Shoot Me Like You Mean It
Prelim. Notes on Michael Mann
The first time I was confronted by subtext (though far from knowing what to call it) was during a late night viewing of Siskel & Ebert (yeah), discussing the 1983 “film” Breathless. Ebert mentoned that the admiration of The Silver Surfer had a lot to do with the main character’s driven yet unfocused motivation. That, if anyone is reading this, is why I subject everyone who visits me to a viewing of the trailer. The trailer is all you need, I say, to understand the overly stylized version of the story.
I don’t know why I like the way the 1983 film re-works the classic story by Godard. I only know that I also like Pound, Joyce, Dante, Homer, high-minded dropped references that Faulkner and Fitzgerald drop, and most things that are inscrutable, ancient, and opaque to first viewing. But getting to like such things most often takes time, sweat, and, in terms of film, repeated viewings.
Having said that, is it odd to say that I can’t wait to see Miami Vice?
Absolutely not. Because an attraction and addiction to epiphany is what I know will be fed by a Michael Mann film.
I was thinking about what I would put on the DVD player while typing this, and I quickly ran through all the moments that shine in each of his films. In summary, I can say that there is always such a moment when I will find myself perfectly frozen, -often agape,- at some scene or sequence.
And like the best hang-on-the-wall art, it never improves. I’m “into” film as we say. And I know a lot more than I should, perhaps, each time I sit down to watch a movie. But the moments I am thinking of, and the new ones I look forward to,- are never diminished by understanding how they are done.
For example, we can marvel at the deep focus or moving camera in Citizen Kane, or revel in knowing how Ford used color filters to get the clouds to stand out in B/W westerns.
But if you show me James Belushi driving a Firebird though a parking garage (Thief), or have the camera suddenly mimic a bystander’s gaze in a Harlem club (Ali), or slow the action in an action film down to a crawl and actually have the characters exhibit self-consciousness (the Dennis Haysbert subplot in Heat)…These moments are lulls in traditional storylines. Yet they get me everytime.
As a writer, I know these visuals sit humbly on the page. And this is what makes me anxious about not sitting in the director’s seat. But that’s for another, later discussion. Back to the films…
I think my favorite is Thief
And let me stress: This is an ACTION MOVIE. These people (especially Caan) are good at blowing shit up. Yet these characters are driven from within. The best example, of course, is the operatic Heat. I think it truly is an opera, because when I think of what opera is I remember the scene in Amadeus, when Mozart explain that in opera you can have twenty people singing at once. That’s Heat. In LA. And with guns and a muted grey/black palette.
Mann has a knack for presenting simple characters that yet have deep complexity. And how does he do it? How does he show the depth with so little in action and dialogue? There’s a whole tone at work in these films that owes a lot to documentary style, which Mann was heavily involved in. The characters in Heat, Thief, Last of the Mohicans, Manhunter,– they don’t talk much, NOT because they are naturally quiet, but because they know themselves. They don’t need to verbalize everything. Plus, they have someone like Mann with a camera to SHOW everything else.
Miami Vice is a special case for me, since I never watched the show. Perhaps that will work in my favor. I only know the jokes. Looking back over the other stories, I think I can safely walk into my first theater viewing of a Mann film, knowing exactly what I’m going to see. And still loving every minute of it.
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