but solidly dramatic in the right moments. It’s a really well rounded character portrayed by an actor with the smart talent to balance those elements out perfectly. Plus, there’s John C. McGinley as FBI Director Ben Harp. Surely, he might seem like the stereotypical loud mouthed boss slinging insults around to his subordinates, but McGinley’s such a strongly talented actor that it never comes off as shallow or tired. Add in a touch of smug arrogance, and the character of Harp works dead-on-the-mark in McGinley’s hands.
The musical score by Mark Isham is really fantastic. For one, I love how he captures the enveloping spiritual sense of the sea with smooth, flowing compositions. It’s very beautiful work that reflects the philosophies of Bodhi long before he enters the film officially. There is another gorgeous cue that reflects the mystique of Bodhi that’s only a few chords, but it’s repeated a few times to very magical effect. The action cues are good, yet subtle. Isham never bombards you with pounding percussion.
The soundtrack is energized with songs that capture that Southern California feel from bands such as L.A. Guns, Concrete Blonde, Jimi Hendrix, Public Image Ltd., and capped off with my beloved “Nobody Rides For Free” by Ratt. That song perfectly concludes the film, and reflects the constant energy and excitement that runs through it.
The film really escalates to another level when Johnny realizes who the Ex-Presidents actually are, and that super charges every scene from there on out. The emotions hang on the razor’s edge. For Bodhi, it ups the stakes making the adrenalin rush and peril even more appetizing for him. For Johnny, it creates conflict as he has forged a very close bond and kinship with Bodhi, but is soon forced to do whatever is necessary as Tyler is put into imminent peril. Unlike most action movies such as Die Hard where it’s very straight forward that this is the bad guy and he’s going to die without question, Point Break makes it all far less certain because all of these emotions, some are unexplainable, cloud and complicate the issue. What all of this builds to is possibly my favorite movie ending of all time that entirely departs from all action film expectations.
The relationship between Johnny Utah and Bodhi reaches its apex on a storm soaked beach. Their connection remains electrifying as these two clash, but it’s not the fist fight that makes this as great as it is. Johnny finally has Bodhi in handcuffs ready to put him in a cage for life, but it’s that spiritual kinship between the two that sparks off something unique. All the groundwork for this ending is laid early on in the film in one scene over a bonfire, and the pay-off is amazing to me. Point Break is my favorite action film not because it has the best action sequences, or because of its pleasantly memorable dialogue. It’s because of the culmination of this ending. Everything that these two characters have developed between each other throughout the movie is so smartly interwoven, setup, and punctuated here. It concludes an amazing arc for Johnny Utah who begins as this clean cut rookie FBI Agent who changes into someone driven by impulse, emotion, and that inexplicable sensation he gets out on those waves. He pursues Bodhi down around the world for months on end, but in those final moments with an honest plea from Bodhi that only Johnny can understand fully, you get an ending that breaks a lot of rules in all the right ways. This ending captivates me to no end that I have attempted to homage and replicate in many of my own scripts.
Karthryn Bigelow did not have any real box office success prior to this film, despite turning out some quite good films such as Near Dark and Blue Steel. With Point Break, she really came into fruition with a greatly exciting, fresh, and original summer action picture that really delivered. She shows a great visual style here that pinpoints emotion greatly and really envelopes you into every fiber of this film. Possibly less than half of Bigelow’s movies in her thirty year career have actually been box office successes, and that’s a horrible shame. I think she is an incredible director who showed a great deal of potential here, which she would capitalize upon in with stunning results in Strange Days. Her collaboration on both pictures with now ex-husband James Cameron really shows through in all the best ways. Point Break shares some common ground with Cameron’s work, and even he draws some parallels between the endings of this movie and Terminator 2. Regardless, I will take no credit away from Bigelow who gave us this excellent pure adrenalin rush of a movie which has not been replicated since. I think it goes without saying that I recommend this movie with great passion.
I’ve made some mentions of the Die Hard clone in recent months in reviews of Sudden Death, Olympus Has Fallen, and more. Now, just because you’re the first do something, or the one who sets the trend doesn’t always mean you did it best. However, in the case of John McTiernan’s blockbuster action film Die Hard, there is simply no equal. While I don’t list it as my number one favorite of all time, I cannot deny that this is likely the best action movie ever made, and there are a lot of qualities that go into making it that exceptionally awesome.
NYPD Detective John McClane (Bruce Willis) has come to Los Angeles to spend Christmas with his estranged wife Holly (Bonnie Bedelia) at her company’s holiday party. However, as he waits for the festivities to end, the entire building is taken over by a heavily armed team perceived as terrorists, but their sinister leader, Hans Gruber (Alan Rickman), reveals that his interest is purely in greed. As the hostages are rounded up, McClane slips away with only his service revolver and his cunning wits at his disposal. What begins as a perfectly planned crime quickly ignites into McClane waging a one man war to save everyone before they are all blown sky high.
There are many things that set Die Hard apart from everything else, but I think the biggest key of it are the characters. Beyond just the performances, this film takes its time to introduce them to you, and allow for their dynamics and personalities to play out before any of the action begins. This is mainly the development between John and Holly McClane. Their turbulent marriage is fleshed out in smart, subtle beats that never feel like exposition, just natural conversation. These are real, relatable people in a grounded reality with normal problems that are soon thrust into an extraordinary situation, and because we get to know these characters through levity and emotional conflict, we care greatly about them once peril befalls them. Even the villains are given their due time to feel fleshed out and dimensional such as how Hans Gruber discusses men’s suits, art, and culture with Takagi before threatening him with a gun for the password to his vault. These moments make Gruber an interesting and engaging villain who has a fairly equal amount of depth to John McClane. This way, it is also a battle of wits and personalities as much as it is a pure action conflict. This is so much due to the time director John McTiernan and his screenwriters took to slip those important character building moments into the film, and that makes it a greatly more substantive action film that you would regularly get in any decade.
Now, the 1980’s were filled with the larger than life, nigh indestructible action hero. Then, comes along John McClane. This guy who is as vulnerable as the rest of us that gets beaten up, his feet sliced up by glass, bleeds everywhere, feels fear, and gets progressively worse for wear as the film goes on. All the while, under the intense stress of a violent life or death scenario, he’s cracking wise with everyone left and right just doing what he can to cope and survive. Where a Rambo or John Matrix type would just burst in blazing a full arsenal to wipe out everyone, McClane has to be clever and cautious every step of the way against these extremely well-armed killers. All he has is his wits, and Bruce Willis’ well established comedic talents blended perfectly into the quick witted quips of McClane. I’m sure there was speculation abound leading up to this film’s release as to Willis’ ability to be an action hero because of doing so many comedies, but he was able to bring a completely unique identity to this role that is hard to match. While it is the wisecracks that we remember so much, the purely human moments of drama really sell this character as one that stands apart from so many others. Bruce Willis really shows that he could do the full spectrum of acting here as he leads this film with charisma, heart, and physical intensity. He brings a fresh dimension and grounded realism to McClane that makes him the beloved, very human, bad ass icon that we so love.
Just how McClane is a distinct departure from the action heroes of the day, Hans Gruber distinguishes himself from many of the over the top, cheesy villains of the 80’s. Alan Rickman is brilliant as Hans Gruber. What truly makes this so is that he’s not obvious at all. Gruber is a guy who is smart, charming, smooth, educated, and charismatic. Yet, he’s a calculated, clever, ruthless villain. You can see that Gruber had every single detail of this plan plotted out perfectly, and is able to outsmart and keep ahead of everyone except for the one wild card in his brilliant crime in John McClane. As much of an sociopathic, murderous villain as Gruber is, you can be thoroughly entertained by the charisma and intelligence Alan Rickman injects into him, but you still rejoice when McClane finally does him in.
A little unexpected humor arises from the less than sharp minded LAPD and FBI. Paul Gleason’s Chief Robinson is clearly in over his head exercising clear incompetence while thinking he’s got everything under control. Then, FBI Agents Johnson and Johnson, a joke in and of itself, are too full of themselves with their gung ho testosterone to be perceptive enough to know when they’re being played. Add in more competent, yet still funny characters like Argyle the limo driver and Theo, Hans’ charismatic safe cracker, you’ve got laughs for miles without damaging the serious integrity of the action and drama of the movie. This is seriously one of the most quotable action movies ever.
Yet, amidst all the explosive thrills and well-timed humor, we get the tether of humanity with Sergeant Al Powell. Reginald VelJohnson connects perfectly in this role bringing the tired, wounded, and alone McClane into contact with someone on the outside who can be a moral and emotional support. An action film is great when the thrills are exciting and bombastic, but you get something exceptional when this thread of humanity is so strongly in place. VelJohnson gives us the full spectrum from lovable and funny to heartfelt and compassionate to stern conviction. Powell is ultimately given some depth and substance showing that this film wasn’t going to take a shortcut anywhere at all. The very human moments between Powell and McClane are a special strength.
But indeed, the action is ultimately the driving force of this movie, and once that spark of excitement is lit, it runs on pure adrenalin with riveting intensity and masterful execution. This is big action with a real sense of gravity and peril. The scale makes it amazingly fun and exciting while the weight of the drama makes it suspenseful and electrifying. I love the subplot with Karl’s vendetta against McClane for the murder of his brother, and when the two finally clash, it’s awesome. After all of the heavy gunfire and explosions, the few minutes of visceral raw physicality are a breath of fresh air before the scale of the action escalates further with the roof exploding signaling the third act rocketing forward. Die Hard does nothing but amaze you at every turn. Every step of the way, we care about these characters in the thick of danger, and we gradually see it escalate as Gruber’s plan unfolds. It’s also great seeing McClane figure things out a little at a time, such as wondering why Hans was on the roof, and then, realizing he plans to blow it sky high with all the hostages on it.
I tend to write these reviews while watching the movie so to pick up on all the nuances, but Die Hard is so consistently engaging, thrilling, and entertaining that I could hardly tear my attention away to type anything up. Whether it is the absolutely wickedly awesome action, the touching character building moments, or the great laughs it elicits from an audience, Die Hard is the perfect example of executing an action film correctly. There’s not a moment wasted, and the editing is dead-on sharp and perfect in its pacing and timing. Moments are so excellently punctuated with the right cut, and even more so with Michael Kamen’s remarkably intense and spectacular score. His is a masterwork of brilliant, sophisticated action film compositions. Not to mention, this is an expertly shot movie using those beautiful anamorphic lenses and that cinemascope widescreen canvas to accentuate the scale of the action. And where many action films today can barely keep the camera steady long enough to understand the geography of a single scene, McTiernan and cinematographer Jan de Bont do so many subtle things to layout the geography of this entire building. Early on, they walk you through the entire central area of the Nokatomi Tower over the opening credits so you understand where the hallways, elevator, offices, and stairway are so we can navigate it as competently as the characters. As the film goes on, we revisit the conference room, the elevator shafts, and the roof to maintain a familiar environment for the action. As a film lover and a filmmaker myself, this movie just makes me gush from a technical standpoint as it is so perfectly executed in every moment. This film is exquisitely made from a massively talented team of filmmakers, sonic geniuses, and brilliant visual artists.
This film was adapted from the Roderick Thorp novel Nothing Lasts Forever, and many of the mind blowing and clever moments in the film are taken directly from the novel. McClane’s jump from the exploding roof with the fire hose wrapped around him, the C-4 bomb thrown down the elevator shaft, and more exist in Thorp’s novel. Apparently, it was a novel written as a sequel to The Detective, starring Frank Sinatra, but he declined the role. Years later, it was supposedly intended as a sequel to Commando, starring Arnold Schwarzenegger, before being re-fashioned into the action classic that we now know and love. Indeed, everything has its right time to come to fruition, and Die Hard happened in the right way at the right time with the right talent.
Between this and Predator, John McTiernan established himself as one of the premiere action movie directors of the time, and of course, this launched Bruce Willis into blockbuster super stardom. Despite how Willis now feels about doing action movies, saying he’s bored with them at this point, we will always have these pinnacles of the genre when Willis was in his prime and eager to do his absolute best. Die Hard is probably the most perfect action movie I have ever seen as it hits all of the beats of excitement and character just right with a spot-on mix of drama and humor to make it an undeniably memorable experience. For anyone who has only ever seen either the fourth or fifth film in this franchise, you are doing a horrible disservice to yourself in basing the quality of Die Hard on those films. As I said from the start, there is simply no equal.
There seems to be an idea out there somewhere, I don’t know where it came from, that Predator 2 is a markedly inferior sequel. This is wholly unjustified. Surely, everyone has their own opinions on how this measures up to the original classic, but to me, this is a great follow-up which expands on the ideas and premise in exciting new ways. Predator 2 contains numerous admirable qualities, and is helmed by a director with a great eye for sleek visuals. Anything it doesn’t recreate from the original it replaces with a higher energy and larger scale action.
In the urban jungles of Los Angeles, Detective Lieutenant Mike Harrigan’s (Danny Glover) police force is at war with drug lords and gangs. But just as Harrigan admits he’s losing the fight, one by one, gang lords are killed by a mysterious, fierce adversary with almost supernatural powers – the Predator. Before long, the vicious creature begins to hunt the hunters – Harrigan’s men. Now, Harrigan doesn’t just want to bring the creature in – he wants to bring it down. However, he is hindered along the way by government Special Agent Peter Keyes (Gary Busey) who has a shady motive to his secretive investigation who knows more about this ultimate hunter than Harrigan even suspects.
Surely, you would think going from Arnold Schwarzenegger to Danny Glover would be a strange swerve. I always imagined that if this was made a few years later that it would be Wesley Snipes as Mike Harrigan, but I’ll be damned if Glover doesn’t deliver here. The character is designed as a seasoned cop who’s been fighting this unrelenting war on the Los Angeles streets for a long time. He’s dogged, inventive, and is a cop who plays by his own rules, taking a backseat to no one. Glover portrays this with the rugged determination of a consummate street cop. He doesn’t like the politics that get rammed down his throat, and he slickly, yet passionately sticks it back in their faces. However, he is wholly loyal to his team, and treats them with respect as comrades in arms because they are fighting a war. Glover also demonstrates the emotional depth of Harrigan when his closest friend, Danny Archuleta portrayed by Rubén Blades, is gruesomely killed by the Predator. The flashes of enraged vengeance, and the heartfelt moment at the gravesite show Glover had the talent and skill for this role, which also demanded a lot from him physically. He greatly delivers on that end, too. I think making him a distinctly different protagonist than Dutch was the right way to go.
Many will indeed enjoy Bill Paxton’s performance as the jokey Jerry Lambert. He’s the newest member of Harrigan’s team known as “The Lone Ranger.” He’s a guy that’s gotten a lot of ego stroking and glory, but he quickly becomes an enthusiastic team player. This is Paxton at his full charismatic and comedic richness. He adds the levity to break up the grisly heaviness of the film. The rest of the supporting cast is filled out by Rubén Blades and Maria Conchita Alonso as the seasoned members of Harrigan’s team. Both bring their top level enthusiasm and talent adding to the cast’s vibrancy. Then, we get the late, great original king of trash television Morton Downey, Jr. as the appropriately cast tabloid sleaze-miester Tony Pope. He’s puts in a fantastically entertaining performance.
Now, Arnold Schwarzenegger was approached to return for this film, but he turned it down to do Terminator 2. Thus, his role was rewritten as Peter Keyes and re-cast with Gary Busey. I think this was an equally beneficial turn of events. The story works supremely better not knowing what Keyes’ agenda is, and allowing for him to be an adversary and foil for Harrigan. Busey does an excellent job bringing forth his signature energy and leaning Keyes towards the smarmy, shady side. He’s smart and cunning, but still a self-serving government agent who cares more about his findings for the military than Harrigan’s war on violent gang crime.
Also, I love the Jamaican gang here. They are totally savage and chilling with King Willie being fantastically awesome. He brings the mysticism into the fold with a wickedly cool scene opposite Harrigan, but also, a greatly visualized confrontation with the Predator. Calvin Lockhart is so awesome in this role. The theatricality, mystique, and powerful presence he brings entirely does justice to his Royal Shakespeare Company roots. He delivers my favorite performance of the movie. Knowing that director Stephen Hopkins was born in Jamaica, it doesn’t surprise me how rich and memorable these characters are here.
The visual effects are distinctly improved from the first movie. The Predator vision is the most obvious example as the infrared and other modes have more distinct color separation and possibly are of a higher resolution. The optical effects of the Predator’s cloak are used more dynamically and are integrated into more complex environments. We see it in more motion and detail. My favorite effects shots in the whole movie are when the Predator squares off with King Willie. First off, the tracking shot of the cloaked feet walking through the water is brilliant work, and then, the reveal of the Predator in the rippling puddle is awesome. Seeing how these are done in the featurettes on the Special Edition DVD are astounding and what I’ve always loved about movie magic. These striking, innovative images are largely due to do director Stephen Hopkins’ great visual style.
Teamed with regular director of photography Peter Levy, Hopkins gives Predator 2 its own unique visual sleekness. It has a great use of dynamic, intriguing angles. The action is captured remarkably well, and we even get a few scenes of atmospheric, moody lighting. Two of the best shot scenes are, first, inside the slaughterhouse bathed in blue light where the Predators assaults Keyes’ team, and then, the entire climax inside the Predator spacecraft. Counterbalancing that blue with a largely orange color scheme there is another sign of Hopkins’ great visual sensibilities. Beyond just the color schemes, these sequences have great use of sweeping cranes and steadicams shots enhancing the production and artistic value of the film.
This new Predator is recognizable, but has a bit different look and feel to him. He feels more brazen. He’s taking bigger chances, and taking on greater numbers. Hunting in a major metropolitan area means he’s attracting more attention to his work. So, he’s not as calculated, in general, but when he finds a prey he really likes, such as Harrigan, he takes his time to study him. He also taunts Harrigan as if he’s issuing an honorable challenge. I very much like that the filmmakers did this to show, even subtly, that this is another unique individual with his own personality, but with the same objective. It’s also great seeing the arsenal expand with the telescoping spear, the projectile net, and the flying disc. It gives the impression of a larger safari at hand where he’s equipped for bigger game. Kevin Peter Hall, yet again, does an awesome, exceptional job overall. He defined this role so perfectly, and it is a terrible shame that his life ended only a few years later. However, what he did laid the template for others to succeed him in this franchise.
The strengths of Predator 2 is that it is much more energetic and diversely entertaining than the original. The pace is faster as there is more going on here between the gang wars, Peter Keyes’ shady dealings, and Harrigan’s own dogged investigation. The action sequences are bigger and more dynamic allowing for a higher body count, but not as much gore. The film originally gained an NC-17 rating, but likely, Fox panicked and did more aggressive editing to secure an R rating. There is still blood abound and plenty of violence, but far less cadavers begin ripped apart. What we do see in that regard is obscured or done in heavy shadow. So, it ups the energy and action, but reduces the graphic content a little.
I would agree that these characters are not quite as captivating as those in the original. Neither film delves deeply into their characters, but it’s just the nature of battle hardened soldiers in a ominous jungle versus tough, seasoned cops on the streets of Los Angeles. One if inherently more intriguing than the other. There’s a little more levity in this film akin to a wisecracking John McClane in areas as Harrigan’s fear manifests in a few humorous quips. Since the film focuses more on an energetic pace with a more divided focus, there’s little mystique about the Predator himself. Again, he’s much more blunt and brazen, but you do lose that intensely dramatic build up to the third act. The Peter Keyes subplot sort of veers the emotional drive of Harrigan off-track, and the climax just becomes about having to stop this alien one way or another. There’s no more survival aspect, just hero versus villain. There is some peril throughout the third act, but none of it rivals the dire lethality and immediacy of the first film.
Still, the little teases we get at the end with both the Alien skull in the trophy room, the reveal of the half dozen other Predators onboard the spacecraft, and the flintlock pistol with the engraving of the year 1715 on it lay big seeds for a follow-up. However one might have felt about this movie, it surely left you intrigued to see how the next film could expand on these concepts further, but a proper third movie would not see fruition for another twenty years.
Predator 2 may not hit all the great qualities of the film first, but has entertaining trade-offs making it a more lively, faster paced action film. It again has a solid cast filling their roles with vibrancy. The violence and intense action are enhanced by stylish, sleek visuals and excellent editing. The optical visual effects are stunningly impressive pushing the ambition further, and with more time to plan, Stan Winston Studios developed the Predator further with great new weaponry and a fresh look. Alan Silvestri also returns adding some new flavors to his original themes, and adapting some of the feel to this film’s style and content. I would like to pay tribute to Kevin Peter Hall, Calvin Lockhart, and Stan Winston who have all passed on since this film’s release. All three did stunning work here that deserves notable credit and praise. This franchise, outside of the AVP films, has maintained a fairly steady stream of quality. The screenwriters of the first movie returned to expand on their own concepts, and it was executed very well by a competent and capable director. Predator 2 s definitely worth your while. It’s not as slam bang amazing as the first, but it’s a largely worthy sequel.
On a midnight screening in August, 2004, my entire filmmaking aspirations changed with this film. While I had seen Thief previously, Collateral struck a brilliant, fascinating chord in my creative mind. While I consider The Insider to be Michael Mann’s best film to date, and Manhunter to be my favorite, there is a special unique quality to this movie that I love. I believe it stems from the atmosphere of isolation and nature of introspection that Mann delves into. Above all else, Tom Cruise puts in one of the best performances of his career under Mann’s direction.
Max (Jamie Foxx) has lived the mundane life of a cab driver for 12 years. The faces have come and gone from his rearview mirror, people and places he’s long since forgotten – until tonight. Vincent (Tom Cruise) is a contract killer. When an offshore narco-trafficking cartel learns they are about to be indicted by a federal grand jury, they mount an operation to identify and kill the key witnesses, and the last stage is tonight. Tonight, Vincent arrives in L.A., and five bodies are supposed to fall. Circumstances cause Vincent to hijack Max’s taxicab, and Max becomes collateral – an expendable person in the wrong place at the wrong time. Through the night, Vincent forces Max to drive him to each destination. And as the LAPD and FBI race to intercept them, Max and Vincent’s survival becomes dependant on each other in ways neither would have imagined.
I love how the movie is soaked into this dark, isolated feeling of the night. While the film has those first few minutes of transition from the late afternoon into nightfall, it feels right. We are getting an easy, gradual introduction to Max along with a very brief and enigmatic one to Vincent. At this point, the film is relaxed and getting you comfortable, but once night sets in, the mood begins to soak in. Los Angeles descends into this sparse, disconnected landscape. There’s a sense of vast emptiness which isolates our characters into a somber atmosphere. There maybe pedestrians in the background, traffic on the roads, but Max and Vincent are in their own reclusive scenario apart from the awareness of anyone around them. Michael Mann achieves that deeply penetrating mood throughout the movie with a brilliant use of cinematography, music, and environments. The nighttime world of Los Angeles is alive with danger and lethal threats on an ever-accelerating ride into darkness.
In the beginning of the film, there’s some lovely, heartfelt chemistry between Jamie Foxx and Jada Pinkett-Smith in a cab ride together. It’s a beautiful, warm introduction to both characters who we need to greatly empathize with as the film progresses. This is especially true for Pinkett-Smith’s character of Annie, a prosecutor for the U.S. Attorney, who doesn’t return to the film until the final act, but she makes such a wonderful, adoring impression that we haven’t forgotten a thing about her by then. Both actors make a rich use of those few minutes of screentime together, and Michael Mann really strikes a different chord than he has before. In his other films, it’s usually two people that have already had some history together, or are already married with some kind of emotional or ideological strain upon them. We hardly see the initial spark of a romantic relationship, and never has it been this sweet and charming. Jada Pinkett-Smith does a spectacular job in this role throughout all the light-hearted, heart-warming, and emotionally and physically intense demands upon her.
Jamie Foxx surely deserved the supporting actor Oscar nomination he got here. He absorbs himself fully into Max, grasping the details of the character with a lot of care. Max is surely a flawed person, but that’s what makes him relatable and real. Max is an entirely unlikely hero. He’s just a cab driver opposing a trained professional killer, but it’s that intensely real fear and genuine humanity of Max that makes him work. He’s not designed to battle Vincent on a physical level. Instead, it’s slowly getting into Vincent’s head, unraveling who he is and how he works that allows Max to gain some measure of courage to fight back against him. However, it’s that journey from the guy who can’t even muster up the courage to ask Annie for her phone number, let alone out on a date, to someone that does take a stand against this cold, vicious killing machine which makes Foxx’s performance amazing. It’s Max’s experience with Vincent, especially when he’s forced to impersonate Vincent in a meeting with cartel lord Felix, that begins to bring out that self-confidence. Vincent repeatedly criticizes Max for taking abuse from his boss, allowing his mother to believe in false truths about his line of work, and being a general pushover that inadvertently mold and motivate Max into being an adversary instead of a frightened hostage. Your attention might gravitate to the stronger personality of Vincent as the standout, but Jamie Foxx delivers a very textured, emotionally realistic, and genuine performance that does have a lot of substance and standout qualities about it.
Tom Cruise starts out as his usual charming self as Vincent, who warms himself up to Max so to convince him to hang with him through the night, feeding him a story of being a real estate agent. It’s then a beautiful turn when that cold, calculating sociopath emerges. That intimidating edge shows through immediately, and I love that you can see the gears turning in Vincent’s head. He checks his surroundings, seeing who might’ve witnessed the dead body crashing onto Max’s cab, and determines his next move. This is the detail Michael Mann instills in his actors in order to portray these characters as realistic, intelligent people with a specific way of thinking and reacting with a depth of history that stretches beyond the context of this story. Vincent is a fascinating character with a complexity and depth that is the brilliant result of Mann and Cruise’s collaboration mixed with Stuart Beattie’s excellent screenplay. He is a stone cold sociopath that has a justification for everything he does, and he regularly tries to impart that onto Max. Perceiving a few dead bodies as insignificant on a cosmic scale makes it no wonder that he is so disassociated from any semblance of humanity. Most of us rarely think of the repercussions of our actions on even a global scale, and the closer, more immediate the consequences are, the greater they have impact on our choices. Vincent is likely the epitome of Neil McCauley’s “thirty seconds flat” rule from Heat of abandoning everything at a moment’s notice in order to stay ahead of the law. McCauley dictated that in order to do so, you must not have attachments to anyone or anything, or risk being caught. However, Vincent is even more than that as there’s clearly a far deeper, more emotionally fractured explanation for being as he is, and it is not just from a matter of staying out of a prison cell. Tom Cruise conveys that complexity with masterful skill and a dash of natural charisma that makes him compelling. There is so much depth and nuance to what Tom Cruise delivers in this performance of a sociopathic hitman that finds himself slowing cracking throughout this night that I couldn’t possibly detail all of it without making this into an entire essay about him. If you want that, I immensely suggest listening to Michael Mann’s commentary on the film. It provides more detailed insight than I can do justice to here. In short, Tom Cruise is riveting and brilliant as Vincent, and delivers a relentless performance unlike any you’ve seen from him. He’s an entirely different, fully absorbed animal in this film, and Vincent is a testament to Mann’s extensive work of building a character from the ground up, from the inside out with a massively talented actor.
The scene that sells the lethal threat of Vincent is the incident with the gangbangers who steal his briefcase. The razor sharp reflexes he demonstrates in taking both of them down is near unreal, and shows that this is a man of hard earned, professional skills that should not be tested. If he wants you dead, you’ll be a corpse before you know it. As I’ve mentioned in past reviews, Tom Cruise is an amazingly dedicated physical actor. He will put himself through whatever rigorous training is necessary to make his performance everything it needs to be on every level. These skills are not learned easily or quickly. Cruise had handled firearms before in the Mission: Impossible films, but this was a whole different level of discipline and dedication. And indeed, it shows through in how he carries himself, how he cases his surroundings, and operates like an efficient machine in every action sequence. He creates a full, total package that gravitates energy around him.
Furthermore, I really like Mark Ruffalo as Detective Fanning. His look is excellent as a narcotics cop who looks like a dealer, but seeing him in the thick of things, you can see this is an LAPD Detective that is intelligent, instinctive, and seasoned. He’s a consummate professional, but is also very streetwise and perceptive. Ruffalo strikes that perfect balance which makes both work cohesively. Fanning follows through on his instincts and intellect despite anyone’s insistence to the contrary, making him a capable secondary protagonist an audience can get behind. He’s hotly on the trail of what’s going on as more and more bodies go down, and that motivates the law enforcement end of the story forward as they try to secure what witnesses they have left before Vincent can eliminate them.
Collateral is filled with solid supporting actors like Peter Berg’s combative Detective Weidner or Bruce McGill’s hard edged FBI Agent Pedrosa. However, the two best standouts are Barry Shabaka Henley and Javier Bardem. Henley portrays Daniel, the owner of a jazz club, and he gives us two brilliant showings in his scene. The first is Daniel’s passion for jazz music as he relates a story about meeting Miles Davis, and the stunning impression it made in his life. Then, when the scene turns imminently lethal, we see the purely human fear and subtle tremble that courses through his body. It’s an inspired performance, and Daniel is someone that has a noticeable resonance upon Vincent. This is the first moment where we see his sociopathic exterior cracking, and it is a gorgeous moment of dramatic and emotional storytelling.
Javier Bardem is just excellent as the cartel lord Felix. He’s strongly intimidating and intelligent, but one of conservative emotion. You can see the fire underneath when he learns that Vincent has lost his hitlist, but he’s a confident man that knows how to deal with problems decisively but has a short tolerance for failure. Bardem has only one scene, but he makes a strong, intriguing impression that resonates for a quite a while after his screentime has ended. It’s stellar work by him all around.
I think Collateral is possibly the Michael Mann film that most deeply peers into its lead characters. While Manhunter gets very deep into their psychology, Collateral is focused more on the emotional level. It shows what makes Vincent and Max who they are from the heart and soul outwards. These two starkly different men are inexplicably connected on this violent, dangerous ride, and they each peer deeper into one another’s souls. Collateral simply broods with this fascinating level of deep, introspective drama making itself just as much about the complex nature of its characters as it is about its adrenalin pumping danger and occasional action.
One of the things that attracted Michael Mann to this project was the idea of a compressed timeline. All events take place over a single night which creates an inherent energy and urgency to the story and the actions of the characters. Everything’s going down now, and there’s no tomorrow to deal with it. There’s also the great feeling like we’re in the third act of another story, that of Felix’s impending indictment. All of these events have already taken place to move these people into these exact situations on this night, and we’re dropped into a story where everything is already in motion. Everything’s moving forward at a brisk pace, and there’s no slowing down now. The whole movie has this feeling of an impending deadline. The feeling that we’ve long passed the point of no return well before this movie began, and it’s all full speed ahead from here. It’s not a film of break neck pace, but Mann is able to maintain that sense of urgency very cleverly through the actions and behavior of these characters. The pacing itself is great, tight, and dead-on. There’s such a great punctuation of drama and emotion using everything Mann has at his disposal at exactly the right doses at exactly the right times. It’s an amazingly well edited movie.
Collateral features an awesome collection of score and music from eclectic artists. The primary score is provided by James Newton Howard who creates the most emotional and stirring cues of the film. It has the most presence and creates the grim sense of isolation and somber reality. Howard is also responsible for the long form, tense, suspenseful, and ultimately, driving percussion score in the film’s action climax. Antonio Pinto also has some excellent pieces of score that really penetrate the soul of select moments. The addition of Audioslave to the soundtrack was a stroke of genius as “Shadow On The Sun” perfectly fits the vibe and tone of this movie. It’s only one track, but it is used in a very memorable sequence. Appropriately, we get some jazz in there, and a few other contemporary music tracks that oddly don’t feel dated in the least. It’s been nearly nine years since the film’s release, and it still feels fresh, original, and excitingly new to me. I own this soundtrack, and it is still a wonderful, moody listen to this day.
The vast majority of Collateral was shot on high definition digital video, and for this movie, it works beautifully and brilliantly. Mann knew he couldn’t get that depth of clarity to see into the nighttime landscape of L.A. if he shot on film. So, he embraced this new technology to create a signature look for Collateral. What makes it work for this movie where it didn’t as much for Miami Vice or especially Public Enemies is how well it is shot. I believe the cinematography work of Paul Cameron and Dion Beebe should have been given far more recognition at the time than it did. It got some nominations and wins from a few organizations, but it may have been the unique digital video look of the movie that might have deterred some. I embraced this look, and it inspired me to no end. It still does. Collateral is a brilliantly shot movie with an amazing use of color temperatures that evoke certain moods throughout. It’s much different than Manhunter in that its feels very urban and grounded with the sodium vapor and mercury vapor street lights creating diffused orange, green, and turquoise tones. It just makes the night come alive in a new way that had never been achieved with such vibrant, dramatic results before. It’s also remarkable how so much of the film takes place in that cab, and each scene gives us a new camera angle or composition that suits the context of that scene. It never gets repetitive or dull. These filmmakers had to get inventive, and they ultimately achieved something with get artistic value. There is plenty of handheld work, but it’s done immensely well. Public Enemies was a blatant example of doing it terribly, and Miami Vice simply employed it too much to where it almost became a crutch. The cinematography of Collateral is very similar to that in The Insider, but progressed further and given more vibrancy than before. And those overhead aerial shots of Los Angeles are simply striking and inspired. I’ve since seen this replicated in many other films and television shows, and I immediately make the connection back to Collateral when I do.
We have very few action scenes here, but the large doses we get are riveting and awesome. The biggest is the Korean night club sequence where Max, Vincent, the FBI, and more converge in a violent exchange of physicality and gunfire. It’s an excellently done sequence with sharp editing and a pulsating remix of Paul Oakenfold’s “Ready Steady Go.” Vincent weaves his way through the sea of club-goers, dispatching of bodyguards with merciless efficiency, but it ultimately all breaks down into chaos. Yet, it is this turning point in the film where all the law enforcement and other elements surrounding Max and Vincent are stripped away, and we’re left with a lean, intense final act. As Vincent hunts his final target through a dark office of reflective surfaces, we are treated to some taut suspense and edge-of-your-seat tension. This is another instance where only digital video could’ve been used. On film, this would’ve been an unintelligible blob of nothing, but the high definition video gives the low light detail that feels so atmospheric and visually amazing. The climax is just excellently done on so many levels, and ends with poignant drama. I know there was a time early on that I felt the ending left a little to be desired, but I’ve since gained the understanding of it all with full respect and appreciation. This is a very introspective film that documents Vincent’s somber emotional deterioration over this one night, and it ends with a weight of purpose and ironic reflection. The climax might be very adrenalin pumping, ramping up the imminent, lethal danger of Max and Annie, but the final moments resolve the character depth and emotional resonance we’ve seen build up throughout this film. It is a brilliant work of screenwriting by Stuart Beattie forged and meticulously crafted by the masterful talent of Michael Mann.
This is an amazing film that has a different substance of depth than Mann had given us before, and wraps that up in a very riveting, tense crime thriller. Cruise and Foxx have excellent chemistry together that even sparks one or two humorous beats. It’s just a great, happy surprise sparked from two great talents that have that charismatic spark of brilliance. Overall, it’s a film that still inspires and drives me to this day to be a creative filmmaker in the dark crime genre where characters like Vincent are immensely fascinating, complex, and violent individuals. I reference Michael Mann’s work often enough in my reviews of crime thrillers that I definitely want to actually get more reviews of his films done. I’ve already done Miami Vice and Manhunter, but those were a good year apart. Collateral should be the start of me covering more of his filmography in a shorter span of time with Thief, Heat, and The Insider surely on my slate for this year. Reviews like this are more than just telling you if the movie is good or bad, but instead, they are delving into the depth of it all to really discover what truly makes it great and why it has enthralled me so much. However, look for some potentially shorter reviews soon for a few soon-to-be-released movies that I hope will be quite good, but we’ll see.
I don’t know what it is about William Friedkin’s movies that I keep missing what everyone else sees in them. I do keep meaning to watch The French Connection, but for the few films of his I have seen, they have eventually fallen short of expectations. I’ve heard a few people call To Live and Die in L.A. a great movie. One even called it a masterpiece. I have to strongly, heavily disagree with that. This is the second time I’ve seen the movie, and my opinion of it hasn’t changed. Friedkin seemed to be trying to channel a Miami Vice vibe with this movie, but the quality of this would be a rather mediocre episode of that largely excellent series. I will surely give credit that there is good content here and a solid lead performance by William Petersen, but the film left a lot to be desired, especially with its finale.
Federal Secret Service Agent Richard Chance (William Petersen) has a score to settle, and he’s through playing by the rules. Whether that means blackmailing a beautiful parolee, disobeying direct orders, or hurtling the wrong way down a crowded freeway, he vows to take down murderous counterfeiter Rick Masters (Willem Dafoe) by any means necessary. Saddled with a very by-the-book partner in Agent Vukovich (John Pankow), Chance struggles to catch Masters in the act with a risky undercover operation, but as the stakes grow higher, will Chance’s obsession with vengeance ultimately destroy him?
The film’s first major scene has Chance and his longtime partner, Jim Hart, thwart a suicide bomber at a hotel where the President of the United States is giving a speech. This scene is effective in establishing our characters, but surely comes off a little cheesy. It’s slightly reflective of the whole movie. It has good ideas and good talent in it, but never really hits the style and tone just right. Something like this opening scene was done with better results in two scenes from the director’s cut of Lethal Weapon – the sniper incident at the school and the suicide jumper, both of which involving Martin Riggs in a tense, potentially fatal situation. This suicide bomber scene lacks tension and weight to make it feel like a really solid, taut opening scene. It’s far from a bad scene, but it lacked that certain realistic weight to make it feel like anything but a throwaway moment. I did gain a measure of enjoyment from this movie up until the climax, but overall, I do feel that it lacked a hard hitting emotional quality to make the characters and events truly resonate.
I don’t know if this film started the cliché of the cop getting killed two days before retirement, but in retrospect, it seems extremely clichéd. Chance’s partner, portrayed by Michael Greene, goes out to investigate a lead on Masters alone, and gets gunned down while doing so. It does seem stupid that he’d go at it alone because it comes off like a cheap plot convenience. The only hypothesis I could offer is that perhaps he was possibly trying to avoid more of Chance’s dangerous habits, but even still, rarely does a federal agent work a case alone, let alone go poke around the possible hideout of a known violent criminal without back-up. This isn’t the smartest or most creative script, but for a standard action thriller, it is decent enough. Of course, I don’t think that’s the film William Friedkin believed he was making, but I digress, for now.
William Petersen is really what makes the movie particularly good or entertaining. He brings charisma to Richard Chance that has him command scenes, and easily gravitates an audience towards him. He fits the role wonderfully injecting strong doses of excitement and danger into him. You get that edgy, risk taker quality coming out in how Petersen works certain scenes. He’s a tough federal agent both physically and personality wise. When dealing with Ruth, he might use her for sex, but he’s not warm with her. She’s a tool to be used, and he won’t hesitate to have her parole revoked if she doesn’t cooperate. He’s also a man of action that takes matters firmly into his own hands, and runs with them regardless of risk or consequence. He pushes hard for what he believes in, even if it’s a vendetta against Masters. In Petersen’s hands, Richard Chance is a strong, fascinating character that has energy, conviction, and danger engrained into him. It’s a solid, well-rounded performance that enhances what was on the page, and gives it further dimension. There’s nothing I don’t like about this character or performance. It’s excellent.
There are good performances here from the rest of the cast, but the problem is that there is no insight into who they are. We know the surface level stuff, but there’s no perception into the depth of these characters. Willem Dafoe puts in some good work as Rick Masters with a few scenes of solid weight and villainous charisma. There is some attempt at delving into the psychology of the character with him being an artist, and more so, him burning his own paintings. However, the film is too preoccupied with the procedural crime elements to take the time to expand on those ideas to where they have any relevance. I know that Willem Dafoe is capable of such awesome, high quality performances that this one looks very mild by comparison. John Pankow plays his part without flaw, but also without showing anything worth noting. It’s a standard, flat character who has little to offer until the final twenty minutes of the film where he becomes a guilt ridden mess. Everyone does do a good job with the material given, but the material doesn’t have much substance for them to sink their talent into.
I will certainly give credit to that the film is well shot. It’s not stunning, but it is shot competently in all aspects. The occasional use of neon or vibrant color washes is effective and shows a dash of visual style. Aside from one five second shot of some of the worst shaky cam I’ve ever seen, the action is also committed to film solidly. Now, To Live And Die in L.A. does feature an odd style in terms of coverage. This becomes apparent in the latter half of the movie where dialogue scenes hold on a single character for an extended length of time. Usually, such scenes would have a regular rhythm of alternating cuts over the shoulder of each actor, but you’ll come to notice that even when the other actor is speaking, there is no cut to his or her face. It’s not even covered in a in-profile two shot. It stays on that one over-the-shoulder shot of the person who is not regularly talking, and stays there for probably half the scene. I cannot say if this is a good or bad idea without understanding the intention behind it. Oddly, this being pointed out to me is why I gave this film another look. As a filmmaker, I’m always open to new ways of doing things, and adopting new styles if they are compatible with my mentalities. In the end, it’s an interesting way of shooting or at least editing a scene, but I don’t think the film is particularly better or worse for doing this. It’s intriguing is all.
There is also some mixed reaction to offer on the action scenes. The chase through the airport where Chance runs down an accomplice of Masters, portrayed by John Turturro, is great and nicely succinct. It entirely works as a solid jolt of excitement, and I enjoy it thoroughly. No issues there. However, it is the big car chase scene that is the mixed bag. It is surely intense, well shot, and well edited. As the film’s major action sequence, it is quite well executed, to a degree. The entire rest of the film is filled with pop music and an energetic score, but this, its biggest action set piece, features no score of any kind at all. The difference a score makes in this situation is taking the sequence from being just “Oh, that’s dangerous,” to “Damn, that’s exciting!” A score builds up the adrenalin and enhances the imminent peril of the action. It can create that fever pitch of exhilaration that can make or break a scene. The absence of a score here doesn’t kill this scene, but it could have added so much more. Also, you might happen to notice that ALL of the traffic on the highway is going the opposite direction of what it should be. Everyone is driving on the left hand side of the road. Cars in the northbound lanes are travelling southbound and vice versa. I honestly don’t understand why this sequence was staged this way. Like with what I will get into with the film’s final act, it doesn’t make any sense and is ass-backwards.
Since I mentioned the score, I should elaborate on its quality. It’s better in some scenes than others, but generally, it’s just okay. I can’t quite wrap my head around hiring pop band Wang Chung to do the score for this entire film. The band had never done such a thing before, and were really only a mildly popular band. Sometimes these things work amazingly well such as with Tangerine Dream, and I think their scores for Thief and Risky Business are masterful works that capture a unique and brilliant atmosphere. Wang Chung’s score is fairly average with no real ambition or uniqueness to be of special note. Some of the songs in the film even fall on the low end of my quality spectrum. There was such better music of this genre in 1985 that it’s a bit disappointing that this was the best collection of music that could be assembled for this movie. The music just wasn’t memorable in the least to me.
Now, if you do not want spoilers about the film’s ending, skip this entire paragraph and the next. I cannot critique it without being explicit about what happens. I can respect throwing a swerve at the audience in killing your main character unexpectedly, but it has to be earned. There needs to be a thematic storyline running through this that builds up to such an abrupt, anti-climactic moment. Chance is unceremoniously shot in the face as soon as he and Vukovich move to arrest Masters, and it comes off like the most inane idea ever. I believe I can understand part of what Friedkin was attempting to achieve with this event which was entirely improvised on set. Chance is a guy that takes greater and greater risks, pushing things too far for his own obsessive ends. Maybe having him die in a poetic fashion where he does push it one step too far, and pays the price for it would potentially work. Instead, he goes out like a punk, a worthless nobody. The film doesn’t have that dramatic build up to make this work. Yes, he crossed a huge line with his heist from what were actual undercover FBI agents to come up with the front money for Masters, but the film lacks any form of thematic material to have all the reckless behavior culminate in anything. If we saw the obsession eat at him, tear his senses away, and push him beyond the limits to where he invites consequence upon himself, that would potentially make this ending work. The problem is that Chance honestly doesn’t seem much different from any other movie cop that bends the rules and crosses lines where he sees fit. He is a charismatic character, but in the scale of anti-heroes, he’s just above mild. A real great example of what I’m talking about would be in Point Break where the antagonist is an adrenalin junkie who pushes things so far that his friends pay the fatal price for it, and it comes down to one of my favorite endings in movie history that has poetic qualities to it. There’s a price to be paid for what he’s done, but the film handles it in such a perfect way that was setup early on. To Live and Die in L.A. has no setup for the abrupt, shallow murder of Richard Chance.
And it only gets worse from there. What is done with the John Vukovich character is ridiculous, and has no build up, either. After clearly deteriorating into this mess of a man whose conscience is haunting him over the death of the undercover FBI agent they stole from, the ending of the film throws us another swerve. They have Vukovich essentially become Chance. He dresses like him, acts like him, and plans to start using and abusing Ruth just like Chance did. None of this correlates with anything this character was going through at anytime during the rest of the film. It’s thrown in there to be “cool,” but it comes off as near laughable. This is a character that was against everything Chance was doing every step of the way, but kept getting ensnared into it, regardless. This isn’t someone who was going to abandon his by-the-book mentality and troubled conscience. He was more likely to psychologically fall apart and turn in his badge out of guilt. It makes no sense for Vukovich to willingly adopt the mentality of Chance when he was so strongly opposed to it, and after seeing where Chance’s reckless behavior lead him to.
If it wasn’t for this one-two punch of really bad ideas for an ending, I could give this movie a mild recommendation. Something that you could gain some decent enjoyment out of, but nothing to place big expectations for. I honestly feel that if To Live and Die in L.A. was a Michael Mann film, it would have been a thousand times better. If for nothing else, Mann would never in a million years employ the shallow swerves of an ending we got. Considering the following year he made Manhunter starring William Petersen, I think that statement carries a lot of weight. There are episodes of Miami Vice that are masterful works that are better than many feature film crime thrillers, and this film is no exception. As I said, Friedkin tries to channel that vibe and style, but it feels like a second rate imitation that doesn’t capture that emotional substance or sleek cinematic brilliance. He wanted it to be stylish, exciting, and smart, but it’s too lacking on all those fronts to succeed. The main issue with To Live and Die in L.A. is that it thinks it’s a smarter, sharper, edgier film than it really is when it is more or less an average action thriller. There’s barely any depth to the characters, the visuals aren’t anything special, the music is mediocre at best, and the screenplay is more focused on the procedural aspects than the character based ideas it thinks its ending pays off. It’s not a film I hate, aside from the ending, as I had a decent time watching it again, mainly due to Petersen’s performance, but I don’t see the masterpiece of crime cinema that others perceive in it. I’ve seen so much better from Heat to The Usual Suspects to Drive that you really need to work a lot harder to reach such standards.
I have had a rather unusual view on The Terminator for the longest time. I do consider it James Cameron’s best movie, and the best of this franchise. These are for reasons of pacing and innovative filmmaking. Yet, what I mainly consider this film as is not so much a science fiction movie, but essentially a techno-slasher film. You’ve got a hulking, invincible juggernaut of a killer stalking and hunting down an innocent young woman. That’s a bare bones plot description for both The Terminator and a Friday The 13th sequel. The vibe of the movie is very relentless and evokes a very techno-horror hybrid ideology. Beyond that quirk of perception, I do have many things to praise this film for that I feel James Cameron severely abandoned afterwards.
In the post-apocalyptic future of 2029, SkyNet, a super computer defense system wages a losing war against a human resistance which it is intent on exterminating. In their desperation, the machines send an indestructible cyborg known as The Terminator (Arnold Schwarzenegger) back in time to kill Sarah Connor (Linda Hamilton), the woman whose unborn son will become mankind’s only hope. In hopes of preserving humanity’s future, the human resistance sends soldier Kyle Reese (Michael Biehn) back in time as well to protect Sarah. But does he even stand a chance against the most unstoppable killing machine ever created?
Obviously, The Terminator has been widely praised since its release, and so, there’s not much I have to tell you that hasn’t already been said. Regardless, most of these reviews are about what these films mean to me and the nature of cinema, in general. James Cameron previously worked in the special effects world working on numerous lower budgeted pictures, but after a great deal of hard work and determination he scored his first major directorial job with this film. The budget was tight, but with Arnold Schwarzenegger’s growing star power from the Conan films, there was a lot of credibility and weight put behind this. Still, it wasn’t an easy task getting it made. The restrictions of budget and resources really did work towards the film’s benefit. It forced Cameron to be innovative and a bit of a guerilla filmmaker. It’s a perfect example of better creativity through adversity. As I mentioned in my Aliens review, I think once Cameron got a big budget and a lot of freedom as a filmmaker, he lost that edge and began to indulge in overly long films with far laxer pacing and storytelling techniques. He was still innovative in the technical realm, but not so much in the creative one where tight storytelling was concerned.
What I find to be so intelligent and original with what Cameron did with The Terminator is how he maintained tension and a tight cohesion of the plot. The main exposition in the film is dealt with in the midst of a car chase. The excitement and danger are high, keeping the audience intently invested in every second, and Cameron uses that time for Kyle Reese to impart a great deal of exposition about himself, the T-800, and the future war. In the vast majority of films, the exposition scene is a slow paced, quiet scene that is regularly the most derided scene in the film from the director’s perspective. Cameron changes that all up, and makes it one of the most captivating scenes by melding it with an intense chase sequence. From there, even the slower, character building scenes maintain some degree of urgency or dramatic electricity to never allow the film to lose your interest or attention. If not in the hands of James Cameron’s innovative and visionary filmmaking talent, I could surely see this movie slipping down into a B-grade sci-fi film that you’d see premiere on late night Cinemax. Believe me, those films do exist, and were heavily inspired by this far superior film. Having the right director at the helm can make a severe difference in whether a movie is brilliance or cheap exploitation fare.
This film is expertly shot with strong, sharp focus on every detail and bit of action. The night scenes are definitely gritty creating a dangerous edge and energy that wholly serves the tone and vibe of the picture. It brilliantly reflects the “tech noir” theme of the movie, showing us the dark side of technology. Cameron and his director of photography Adam Greenberg do a marvelous job all around. All of the action is shot with skill, dramatic weight, and great storytelling ability. Just in the way it is shot, The Terminator looks and feels like a 1984 film, and in all the best ways. It might have its rough edges here and there, but they work so excellently towards the energy of the picture. Overall, you can see the great, deliberate insert and close-up shots that establish and enhance the mood and tension of the film. The slow motion sequences are beautifully and masterfully done creating so much tension and dramatic anticipation. The editing of Mark Goldblatt is some of the tightest, most dead-on-the-mark work I’ve ever seen. There’s not an extraneous frame anywhere in the runtime of this movie. Every shot has purpose and cohesion to the kinetic and emotional beats of the story. Action directors of today should go back and watch this movie to see how you competently direct, shoot, and edit an action sequence. The car chases are great, but the entire police station massacre is insanely tense and masterfully shot and edited. It’s a major action set piece of the film, and it could not have been executed any better than it was. Yet, the climax is able to top that with a long series of action sequences from a car chase to the explosions to the final industrial plant confrontations. It continues to hammer home the seemingly indestructible nature of the Terminator as it continues to come back from one fiery explosion after another. It’s a frightening action climax where the monster simply will not die while our heroes continue to suffer more and more injuries hindering their ability to continue running away.
Michael Biehn is absolutely amazing as Kyle Reese. What strikes me first is the weathered, war torn quality of his performance. Reese does seem like a guy who has been through the darkest parts of hell on earth with both the psychological and physical scars to show for it. Biehn also has great physical intensity such as during the initial car chase where Reese is imparting the exposition to Sarah. There’s a depth of urgency, fear, and heart with every word he delivers. It creates someone that’s not just an action centric soldier, but a man with a solid core of humanity. The pain of Kyle Reese is deep seeded, and the trauma and pain that he has endured comes through in the texture of Biehn’s performance. This is a guy who does initially seem like an intimidating threat, almost serial killer like, but that intensity and frayed exterior are molded into a fascinating, sympathetic character that an audience deeply cares for before too long. Biehn’s romantic chemistry with Linda Hamilton is wonderful, and the tenderness that forms between them makes this so much more than just a testosterone fueled action picture. It has a lot of depth that has always been a strength of James Cameron’s films. He always seems to create very dimensional lead characters which enhance the nature of the films they populate. Why Michael Biehn’s acting career didn’t soar to greater heights after this movie is a mystery to me. It certainly did for Hamilton and Schwarzenegger.
It goes without saying that this was one of Arnold’s defining roles. While Conan the Barbarian was a big success, this propelled him into a whole new level of stardom. What he does at The Terminator was instantly iconic with only eighteen lines of dialogue. The deliberate movement and restrained mannerisms he devised for this Terminator create a cold, threatening, dominating screen presence. I have seen other lower grade actors attempt to approximate this sort of robotic performance, but Arnold just had something special. It’s the whole package from his size and build to the choice of punk or leather attire to the calculating way he surveys a scene. You can view a methodical yet relentless intelligence behind everything the Terminator does, and Schwarzenegger just hit it perfectly on the mark. There’s not a moment where you don’t take him as a serious, menacing threat, and after that is all solidly established by him, it carries over seamlessly when the flesh is burnt off and it’s just Stan Winston’s animatronic endoskeleton. While almost everyone seems to love when Arnold does the cheesy action films, I feel his best work is in the more serious roles because it creates a challenge for him. He has to dedicate himself to a far stronger character, and create something that stands out in a dramatic fashion. There are a lot of cheesy action heroes out there, but not many who can pull off the really serious, iconic roles such as Conan, the Terminator, or Dutch in Predator. Arnold can do both equally well, and that’s much of why he’s the action movie legend that he is today.
This film was especially pivotal to Linda Hamilton’s career, and the reasons why are vibrantly evident. While, as Sarah Connor, we see a great deal of panic and fear, it is all mixed in with a genuine sense of humanity. Sarah’s an average woman thrust into an extraordinarily intense and dangerous scenario, but ultimately, we see her inner strength shine through. When you first see her as a lowly waitress, you could never imagine she could come to survive and fight through this frightening, lethal experience with as much resilience as she ultimately displays. Hamilton gives us the full spectrum of emotion in an impressive dimensional performance that also adds in a layer of romanticism. The build up to the love scene between Sarah and Kyle is beautifully touching, and would be able to squeeze tears out of the more emotional audience members. That tenderness and depth of love and passion triggers the greater strength of the film that I mentioned before. It is a love scene that is not there for the sake of skin and titillation, but for the sake of love itself. At the film’s end, you can see the subtle seeds of what we will see Sarah become in Terminator 2: Judgment Day. In this film, Linda Hamilton is absolutely excellent giving us a sympathetic and strong character that stands the test of time.
And I have to mention the excellent performances of Lance Henriksen and the late Paul Winfield. Henriksen has some great humorous dialogue that is just enough off-kilter to be memorable. We’re so used to seeing Henriksen playing rather dark, disturbed characters, and so, it is a wonderful treat seeing him enjoy this upbeat, charismatic character. Winfield was always a stellar, sophisticated acting talent, and while Lieutenant Traxler has his streetwise qualities, he is a compassionate and intelligent commanding officer. He strikes the perfect balance between entertaining, charming character and capable, seasoned cop. Many films like this would paint all the cops as unlikeable fools, somewhat like Dr. Silberman is (appropriately enough), but instead, Cameron maintains his sense of humanity in these characters along with casting superb actors to realistically embody those qualities.
While the animatronics, stop motion, and optical effects work largely appears dated next to today’s sleeker digital effects, especially with the work done in the sequels, I think that gritty, rough edged effects work here benefits the overall style and feel of this movie. The stop motion animation in the climax evokes more of that techno-horror feeling taking the scary skeleton of the haunted house and meshing it with a dark science fiction menace. Stan Winston did an amazing job with all the physical effects further cementing his stature as an effects wizard and master of creature designs. Having clocked in stunning work with the Terminator, Predator, and Alien franchises, his quickly earned legendary status is no surprise. The visual effects were handled by Fantasy II, and for a mid-80s low budget science fiction picture, they did an excellent job. Combined with Cameron’s vibrant vision, they achieved something that really grabbed audiences’ attention at that time, and truly captivated their imagination. The brief future war sequences are stellar. The only thing I ever mark as a negative is the use of rear screen projection, which Cameron would use again in Aliens. It just never looks convincing, especially when compared to good quality blue screen composites. Regardless of that, these were very eye-opening effects in 1984, and they entirely serve the film’s dark, gritty tone.
The synthesizer based score done by Brad Fiedel encapsulates that tense, dark atmosphere of The Terminator. The compositions alone are excellent, and the main theme has become iconic. The use of the metallic percussion reflects the cold, mechanical heart of the Terminator, and gives us a rather chilling, ominous feeling whenever it appears. So many other cues are done with great feel for the intensity of their respective sequences maintaining the weight of the drama and action. Many instances again evoke a high tension horror atmosphere such as whenever the Terminator is seconds away from killing Sarah. The synthesizer sound perfectly fits for a 1984 tech-noir action film as it simply enhances that oppressive technological theme, and is an obvious sign of the times. However, it can get elegant and beautiful during the aforementioned love scene. Fiedel takes that heavy, almost claustrophobic type main theme, and rearranges it into a piano love theme that is sad, touching, and wonderfully gorgeous. While Fiedel would blow it out of the water with his work on Terminator 2: Judgment Day, what he does here is a solid, excellent fit for the kinetic energy and tense danger that is so tightly wrapped in this film while highlighting the depth that the film has to offer.
The Terminator is really amazingly well written. As I said, Cameron is able to raise the concept above the standard action movie fare by injecting dimension and emotional depth into his story and characters. They live and breathe as realistic people that an audience can attach themselves to, and that makes the rather fantastical story gritty, believable, and gripping. The dialogue is honest and real showcasing distinct personalities that leave a lasting impression, and with the stellar casting, it couldn’t be any more pitch perfect. It’s not just those iconic one-liners from Schwarzenegger or Biehn that make it great. It’s every nuanced quality of the characters and depth of the story being told that have made The Terminator a classic. Arnold Schwarzenegger has done movies with far more quotable dialogue, but they do not match the filmmaking quality and intelligence of this one. That is all due to the innovative creativity and artistic talent of James Cameron.
James Cameron had a vibrant vision for this movie, and was intensely driven to realize it on film. While he hasn’t lost vision, I do think he’s lost a number of exciting qualities that made The Terminator so exceptional. He used to be able to tell amazing and captivating stories in innovative and exciting ways. Even if the storytelling rhythm and cohesion became more lax in his subsequent films, we were still treated to things we hadn’t seen before, and were given stories that ignited our imaginations while still touching us deep in our hearts. The Terminator is an excellent example of what made Cameron a fascinating and awesome filmmaker for many years. However, as his budgets got bigger and his ego became overinflated, I just think he stopped caring about the story and characters, and was just more enamored with the evolution of visual effects and filmmaking technology. I would really wonder if someone gave James Cameron a $6.4 million budget today, could he still make a film as well made as this one.
This if my favorite film of the entire Terminator franchise, and I consider it the best film James Cameron has made. This is for the reasons of the tightness of the storytelling where not a scene, moment, or frame is wasted. While even Terminator 2 took the time it needed to tell the story it had to tell, I just love the relentless momentum of this movie. It has its character building scenes wrapped up nicely between and within the action sequences. No part of the film ever drags on. Coupled with all the amazing talents from the actors to the special effects mastery to the cinematography and editing, The Terminator is a lightning strike of stardom and awesomeness. I take nothing away from its 1991 blockbuster sequel, but there is just something so riveting about the lean and smart storytelling in this film that sets it apart for me. It’s that guerilla filmmaker mentality of better creative through adversity and budgetary restraints that sparks my love for The Terminator. Cameron showed the talent he had despite the restrictions of the production, and made a big impact when this hit theatres. Everyone who worked on the film believed strongly in it and Cameron’s ability to make it happen. It’s that ambition and hard working dedication which can set the exceptional filmmakers apart from all the others. This is a film that should be on every action and science fiction film fan’s must-see list. And while it’s not my favorite Schwarzenegger movie, it is one of his best.
After the horrendous Freddy’s Dead, New Line Cinema was willing to entertain ideas from series creator Wes Craven on a new entry to the A Nightmare on Elm Street franchise. This film is partly a return to form for the series, but also ventures into a completely and radically new direction. The entire film is set outside the realm of the franchise in our reality. Many of the main characters and cameos are people playing themselves, to a degree. Heather Langenkamp, the heroine from the first and third films in the series, plays herself. We also have appearances by Wes Craven, John Saxon, and Robert Shaye – all playing themselves with some creative licenses. Robert Englund is of course here, playing both a more eccentric version of himself and the demonic incarnation of Freddy Krueger.
Heather Langenkamp lives a content life with her husband Chase Porter (David Newsom) and son Dylan (Miko Hughes). However, her sense of safety is compromised by a series of unsettling phone calls which Heather believes are from an anonymous stalker. Coupled with this is some increasingly strange behavior from Dylan. Heather gains little comfort from her former co-stars Robert Englund or John Saxon about either her paranoia or concern for her son. While she does not allow her son to watch any of the A Nightmare on Elm Street films, with her promoting the ten year anniversary of the original, she cannot escape its looming shadow. She soon finds out that Wes Craven is planning on making the definitive Nightmare movie, and that he has been plagued by nightmares of his own. It has practically become an epidemic as the same disturbing dreams have come to Heather as well as Robert Englund himself. Craven eventually tells Heather that what is haunting them is an ancient demon that has been roaming from story-to-story since the beginning of time, but has come accustomed to Freddy. Now, it wants into our world, and Heather is the perceived gatekeeper betweens the realms of fantasy and reality since she was the first to defeat Freddy. Dylan is a key focal point of this demon’s plan to lure in Heather. As all the elements begin to converge, the world around Heather starts to transform into the twisted existence of this guised Freddy Krueger.
New Nightmare is a creatively successful film that was not a financial success in 1994. I don’t think New Line Cinema knew quite how to market this concept in a way that was concise to an audience. It’s a far more cerebral concept than had been introduced into the series prior, but even then, it still requires a good amount of exposition to get a handle on. It’s very strange that at the time of release I had never even watched any of these films, and hadn’t spawned my horror movie fandom, yet. Still, I was entirely aware of this film while no one else seemed to be. Thankfully, time has given it the respect and admiration it deserved.
Wes Craven absolutely wrote an ambitious and smart screenplay. I think this shows a maturing of his artistic sensibilities. This is very high concept employing ideas that could not be competently handled by just anyone. There have been plenty of poorly conceived and/or executed reality-bending films, but only a special few that have done it with inspiring results. While that’s mostly true of any genre, this is one that doesn’t have as high of an output, and is usually only tried when a filmmaker feels ambitious. Most fail because they don’t have the right intellect behind them to pull it off without becoming pretentious, contrived, or fall into a style over substance trap. The films that do succeed have visionary filmmakers behind them who know how to convey the concept smartly and effectively. In New Nightmare’s case, it connects you directly with the characters, and invests you in their plights while methodically building up its premise with fine dashes of foreboding tension and suspense. It treats its horror and gruesome deaths with real human emotion and grief. These are real people experiencing real terror and pain. Thus, it increases the dread and danger of their situation with a heavy weight that an audience can truly feel.
This film is exceptionally solid while it’s not so much slasher horror as supernatural, psychological horror. Craven relies more on subtle atmosphere and a series of creepy, unexplained events, much like a haunted house story, to scare an audience. There is some gore, but it is only in a few scenes. So, on a slasher film level, New Nightmare does feel very starved for gruesome bloodletting, and that does detract from the film for me. There’s not enough visceral pay-off for the building up of suspense and atmosphere. Heather is truly terrorized by what this demon does to her life, tormenting her at every turn, and claiming the lives of a few people closest to her as well as traumatically manipulating her son. Those elements are executed outstandingly well. You can feel her fear and frayed psychological state increase throughout the movie. Freddy has very restrained screentime, which is a pleasant change from his overexposure in previous sequels. Wes Craven instead uses the screentime to intelligently and clearly setup the reality transcending premise before unveiling the revamped Freddy Krueger.
This ancient demon has decked Freddy out in a generous use of leather, and a frightening new glove of razors. It’s no longer rusted, but very shiny and skeleton like showing off Krueger’s burned hand. The new make-up design is certainly fresh, but still looks like prosthetics instead of an organic piece of burned flesh. It’s certainly better than the very rubbery appearance we got in the last few films, but I’ve still seen better burned flesh effects elsewhere. Generally, the redesign does give the character a darker edge which supports the premise of the film, and that this is not actually Freddy but a demon taking on his appearance and persona.
All the actors are as great as could be imagined. Langenkamp is even more beautiful here than ever before, and her performance is very true to the situation, despite its fantastical nature. I refer mostly in regards to the parent-child relationship, and how she does whatever is necessary to protect her child. Now, while this film blurs the line between reality and fantasy, this applies to the presentation of the people. Much of the stalking elements in the story were taken from the real Heather Langenkamp’s own experiences with a stalker, and so, there’s a personal element to this story for her. Overall, she brings a great weight of maturity and strong emotion to a role that was likely challenging for her to grasp. It was bold and brave of her to put as much of her personal life on screen like this as she did, and if it wasn’t Wes Craven asking her to do so, I don’t think she would have done it. On a related note, Miko Hughes shows a wealth of talent, and is really endearing. Most kids in horror films tend to be annoying or worse, but he managed to be very likable and endearing.
Robert Englund, as always, clocks in with all he has. This time, his Freddy performance is intimidating and fearsome. There’s not a wisecrack to be had, and he still remains engaging as a dark villain. His screentime is quite limited until the final act of the film, but enough is done throughout the picture to increase his menace and power. I know for a fact that Englund did prefer portraying Freddy as darker, but most directors preferred the comical approach. Thankfully, Craven brought the character back to where he works best, and Englund did a great job there.
John Saxon also returns in a supporting role, and I’ve always had a fondness for him. He’s just such a captivating and marvelous actor with a very fatherly or commanding aura about him. He always inspires confidence, and consistently does solid work. I thoroughly enjoy every bit of work I have seen of him. Tracy Middendorf stars as Julie, Dylan’s babysitter, and really comes off as sweet and caring. She’s definitely the ideal babysitter. I could easily go on and on about the cameos and solid acting, but to sum it up, the acting in this movie is wholly satisfying and exceedingly far above slasher genre standards, as is everything with New Nightmare.
This is definitely one of Wes Craven’s best and most modern looking films. Director of Photography Mark Irwin gave the film a lot of visual integrity, firmly grounding it in a dramatic reality. There’s a nice use of blue tones that add to the atmosphere that Craven nicely crafted. This looks like a serious, intelligent film for a more mature audience, contrasting the more juvenile sensibilities of previous Elm Street sequels. Mark Irwin really showed a great ability to artistically shoot a suspenseful film, and it’s great that Wes Craven used him again on Scream. It’s only a shame that most of Irwin’s filmography after this were comedies, many of them rather stupid comedies.
The story behind the inception of New Nightmare is also interesting. The concept was spawned from a meeting between Wes Craven and New Line executive Robert Shaye. He wanted to know, from Wes, what he thought was done wrong with the series, and if the company had offended Wes in anyway. Craven made a number of valid points about Freddy becoming a comical buffoon, and Bob offered Wes the chance to rectify these errors. I’ve always liked that cordial mentality from Mr. Shaye who never cared for burning bridges, only building a better company built on professional integrity and respect. With that, New Nightmare came into being.
Even without comparison to the wreckage that was Freddy’s Dead, this film shines and soars high as one of the best of the series right behind the original film. The only major drawback of the film, I feel, is that this demon-as-Freddy is not dispatched in a very clever way. There’s really no fantastical element to it, as one would expect from such a fantastical concept. It is more of a physical method of defeating him instead of a supernatural, metaphysical, or psychological one. And even though I’ve never taken much note of J. Peter Robinson’s score, it is widely recognized as one of the best horror film scores around. Ultimately, this is still one to highly recommend alongside the 1984 original and A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors. Those are the definitive classics of the franchise, and those reputations are rightly earned.
Something went wrong with Hellraiser III. Clive Barker might be credited as an executive producer, but it essentially means nothing. He proposed a storyline, but then, was relegated to a back seat executive producer’s credit. I can’t perceive any of his influence here, but that’s not what’s really wrong with this sequel. This sequel had workable elements for a thoroughly fascinating story, but what might seem to have some potential eventually degrades into sub-standard horror movie cheesiness. The execution of Hell on Earth diverges far away from the style of the previous two films. Part of the problem is that the franchise was now in the hands of a Hollywood studio who wanted to push a far more commercial appeal. The script needed an overhaul, and the quality of acting is akin to a jokey slasher flick, which is exactly what this film descends into.
Joey Summerskill (Terry Farrell) is a failing television news reporter in search of that story that will break her out of obscurity. While finishing a report on some go-nowhere story at the hospital one night, a young man is carted into the emergency room with chains ripped into his flesh and dangling from his body. Then, before the eyes of many in the emergency operating room, the man’s body is torn apart, and of course, Joey believes this is the caliber of story she’s been seeking. She tracks the young woman, Terri (Paula Marshall), that accompanied the man to the hospital and finds that her boyfriend is night club owner J.P. Munroe (Kevin Bernhardt), who owns a familiar pillar – the pillar of souls which now contains an imprisoned Pinhead who became trapped there after the confrontation with the Channard Cenobite in the previous film. After the spilling of blood on the pillar, Pinhead begins to reawaken, and with more blood, he can be fully regenerated. Meanwhile, Joey comes into possession of the Lament Configuration through Terri., and details of Pinhead’s mortal, human life as British Captain Elliott Spenser are soon revealed. Elliott exists apart from Pinhead now who is a free being, separated from Leviathan and Spenser, and thus, has become a far more lively and sadistic being. There is no more reasoning, no more hesitation, and no more bargains. Elliott believes he can defeat Pinhead, but Joey must bring the two together within Elliott’s realm to do so. Therefore, Joey is sent out on her mission to lure Pinhead into a trap, but Pinhead proves to be a more cunning adversary than she anticipates.
There was a very good Pinhead origin story buried underneath the second rate qualities of this sequel. It follows a logical story progression from the first two films, but the script they put together and the execution thereof just crashed and burned so hard. At the start, it doesn’t seem like a bad movie, but the garbage just continues to accumulate to turn it into a bad, cringable entry in the Hellraiser franchise. Instead of carrying on an ambitious, intelligent, and bold storytelling mentality, the film constantly takes the soft, cheap, or thinly developed route. Worse yet is that so much of the Hellraiser mythology and atmosphere is abandoned here that measuring up to the first two films becomes hopeless. For one, aside from Pinhead, all of the other Cenobites we’ve seen are gone, and new ones are created by Pinhead for his own convenience. That alone contradicts the mythology. Leviathan creates Cenobites, and only those that solve the Lament Configuration have the potential to become one. Pinhead and other Cenobites do not have the power to create other Cenobites at will. Where this new power comes from for Pinhead is a complete mystery, and it only gets worse in the following film. Granted, Pinhead does say that these new minions are a mere shadow of his former troops, but that’s a thin consolation for giving us such jokey trash. Hellraiser III simply bestows a wealth of powers upon Pinhead including gaining psychic abilities as well as creating illusions and dream-like realities without ever explaining how he or even Elliott Spenser obtained such powers. Captain Spenser says he and Pinhead have been unbound from Hell, but since all the power they had was derived from Leviathan, shouldn’t that mean being cutoff from Hell would leave them powerless? That would seem logical.
The characters and acting are a mixed bag. Being a Star Trek: Deep Space Nine fan, I know Terry Farrell is quite a good and capable actress, but her performance as Joey Summerskill is very unimpressive. She’s supposed to be this driven journalist frustrated at her obscure status trying to crack open this riveting case, but what’s on the page doesn’t come out on screen. There’s no intensity or hard hitting motivation in Farrell’s performance. It’s almost all very soft and bland. I was continually struck by how flat her performance was throughout this movie. She makes what was an underdeveloped character on the page, and made it terribly yawn inducing. One would expect something along the lines of a Margot Kidder Lois Lane who is assertive, aggressive, and driven to prove herself. Instead, Farrell seems to put the minimum amount of effort into this role. The dream sequences about Joey’s father are meant to make her a sympathetic character, but they just came off as cheap, forced, and uninspired. They have almost nothing at all to do with the plot except for a very thinly veiled deception near the end. Between the lazy screenwriting and the lackluster acting, this is not a character or performance that could carry this film at all. Ashley Laurence has more depth, life, and emotion in her momentary cameo on a videotape than Terry Farrell shows in the entire movie.
Thankfully, Paula Marshall puts in a much better performance as Terri. Although, some of the stuff they write in to give the character depth is rather ridiculous. It would be one thing if Terri had nothing to aspire to, no ambition or direction in life, but to not have actual dreams when she sleeps would actually result in severe health problems. Maybe I’m taking things a little too seriously here, but it’s clearly something would’ve worked better as a metaphor instead of a literal statement. Regardless of this off-the-mark idea, Marshall really brings some viable depth and vulnerability to the role. She comes off as vastly more dimensional than Joey by way of a more grounded and relatable emotional portrayal. I would’ve preferred her being the central protagonist in the film picking up the reins from Kirsty Cotton. She seems to have more fertile emotional ground to explore than the uneven and uninteresting character of Joey. Being a drifter with no home or family, Terri automatically has a wealth of potential for a screenwriter to delve into, and Paula Marshall clearly had the talent to handle such material. It’s sad that this movie was constantly ignorant towards the potential it had on-hand, and made no effort to utilize that potential to its fullest effect.
Kevin Bernhardt’s J.P. Munroe is the most one dimensional, cheap sleaze as it gets. He’s just a cog in the story, and the script doesn’t do anything with the character. Likewise, Bernhardt doesn’t do anything worth noting with the role. He has no more to him than any low grade slasher flick, and that’s what this seems to span out to in the third act. Bloodbaths, senseless killings, and a high body count – none of which are in the Hellraiser style. The studio took Hellraiser, and turned it into a cheesy slasher franchise, eliminating anything innovative, thematic, or chilling about the mythos. The filmmakers turn Pinhead into the new Freddy Krueger with one-liners, over the top moments, and a group of seriously lame Cenobites. Pinhead loses his coldness and his seemingly heartless passion for hell. Some fans say that the appeal of this film is seeing Pinhead unleashed, but for me, that becomes its least intriguing quality. The character was far more fascinating when there was still a chilling air of mystique to his personality. On the whole here, he has been written as a completely different character that is bad enough on its own, but in the guise of Pinhead, it becomes excessively ridiculous and continually cringable. Pinhead becomes a deceiver, manipulator, and tempter of desires. He comes off more like a standard, melodramatic portrayal of the Devil than a logical progression of Pinhead. You’ve got Doug Bradley just going for broke like it doesn’t matter. He does a good job early on, but once the film does begin to “unleash” the character, his performance just becomes terribly uninteresting. Pinhead becomes another schlocky, cackling, dumb villain who’s there just to chew up scenery. Conversely, Bradley does a fine job as Elliott Spenser giving him both a strong sense of will and determination with a subtle humanity. It’s a decent performance, but it’s only too bad that it wasn’t in a better quality film to allow the Spenser character to be more fleshed out with a stronger dynamic with Pinhead.
Further contradictions to the established Hellraiser universe come with all the religious references and quips. Beyond just the betrayal of tone, one would swear that screenwriter Peter Atkins didn’t understand the franchise he was writing for, but he also co-wrote the incredible Hellbound: Hellraiser II. So, it entirely baffles me how he wrote this weak, uninspired script. What Hell really is in this fictional universe has no connection to religious interpretations or beliefs. It’s not a place for sinners or where your soul goes after death. It’s another dimension accessed by the solving of the Lament Configuration in conjunction with one’s desires to be subjected to the indivisible experiences of pain and pleasure that Leviathan offers. Atkins shows no respect to the established mythology or tone of these films. The scene of Pinhead in the church is one of the absolute worst scenes of the entire franchise because it exemplifies every downright horrible aspect of this movie. It is gratuitous in the extreme, and puts Pinhead in a setting he has no necessity to ever be in. The film is simply going as over-the-top at this point as possible not caring about story or character relevance, and just indulging in whatever the filmmakers want to do on a whim.
Thematically or visually, Hellraiser III isn’t really dark at all, let alone macabre, and repeatedly delves into a completely out-of-place self-parodying style. It conforms to the trends of the time, and thus, loses a lot of credibility for the future of the franchise. The cinematography is generally gimmicky and frenetic at times relying on a cheap early 90s MTV style. It’s definitely something that would be more enjoyable in a B-grade action movie than a horror film. Lighting schemes that might have potential just come off as ineffective due to a lack of vision and talent to create proper atmosphere. Unlike the previous two Hellraiser movies, there is no thematic material here, and instead, the movie simply gratifies itself with cheap gore and sexual content with no substance to justify any of it. An unrated cut was released on VHS and Laserdisc including extra gore and some other minor additions, but apparently, this version has not been released on DVD in North America. The film, as it is, is obviously cut down for gore as there are numerous quick, bad cutaways from the bloodier moments creating a quite tame and unsatisfying experience. However, an unrated cut is nothing that could salvage this film as a whole. A lack of substantive gore is the very least of this film’s problems.
Director Anthony Hickox demonstrates no better handle on horror than he ever has before. It’s a cheesy, jokey film with a light, commercial tone that is more interested in silly, cheap entertainment than offering up a chilling, intelligent vision of horror. The entire third act of the movie is just wretched for a Hellraiser movie. It couldn’t be any more of a betrayal and insult to what the series had stood for up to this point. It’s horrendously schlocky, terribly cheap, and stupidly over-the-top. It demonstrates no respect for the franchise by having Pinhead cackling like a brainless third rate villain, and throwing loads of gratuitous violence and action set pieces which have no relevance to horror. This is where those aforementioned poor excuses for Cenobites are revealed, and they are even given bad dialogue with cringable one-liners. This is not a Hellraiser movie, but it is quite expected for an Anthony Hickox movie. Warlock: The Armageddon had many of these cheesy qualities which indulged in underwhelming characters, some bad acting, and a severe lack of horror related content. Where that film is essentially disposable and dismissible, Hellraiser III ultimately develops into a giant slap in the face of the franchise. It’s hard to believe that Clive Barker would still want his name associated with this movie because he surely didn’t want it with Hellraiser: Bloodline. This is a mid-to-late 80s slasher film made in the early 90s when horror was on a very steep decline in quality and popularity. Between terrible handling by Dimension Films, and helmed by a cheap director, Hellraiser III easily falls short of all its potential.
The vast majority of these passionate gripes are focused on the final half hour of the movie. This is when Pinhead is released from the pillar of souls, and becomes this over-the-top, uninteresting villain. Before that, there are some good qualities in the film such as Paula Marshall’s performance, and the more subtle moments with Doug Bradley as Captain Spenser and Pinhead. Despite having a new composer, it retains Christopher Young’s iconic themes, and they are used throughout the film. However, Hellraiser III: Hell on Earth is barely passable as a horror film. Atmosphere, suspense, or proper tone have nothing to do with this film, and the majority of the acting is simply devoid of passion or is embarrassingly over-the-top. There are a lot of duds in this franchise, and it’s hard to say exactly which is the worst. This is more like another bad, cheesy A Nightmare On Elm Street sequel instead of a chilling and intelligent Hellraiser sequel. Barker’s involvement seems non-existent here as Pinhead is forced into too much of a foreground, dominant character instead of the ominous, looming figure in the background where he seems to work best. His limited screen time in the first two movies made his presence and character seem more powerful. He does tend to do more in a limited time capacity than he achieves in a lengthy role here. Basically, this is sad excuse for a sequel to the brilliant and macabre masterpieces of Hellraiser and Hellbound: Hellraiser II. Maybe if this was not a Hellraiser movie, something entirely separate and unrelated, one might be able to view it in a better light and actually gain some cheesy entertainment value out of it. However, as a part of this franchise, it’s just downright embarrassing The only consolation you have at the end of this movie is that the excellent track “Hellraiser” by Motörhead from their March Or Die album blares over the end credits. The music video, directed by Clive Barker, actually features Lemmy Kilmister squaring off with Pinhead in a game of cards. The song, lyrically, has nothing to do with the Hellraiser films, but this film at least gave us something worthwhile in that very cool music video. It’s just about the only worthwhile thing it produced.
While I have only ever seen two films directed by macabre horror writer Clive Barker, he is actually one of my favorite filmmakers. Hellraiser was the first reason, but this film, Lord of Illusions, is the biggest reason. Released in 1995 in the midst of a bad stretch of time for the horror genre, Clive Barker was ambitious in telling a film noir detective horror story. Theatrically, the film was not well represented with a lot of pertinent, quality scenes cutout for a tighter runtime, and box office was not very lucrative. I cannot find a record for the film’s budget, but I’m sure it exceeded the box office gross of $13 million. Thankfully, the home video market allowed Barker the opportunity to release his definitive director’s cut of this excellent film, and I can’t imagine anyone watching this film in any other way.
New York private detective Harry D’Amour (Scott Bakula) finds himself repeatedly drawn into disturbing supernatural events, much to his strong reluctance. He takes an insurance fraud case in Los Angeles as a change of pace, but soon, he finds himself in the world between illusion and true magic. The world’s greatest illusionist Philip Swann (Kevin J. O’Connor) is killed in a graphic on-stage accident, and Harry is driven to discover the truth behind it. Hired by Swann’s gorgeous wife Dorothea (Famke Janssen), Harry delves deep into the secretive world of magic, and encounters dangerous foes including the peculiar, yet lethal Butterfield (Barry Del Sherman). What Harry uncovers is that a cult leader named Nix (Daniel von Bargen), who could perform real magic and taught Swann to do so as well, is feared to be able to defy the grave that Swann and Dorothea put him in, and will return to exact horrific revenge upon the world. What Harry D’Amour may come to realize is that death is the ultimate illusion.
The film sets a very dangerous, foreboding tone right from the outset. A series of grim images of a decrepit, desolate wasteland open the picture telling you that dark, evil forces await us. This opening sequence shows Swann and his friends confronting Nix and his followers in the Mojave Desert thirteen years prior, and sets the stage for where Harry D’Amour will enter their unsettling lives in the present day. It clues you in on exactly what horrors Nix was capable of, and why Swann and his estranged friends now fear his return so gravely. The production design of Nix’s stronghold is perfectly macabre and disturbing. It has that dead-on Clive Barker dark, gritty style with a sort of grotesque beauty. It is photographed with a generous amount of shadow using the light to accentuate only certain sections of the environment. This style carries over into all the visually darker scenes creating a gorgeous film noir style. This is just a beautifully shot movie in any condition of light or shadow. While cinematographer Ronn Schmidt doesn’t have much in the way of high profile films to his résumé, I can surely tell he had a major wealth of artistic potential when coupled with the right director.
Clive Barker magnificently proves his talent and worth as a filmmaker here. I think Lord of Illusions really is a masterpiece of supernatural noir horror. It’s a greatly intelligent film that blends two very comparable genres together in a beautiful way. The film sets up the horror elements first with that amazingly chilling opening sequence, but doesn’t really explain anything to the audience. So, as Harry D’Amour is pulled into this plot, we still have questions that need answering, and it is a dangerous path for Harry to walk to reach those answers. There are plenty of secrets that many would kill to have or to keep hidden, but Harry is an intelligent enough hero to see through the spook tactics and walls of deception to get to that truth. The moments of horror are powerful such as the flashes Harry has of the exorcism he was involved in. The sight of the stark white demon is nightmarishly striking. Dorothea also has visions of blood and death which tell her that Nix’s return is soon to come. Butterfield’s strange lackey Miller also provides much in the way of savage gore and violence. How he survives a third story fall to the pavement enhances the bizarre nature of the film’s foes. Clive Barker knew how to use film as a canvas for brilliant brush strokes. Melding so many different complex aspects of this story would not be easy to do, but he had a clear and vibrant vision which he was able to realize. Not to mention, he brought us one of his absolute best creations ever.
I really love the Harry D’Amour character as portrayed by Scott Bakula. He is endlessly fascinating to me. A hardened private investigator who gets caught up in all manner of supernatural danger is so ripe with potential. The fact that he is reluctant to be wrapped up in this world, but is inevitably drawn to it makes for a great character dynamic. He’s a man that has subscribed to many faiths in his day, possibly to attempt to find answers or solace for the evil he has faced. It shows he’s a man of a wide open mind, but not without his skepticism. True to being a detective, he accepts nothing purely on face value alone. He has a probing mind with a keen intellect that makes him an interesting hero to follow. He’s intent on unraveling a mystery in a world built upon secrets. Scott Bakula gives a warm, soulful quality to D’Amour that comes to life opposite Dorothea. He also shows Harry to be a capable and confident man of action making him a very well-rounded character. He’s smart and perceptive as well as having a good heart that contrasts the darkness he’s engulfed in. Bakula did research the role, and helped add in more traits of what Barker had previously written for the character. The tattoo on Harry’s back resulted from that research and collaboration. Scott Bakula does an excellent job with this role that I wish fortunes could’ve allowed us to be exposed to beyond this film, but nothing is ever truly impossible. One can still hope for another prime opportunity to arise for Bakula and Barker to reunite.
When Clive Barker saw the headshot of Famke Janssen during casting, he knew he had found Dorothea. Her air of class and elegance truly shines through in this role. When Harry first sees her its in the golden late afternoon sunlight, and she couldn’t be more captivatingly beautiful. She easily captures Harry’s heart, and that leads the two down a very passionate path. Bakula and Janssen have a seductive chemistry that is captured magnificently by the camera. Their love scene is gorgeous. I like the fact that Lord of Illusions came just before Famke became a villainous Bond girl in GoldenEye. Thus, it gives Barker some special credit for recognizing her talent and beauty before her breakout role. As Dorothea, she is both vulnerable and strong creating a fine mix to make her a damsel in distress, but not one that’s afraid to fight for herself when the opportunity arises.
I have to admit that I love the character of Butterfield. He’s perfectly androgynous with a slinking quality that makes him very serpent like. Barry Del Sherman uses his body language fluidly as he slipped into the skin of this peculiar villain. It’s wonderfully written as a dangerous, off-beat character that one might not take seriously at first glance. However, Butterfield quickly demonstrates a lethal, sadistic quality that he uses in calculated fashion. He truly takes deep pleasure in the torturous methods he uses, and Del Sherman absorbs himself fully into that mindset. He portrays a wonderfully charismatic and juicy villain. It’s also an interesting dynamic that Butterfield aspires to be Nix’s one and only apprentice, but even Nix acknowledges that there is no one else worthy but Swann. While Swann gets to bask in the limelight of fame, Butterfield slinks his way through the dark underbelly of the world to prepare for Nix’s return, and he gets no respect for his loyalty or hard work from Nix.
Daniel von Bargen is a hell of a diverse actor that I have gained immense respect for over the years. He can do drop down hilarious comedy, but also, put in a frighteningly charismatic performance as Nix. What he does in the first few minutes of the film resonate throughout the rest of the picture. His horrific power haunts Swann, and that fear translates over to the audience very sharply. He is an awesome villain full of commanding presence and intense malevolence. The power von Bargen throws into this role is masterful creating something that could truly haunt your nightmares in terrifying fashion. He clearly had a fun time portraying this intense, chilling character.
Another amazingly diverse actor is Kevin J. O’Connor. You may know him from his turn as the cowardly Beni from Stephen Sommers’ The Mummy, or from the Patrick Swayze television drama The Beast. As Philip Swann, he gives us a very unique performance. I like how the film opens without presenting a clear hero to you. Swann is not a confident or particularly stable person, and not the type to gravitate to as a protagonist. He is very shaken by fear, and later on in life, he’s not a content man. He has fame, wealth, and a beautiful woman at his side. However, it’s the creeping knowledge of what Nix vowed he would do, defy death, that endlessly troubles him. If he can do that, Swann cannot imagine what greater terrors he could unleash. Even with all the power Swann possesses, he knows that Nix is more powerful, but most importantly, he has the will to do things Swann never would. Nix messed with his mind once, and he’s never been able to shake that. O’Connor passionately displays the depth of those turbulent emotional and psychological elements so well. He makes Philip Swann a greatly fascinating and fractured character that maintains the foreboding tone of the film.
The supporting cast really put their all into their roles. They add to the eclectic flavor of these textured and distinct characters. Joel Swetow makes Valentin a very sophisticated but shady character. He furthers adds to the mysterious and treacherous aspects of the plot. All of the characters appearing in the Magic Castle sequence, portraying illusionists of all sorts, also really boost those spooky and colorful qualities of the film. It’s just a damn solid cast that Barker put together. There’s not a single weak link anywhere at all.
Clive Barker turned to the absolute masters of special make-up effects in KNB EFX Group for this film. Their work has been unparalleled. Whatever they do, big or small, severe or subtle, it always hold weight on film. What they did here is bring the gory and challenging imagination of Clive Barker to perfect life. The make-up on the resurrected Nix is purely, excellently disgusting, as it should be. The protrusion in his forehead is something I still cannot stomach to look at. Conversely, the digital visual effects are damn well up to standards. The early scene of Nix juggling fire is seamless and convincing, and the effect of Swann levitating a car over Harry’s head is quite well handled. Of course, I’m sure many would contend with the later scene of the apparition that attacks Harry and Dorothea late in the film, but Barker wanted it to look as it did. He did not want those effects to be dead-on realistic. He wanted a dream-like, unreal quality to them, and to a point I believe it worked. I’m sure something a little more refined could’ve benefitted the sequence better, but I generally have no criticism about it.
The film has a very strong, haunting score by Simon Boswell. It’s an excellent piece of work that regularly keeps the tension and ominous qualities present, but it also has its moments of beauty as with the Harry and Dorothea love scene. A sensual saxophone chimes in to delve into that seductive passion. The music during Swann’s stage show is marvelously theatrical. In its most climactic moments, the score is powerful and darkly operatic. Overall, it’s an immensely effective composition for a film with such diverse qualities.
Lord of Illusions has its generous share of heightened tension and frightening danger. The opening and ending sequences with Nix bring the full boar horror in all its macabre glory. In the bulk of the film, though, we have action based excitement with D’Amour, and some gory visuals that re-instill the haunting, chilling aspects of the story. This is not a splatter film with some brutal threat stalking the characters. It’s very supernatural with a more ominous threat stirring up their deepest fears. The atmosphere is very strong regularly keeping an audience on edge, and keeping them enthralled as each new layer of the mystery is pulled back. With lives being lost as he gets deeper into this and becomes more invested in Dorothea, Harry can’t just walk away. It’s a great way to wrap the hero up in the story, and drive him forward in the face of ungodly horror. Harry never gives into fear, and remains determined in even the darkest moments of the film.
The final act is powerful and amazing. It serves as the proper climax to this story which pits apprentice against master in a chilling and grotesque confrontation that still manages to keep D’Amour relevant to the outcome. It bookends the film smartly bringing Nix back in a far more chilling state than before. The disturbing cultist aspects of the movie really are driven home by this point, and have an ironic, vile pay-off here. It further sells the grave lethality and power of Nix. This entire prolonged sequence is like a slow decent into the horrific depths of hell, and there is no one better suited for the task of realizing that than Clive Barker. This ending will leave you still unsettled as the end credits roll.
If there’s one horror film that has inspired me as a screenwriter more than any other, it would be Lord of Illusions. This would be the genre I would want to play around in because Clive Barker realized it so well here. There’s a vast untapped potential for this supernatural noir genre, and this film is a prime example of that potential. Barker wrote a brilliant screenplay based on his short story The Last Illusion, and turned it into one of the best, most original and intelligent horror films I have ever seen. Thus, it is one of my favorite films of all time. This film far exceeds expectations realizing every element and aspect with amazing, top notch quality. It is only a shame that the studio difficulties Barker faced with this film caused him to turn away from ever directing another film again. Fortunately, it has not ceased him being a producer on a number of film adaptations of his written work. I think Clive Barker is one of the best masters of horror because has never let me down. If this turns out to be the final film he ever directs, no one could ask for a better final bow than Lord of Illusions.