even though my girlfriend thinks it's a dumb idea, i bought the 1995 movie HEAT on iTunes and will be livetweeting it minute by minute, one minute per day. the film is 170 minutes long
HEAT, min. 001: the Regency logo is nouveau riche excellence, nicely contraposed by the squarish, label-maker credits. we see a train in Los Angeles, and it suspends our disbelief. man's duality at play
HEAT, min 002: "Dennis Haysbert" will be just as he sounds. "Ashley Judd" too. but here's what you showed up for: De Niro deboards the implausible train, the man is 30% goatee. checking he hasn't been tailed, he rides an escalator down to a more mysterious name:

Hank Azaria
HEAT, min 003: ah, John Voight. saw him at the Grove around last Christmas... excitedly pointing at random inflatables. speaking of Christ, here's a pietà. this must take place in the Bible Cinematic Universe. my, that's a busy hospital. De Niro glides through it like a cool eel—
HEAT, min 004: stealing an ambulance? sir, you are morally flexible, yet i must admit to a frisson of intrigue. barely is there time to recover: Val Kilmer's ponytail, reporting for duty. he dares the toilet lawyer from Jurassic Park to question his fake ID. Arizona always lies
HEAT, min 005: an "explosives" warning on Val's purchase is, indeed, all the warning you get before it's Makeout City. population: Al Pacino in *two* gold chains (origin of the rapper's name?) and Diane Venora. she climbs on top, for feminism. Pacino doesn't let her. canceled
HEAT, min 006: boom, Pacino's post-sex shower. chains stay on of FUCKING course, as well as, wow, a goth silver bracelet. Natalie Portman (child) arrives in the bedroom for a scene that mainly serves to reveal this house is way too nice—a motif. yeah some family stuff idk
HEAT, min 007: the house is too much glass. Venora: pills. Natalie: anxiety. it's a combo that cannot jibe, y'know? mom's deeper into a newspaper than anyone ever has been; we love an informed, half-absent MILF. talk of a non-Pacino dad. oh, could it be this longhaired scum?
HEAT, min 008: Waingro (using character name bc it's the only good one) exits the restroom of a Mexican restaurant as if he slept there. i choose to believe. rude to staff: a villain! Tom Sizemore picks him up with "ugh, new dude sucks" vibes. we sure all hate him, don't we folks
HEAT, min 009: death stares all around. De Niro, Danny Trejo and Sizemore link up on walkie-talkies: the original dudes groupchat. Kilmer turns off 102.7 KIIS FM because poptimism doesn't exist yet. before you can ask why nobody's eating a donut, it's Friday the 13th Part III
HEAT, min 010: revving of engines, juddered frame—vehicles too young to be cast in Mad Max, so they make up for it now. in an armored truck: the atmosphere forbiddingly still, like they're waiting out a nasty fart. BLAM, Sizemore's rig topples it into...oh god, is that my Jetta?!
HEAT, min 011: tools, guns, shouting. these are -dudes-, you understand? when they blow the truck doors off with Val's explosives, i hear Michael Caine: "see, how bloody hard was that." this robbery is a brisk one, the fine and Cheeveresque autumn day of armed holdups. yes!!
HEAT, min 012: a sure, rapid shuffling of envelopes. i wouldn't be able to find a copy of my last tax return. time expands as it runs out. LA's white-gold breezy dawn. Waingro must fuck it up. the right envelope is secure, but fuckin new guy does a murder bc he didn't have coffee
HEAT, min 013: mass execution to cover the gaffe. jeez. if only professional heist guys had some equivalent of telling the teacher one dude dragged the group project down. how to enjoy the getaway after that? De Niro boosted an ambulance for this shit and he's not even having fun
HEAT, min 014: eh, shit happens. c'est la vie des dudes. you blow up the ambulance and move on as best you can. cut to a garage, section A9, don't forget where we parked! Jon Voight's hair prevents us from processing anything he says, and that, folks, is how you handle exposition
HEAT, min 015: Voight: the world's laziest fence. sell the bonds back to the sharks you robbed? do you realize what movie you're in?? but De Niro signs off, he's tired of life and this sketchy geezer. as night deepens, Pacino arrives on the crime scene. he is 8 hours late to work
HEAT, min 016: the primary battle of the film is not between cop and criminal, but two actors in suits, each trying to appear more distantly hyper-competent. Pacino looks around as if not sure what city he's in, though he quickly gets the gist by pointing and grunting for details
HEAT, min 017: [to the tune of 'Love Shack'] cop talk, baby, cop talk. when i look at the aftermath of a bloody triple homicide, all i see are forensics, bitch. i'm saying shit like "good escape routes, two freeways" for some LA cred. traffic can be murder out here.... . haha
HEAT, min 018: Pacino, describing how the situation "esquillated": they iced a couple guys, then another guy. fuck, he's good. this is the level of insight you attain with regular boning in the A.M.—he's got the scent—his eyebrows flex—yes, there *must* be a Taco Bell around here
HEAT, min 019: best part of a heist gone wrong? hearty meal with your boys afterward. Waingro consumes diner pie next to a tiny American flag, in a subtle yet devastating critique of the Gulf War. Val, stoned as we all hope to be. a slow, awkward seating shift, almost homophobic,
HEAT, min 020: two scenes of exquisite violence committed against Waingro, with brief intermission. Act I: De Niro slams his head on the table, per Italian custom, then promises a one-time stimulus of $1200. Act II: Waingro further assaulted outside, wow, what about the money tho
HEAT, min 021: but Waingro's not about that garbage bag casket in Trejo's trunk. when patrol cars distract the crew, he vanishes: they don't call him "Slick" for nothing! a confused De Niro & co. search the parking lot as effectively as one would a tiny apartment for a hidden cat
HEAT, min 022: brief commercial for the color blue. De Niro home to his empty glass Malibu mansion, with an attitude like, "yeah, i fucking love ennui." at their house, Val and Ashley Judd get horny for money, but he's already gambled some. (Uncut Gems is adapted from this scene)
HEAT, min 023: all happy families are alike. all bad cinema marriages are this thing between Val and Judd. she has... an accént? and the notion of practicality. he shatters the cheap decor as soon as she lets an opinion fly. at least there's a good CD collection, hundreds of CDs,
HEAT, min 024: here's an ambitious crossover shot: Val peels out in the Batmobile, for '90s kids in the audience. Pacino, also driving, calls his colleagues to see if they've done the work he won't. this all happens near the edge of dawn; at home, his wife is dressed for dinner
HEAT, min 025: Pacino, 4 hours late to dinner (they usually eat at 1am), pours a drink and moans to Venora about "three dead bodies on a sidewalk." FACT CHECK: the bodies were in a parking lot. owning his culinary ignorance—quite alpha—he apologizes if the chicken is "overcooked"
HEAT, min 026: we've no time to discuss how Pacino placed a leftover drumstick right on the dining table. De Niro browses an all-night bookstore for crime manuals, which is his flirting move. it works: a brunette stalks him into a diner. there they sit, those hungry heterosexuals
HEAT, min 027: i don't like strangers who ask what i'm reading either, but the incel energy with which De Niro replies "a book about metals" should be studied for a cure. his rudeness is so like an impression of De Niro that we wonder if the real De Niro exists in this timeline
HEAT, min 028: at last, credulity stretched too far. De Niro says he's "Neil"? as in Armstrong?? and is Amy Brenneman southern, too??? the pace of these wacky revelations covers the Tindery small talk. props to De Niro for asking questions: it's thoughtful even if part of his con
HEAT, min 029: we turn against Brenneman the instant she says she dislikes LA. just two minutes' screentime of goodwill. and then! her house! the view! listen, LA whips, it's "Neil" who sucks. his questions have an "alumni interview for Georgetown" vibe. cue the sexy synthesizers
HEAT, min 030: night drags on. they sip cocktails and mull the challenge of topping Pacino's sex scene. i can't jump off the balcony, so i zone out looking for my apartment in the lights below, which De Niro likens to "iridescent algae." Neil deGrasse Tyson jerks off to this part
HEAT, min 031: come on, Brenneman, close the deal..YES gottem with the lonely talk. he tried to hard-boil his way out of it, but no dice. during the long, long, possibly illegal kiss that follows, we relish the sound design that keeps the rattle of drink ice in the mix. L'ROMANCE
HEAT, min 032: quiet smash, aftermath. De Niro, still up after doing crime and fucking for 36 hours straight, leaves the rumpled, cloudlike bed. his gift of a napkin-wrapped glass of water is too touching to make any sense

daylight: Pacino rolls up to audition for True Detective
HEAT, min 033: the spinning camera and doors flung wide as Pacino storms into an east-side dogfighting kennel/chop shop (it's now a beer garden, same decor) are what it is to be a lawman cresting on his third bilge-water coffee. a half hour in, and he hasn't yelled yet: he boils.
HEAT, min 034: watching Pacino slap a man's hangover enchiladas off a card table is agony, yet it gives him room to flamingo-dance, as nature intended. his first "motherfuckin" is cringe, only to let him cross you over on a double "GIMMEALLYAGOT." folks, let the Acting™®© begin
HEAT, min 035: already overheated, Pacino sings a menacing song. (n.b. this is known as "yes, and"-ing yourself.) our stoolie requests a 2am meet at the club, which gives the cops just 19 hours to figure what to wear, and fight some more with their wives. no time for racism today
HEAT, min 036: i'm surely high, but this angle of Tom Noonan's hacker lair is odd. swear he's living on a landfill of PC monitors that forced their way up through the plumbing, flooded his house and left him stuck out on the porch. anyway, this guy knows how to steal $12 million,
HEAT, min 037: wow, Voight's easily 4x as sketchy in sunlight. now we know he's not a vampire. also seems like he's faking this phone call to look important, except for the suit on the other end, whose henchman is [interminable drum solo] Henry Rollins, aka The People's Brow—
HEAT, min 038: Noonan explains <the internet> to De Niro in 9 seconds, omitting all mention of "posting." ultimately, our master thief is more impressed with a pocket protector. he and Voight catch up in the driveway, too jaded to cast a glance toward this majestic view of the 10
HEAT, min 039: Val's had bad luck. as his wife converts their child to Californiaism with an avocado, he's crashed on the floor of De Niro's melancholy mansion, which lacks even a bed. yet in the kitchen, man has a roll of Reynolds Wrap. don't tell me he cooks AND saves leftovers
HEAT, min 040: listen, Dude-to-Dude Therapy is my favorite form of emotional abstinence, because all you do is ask 1) who the other guy fucks and 2) how often. i'd watch an hour of such analysis, and i bet Michael Mann would give it to us if WAIT DE NIRO SAID THE TITLE! ::HEAT!::
HEAT, min 041: Val simping hard. De Niro can't relate... or can he. to cover up for shit-talking love, he pivots to shop talk (hate when the boss corners me in a hangover) and offers breakfast. again, don't believe he cooks—why else the cut to Dennis Haysbert making out in a car?
HEAT, min 042: not gonna lie, hard minute to watch. Haysbert, the one likable guy so far, listens to the guy with the worst hair so far explain how much his parole job in a diner will suck. metaphor: in background, there's a Cholula bottle, but we aren't allowed to see the label.
HEAT, min 043: how fondly i recall this Ray-Ban ad: with dark shades on, De Niro picks up a payphone—too classic! what romance!—to set the sale of bonds tainted by a few little homicides—this dashing figure! Malibu Equity moneybro is busy with other tax fraud, but he makes time..
HEAT, min 044: for a while, the world stops. coincidence takes over. the odds that De Niro, after hanging up, would turn around to see Judd kissing a flop motel goodbye to Hank Azaria: well, they aren't good odds at all. no matter. it happens. De Niro stays calm by yelling at her
HEAT, min 045: De Niro tells Judd to "clean up" and go home, calling his eyesight into question: for all we know, Azaria just did her hair and makeup. Pacino, having circled from the valley to Redondo Beach doing key bumps all day, rolls up into Koreatown, horny, prankish, manful
HEAT, min 046: should be said that Pacino's flowing butt-cut is a worthwhile outlier for the hairdo, never to be repeated. its alignment shifts and sways as he enters an exclusive basement club, intently seeking a drug dealer, but not for drugs, of course, he has plenty of drugs–
HEAT, min 047: easter egg you may have missed: Pacino says "I'm Donald Duck" after he bites into a stick of gum, alluding to the fact that ducks don't chew. so far his whole investigation style has been to physically intimidate black men. starting to worry LAPD isn't super "woke"
HEAT, min 048: Pacino just oozes fuckboi disinterest. dude's not even starstruck by Tone Loc? men only want one thing and it's disgusting: leads on a criminal with the alias "Slick." don't think he heard back from the FBI, either. now *you* know what it's like to be ghosted! dick
HEAT, min 049: w/ Sizemore conveniently in crosshairs, Pacino retires to club's private office with some whiskey. after a big night of accidental progress, it's time to dump the rest of the bitch-work on colleagues again. he's too busy overseeing this place, which i guess he owns
HEAT, min 050: gotta say, this is a movie's movie. the kinda movie with an aerial shot of a drive-in movie theater, abandoned, empty and therefore ripe for a shady deal. the movie as memorial of the medium's obsolescences. sorry nothing else happens here it's just someone parking
HEAT, min 051: wealthy people are fucking cheap. while Sniper Val saves De Niro's hide, the Malibu Equity hitmen are sloppy—they take the L harder than suburban crossfit warriors trying to conquer Venezuela. it's like they didn't even see the establishing cinematography. a shame.
HEAT, min 052: lol, they kill both those guys like five times each. not gonna lie it's disrespectful. though, again, if you're out in the open with De Niro barreling at you in a station wagon and firing through the windshield, you kinda have yourself to blame. RIP Silvercorp boys
HEAT, min 053: everyone hypes this phone call, but let's admit: "I'm talking to an empty telephone" is just a few notches above "I eat pieces of shit like you for breakfast." no wonder Moneybro needs the threat clarified, while Rollins looms like a Minecraft avatar in the doorway
HEAT, min 054: i'll buy the criminals having a dinner out with their families if you tell me who gets the check. De Niro's solo, probably just a salad. Sizemore invested in a blood diamond. Val bet against the Bulls on the way here. guys, Trejo can't pick up the tab every time...
HEAT, min 055: gotta be a term for what De Niro does to Brenneman here. un-ghosting? resurrecting? whatever, the salad made him horny again. god, to live in a time when you made your booty call from a restaurant's landline. as they leave, Pacino's crew surveils nearby, boners out
HEAT, min 056: in all pop culture, there's no default worse than Police Competence. only by sharing his cocaine has Pacino invested his boys in the case—now he's basically bored himself. great, another master criminal with bad facial hair, stealing metals. worthy of two VHS tapes
HEAT, min 057: an offscreen man called "fly" and "cool" is shown to be strung-out Waingro baring his Nazi belly tattoo, in a cut so upsetting you have to laugh. it might be, 1/3rd of the way into this, the single laugh so far. but our Twin Peaks soundtrack is cause for concern...
HEAT, min 058: they borrowed Waingro from Mindhunter, without background. in case you didn't care when he got those security guys killed (trust me, i feel you), he murders a black sex worker and hits a greasy bar that functions as LinkedIn for SoCal criminals. you know the place
HEAT, min 059: sorry to your symmetric plot, but i never wanna see cops and their partners having this fun of a time. besides, how many nightclubs can Pacino feasibly own? Venora likes him again because he got, um, even hornier. what a relief, his beeper goes off before his balls
HEAT, min 060: folks, we're an hour in, and this is one of the best images you could put on a movie screen. just people living in the moment, a single early flip phone in sight. only club-owning robbery-homicide detectives will remember. take me back, the ecstasy was so good then
HEAT, min 061: lord, not an emotionally wrenching scene where Pacino comforts the mother of a victim in a string of grisly homicides he doesn't want to work because they're too depressing and he also doesn't realize the psycho responsible is a link to his primary case nooooo haha
HEAT, min 062: once done dispensing vehement hugs, there's no reason for Pacino to stick around the site of a murder he's assigned to solve. the clues will have to find *him*. he returns to the lonely Venora, who is steadily more confused as to what his job entails. frankly, same
HEAT, min 063: women watching, please beware: Venora does pull off the bangs. Pacino's delivery of the word "baby" is distinctly online, i.e., "babeey" and we must salute him for it. shame he slips into the ol' junkie-microwaves-a-baby trope. we get it!! you live on the edge!!!!
HEAT, min 064: yikes. hate to think how long Venora has had this speech in her back pocket. it's grislier than our """bad guys""" annihilating the private equity goons. yet still flattering his raw machismo! Pacino chews gum, and his face says: "not this again, but i'm also hard"
HEAT, min 065: wait, is Venora high too... ok never mind we've returned to Dennis Haysbert 20 minutes after he showed up to be ritualistically abused without context. i'm not a fan of this hazing culture (my college banned frats). but he's rolling with it. kind of. or not
HEAT, min 066: the transition from Haysbert and Kim Staunton's convo (smoldering, soulful, cleared my skin, etc.) to Brenneman and De Niro verges on satire. as in, she's literally explaining what a ski trip is. was he confused... was he /pretending/ to be confused... i tire of it
HEAT, min 067: let's roast De Niro for assuming New Zealand is a solid third date. rich nerd shit, i'm sorry. Brenneman guesses he's married, because her character is a poor judge of character. his rejoinder, "come wit me," is a long premature Puff Daddy/Godzilla tie-in. get paid
HEAT, min 068: the lines on De Niro's forehead: a field of sorrow, tilled with unspeakable regret. therefore, sexy synth theme (reprise). life before Tinder, folks. mercy that we switch over to tiny Natalie Portman—mournfully daydreaming of when she got to be a hitman's sidekick
HEAT, min 069: heh, nice. Portman gets a ride home from Pacino (also nice). and now—baw gawd, is that Dante Spinotti's music?? he nabs a lush aerial shot of downtown from the quietest helicopter ever made. city of angels... you might say it's "a" "main" "character" of the movie..
HEAT, min 070: here are cops as we prefer: bored, irritable with each other, sweating in the hold of a cargo truck as they lay in wait for a bust that won't happen. Pacino barely refrains from snapping the glasses of a lowly dweeb who bugs him. wish they were stuck there forever.
HEAT, min 071: but thank god our crime dudes are back in action! surely without Waingro as a trigger-happy albatross they can achieve the perfect heist denied to them in minutes 11-14. Pacino observes their heat signatures (remember? the title). De Niro arrives to feel the "vibe"
HEAT, min 072: the tension of De Niro striding down a concrete hallway, then fading into a shadowy corner, almost unbearable as it is. but smash to Val in steampunk gear, the dental whine of his super-drill? this should've been NC-17. a Pacino truck goon sits on a whoopie cushion
HEAT, min 073: De Niro hears... no, he senses the noise. he *senses* that he senses it. Pacino senses that he senses that he sensed it. Pacino's expression: "fuck, this is the only work i've done in months, and i'm sober." De Niro pulls Val, tells him his goggles were wack anyway
HEAT, min 074: you'd have to be made of petrified wood not to love the poetry of "both of them are not carrying anything." two dudes, unencumbered, taking the midnight air in an industrial park. LAPD still wants to shoot, but Pacino's hotter head gives him walkie-talkie supremacy
HEAT, min 075: splendidly pregnant 40 seconds of cops exiting an undercover U-Haul in dismay so Pacino can ream them out. but he's tired; it's time to go home and not emote around his wife. heist crew debrief: Sizemore knows his peacock tattoo is obscurely to blame for everything
HEAT, min 076: the spotless fit Trejo works in this scene makes De Niro look like a Reddit guy. your criminal mastermind with a free cup of water from Roy Rogers doesn't inspire confidence. Val's as ready to rob the bank as a 23-year-old freelancer is to pitch their trauma essays
HEAT, min 077: Sizemore agonizes. every twitch of a character actor that money can buy. one cannot help but lose oneself in the eerie smoothness of his 5 o'clock shadow. he says the action is the juice, but we don't believe it. Trejo's "yeah, sure" is the first nail in his coffin
HEAT, min 078: we're moving and grooving. Pacino plus Reservoir Dogs strut through a sterile Amazon warehouse. they're here for manager H A N K A Z A R I A, the greased fuckboy, the little union-busting prick. he will do anything not to be extradited to New Jersey. i get it tbh
HEAT, min 079: this is it: Pacino yells GREAT ASS. iconic (dare i say historic) cinéma. here's a theory on why it plays: it's not only his eruption, but how he almost says BIG, switches last-second to GREAT, and nearly defaults to GREAT BIG, then catches himself short. that's art
HEAT, min 080: [the cops fuck up and sound like dumbasses for another full minute]
HEAT, min 081: as Pacino gazes over the docks, he stumbles to an epiphany: The Wire season 2 is underrated. just kidding, it's more like: uh, i'm wearing a black shirt with a brown suit. no, what he actually realizes is: this music isn't as good as 'Graham's Theme' in 'Manhunter'
HEAT, min 082: Pacino affirms that the other cops are stupider than he. i'm trying to pinpoint the bro aesthetic of his sunglasses. let's say "guy who sells growth hormone to Tour de France cyclists." De Niro takes paparazzi shots, then meets Voight, who has aged another 15 years
HEAT, min 083: spending this long with Voight in a car... what did they pay De Niro again? the old guy acts as if he has an exclusive connect with the one hour photo. according to him, our boy's crime SAT scores are through the roof, he could easily go to Crime Stanford, or Yale—
HEAT, min 084: seriously, whatever chemical peel Voight's doing, yikes. or maybe he's sunburned from sitting in his car six hours a day. he's really giving De Niro advice when he hasn't apologized for his shit-tier "sell to the guys we robbed" scam! white mediocrity hitting tho..
HEAT, min 085: Pacino, prowling the glass-brick family manse for the first time in years. now a conflict of silences with Venora that should've precluded several Baumbach movies. Pacino aims for the upper hand by starting to wash a dirty dish, but no: he cannot sink to housework
HEAT, min 086: the camera leans in, upping the pressure of Pacino's domestic turmoil. some Bolivian marching powder, and he might even be able to vacuum. wait, shit, look at the time: he's got that nighttime helicopter tour, the ticket is nonrefundable =:ACTIVATE AERIAL MONTAGE:=
HEAT, min 087: great, it's Moby's prog cover of Joy Division's 'New Dawn Fades.' think of it: almost-30 Moby was scoring a movie that featured 13-year-old Natalie Portman. wonder if they kept in touch. Pacino drives straight into a Lynchian hallucination, lost highway, babeyy
HEAT, min 088: chase continues. other drivers instinctively make way for Pacino, not even honking when he cuts them off, in fear that he'll run them into a barrier and climb atop the wreckage, bellowing "HOOAH!" actually, he's laser-focused on chewing gum harder than ever before.
HEAT, min 089: how thoughtful! Pacino pulls De Niro over to tell him his back left tire is low. except, seeing the guy disturbingly sedate, he floats an invite to come watch him beer-bong another pot of coffee. at the diner, a Heinz bottle is all that holds the dudes in balance..
HEAT, min 090: heart of the film, you can't pick an element without underselling the rest, but: De Niro's disdain for "barbecues and ballgames." the fuck? he had no better examples of how being a normie sucks?? Pacino's exhaled "YeAah" is, in truth, a pithy rejoinder. get his ass
HEAT, min 091: Pacino musters all the interrogative calm he's ever had and bitches about his family, as well as Portman's father, "a large-type asshole." (oh, that type.) De Niro listens, but he's not gonna..... god, he is... he's just repeating the "Heat" maxim. sorta cringe tbh
HEAT, min 092:

"Yeah, it is what it is. It's that or we both better go do something else, pal."

"I don't know how to do anything else.

"Neither do I."

"I don't much want to, either."

"Neither do I."

—two canceled standup comedians getting coffee
HEAT, min 093: the men trade dreams, as men opposed will frequently do. there can be no climax to their duel without a mutual probe of psychic innards. it could be that the titular "Heat" is in fact a quality, a texture between them. don't send me the fanfic, i'm way ahead of you
HEAT, min 094: we've devolved to the /pissing on your sneakers/ level of intimidation and dick-swinging. Pacino sure gives as much as he can to a semi-monologue that roughly translates as "i wandered over from the Deadwood audition, and i'm ready to shoot guys." i',m lost here
HEAT, min 095: made Maddie watch this part without context, and

"extremely romantic"
"could be talking about anything"
"all about their gaze, and their breath"
"looking at each other, and breathing, and saying vague things that are charged with strange energy"
"i felt the heat"
HEAT, min 096: euphorically high on the sense that he sounded cool when facing off with his nemesis, but also eight or nine rails of cocaine, Pacino strolls into headquarters to find out that all his surveillance is fucked. that's what happens when you don't have the Patriot Act
HEAT, min 097: i'm doing this all the time, buzz-sawing through the ceiling of a parking garage. never know what you'll find up there. maybe some kinda circuit board. that's if you're lucky. guy can drill into all kinds of ceilings before he finds that lucky board. shit's awesome
HEAT, min 098: holy FUCK the return of Waingro. yes... yEs. it's the kind of curveball you can only pitch [typing on calculator app] about 57% of the way into the game. our greasy duder is here to "help" a hysterical Malibu Moneybro. i can tell you who's skeptical: Henry Rollins
HEAT, min 099: daytime, diner, heist crew in suits, and i've gotta tell ya, they've never looked more normal and not-high. not fidgety at all. BAW GAWD, is that Haysbert on the grill? could've sworn they cut him out of this. update: his job still sucks. nobody's wearing a mask...
HEAT, min 100: within a few seconds, Trejo reconfirms two things we've always known: he is 1) better dressed and 2) much smarter than all his white accomplices. incredible that the movie isn't about him. too late now for that: Val watches De Niro's most dramatic phone hang-up yet
HEAT, min 101: Haysbert, yeah, like who, or whom, i mean whomstd''D would not accept the job of wheelman for De Niro when he walks into your nasty hot grill zone with a pitch that has no specifics, and it's happening now, oh, fuck, jesus, well at least he's quitting the bad job,
HEAT, min 102: great to see Haysbert throw his shithead boss to the ground, even for the wrong reasons. let's toss it to the ladies, haven't checked on them lately. Brenneman: mundane work task. Judd and child: coffee and war news on CNN. okay, back to dudes: De Niro enters the
Heat, min 103: ...bank. Val has second thoughts but stays calm, listening to Green Day on his Walkman. De Niro's cheek mole is ready for the show. Sizemore coughs as if to say: "there are literally a thousand people in here." time to blackjack the guards, that's what they're for—
HEAT, min 104: fuck, lotta action here, that's the juice i'm talking now boys. the crew is definitively on edge, like high schoolers taking AP exams gone off Monster Energy. mostly, it's De Niro saying "We want to hurt no one." what are you, a medieval knight in a text-based RPG?
HEAT, min 105: they got that money— or did they? (as always, no spoilers, please.) the key finds its lock in a safe, and Val is the first of our dudes to realize just how heavy $4 million in cash in Saran Wrap is. by the year 2003, you could send robots in to rob the bank for you
HEAT, min 106: see, Waingro's not just some "loose end." he's like a clump of hair stopping up your shower drain. hate to say this, but with barely an hour left, we might never see a job go right. LAPD rolls up, prepared to start shooting—criminals perhaps, but they're not picky,
HEAT, min 107: Sizemore thinks the bag is secure; that's the classic fallacy of "having an actual bag in your lap." a FedEx truck secures the most brilliantly subliminal product placement in a 90s action sequence. time now standardizes so that driving and walking are equally fast
HEAT, min 108: Val shoots first, i see that, but the cops have something like the opposite of a plan. i'd swear they just want the gunfight?! who would've thunk it.... all right, cue the semi-automatics. this should go great for everybody. lots of ammo to go around, don't be shy
HEAT, min 109: guns are legal in America
HEAT, min 110: Haysbert gone, bad way to go, the unluckiness of a man with morals (and also bad luck). otherwise, this gunfight so far is a "410757864530 Dead Cops" kinda deal. U-Haul and Chevy get ad space. i like imagining myself in my own shitty Jetta, caught in the crossfire—
HEAT, min 111: tactically, here, crew has finesse: you can tell they set up a backyard obstacle course like folks who train for American Ninja Warrior, only for killing police. to think we could've avoided all this if the LAPD had been defunded. Pacino is a man outside a budget..
HEAT, min 112: Val's hit! and does his Jim Morrison impression. De Niro leaps in to shoulder-carry his #1 Dude. i've reached that moment where i can't remember what happened before this shootout, but as the war moves to a supermarket lot, i mourn for the charcoal grills destroyed
HEAT, min 113: wow, my family had that station wagon. no idea it could ram a parked car so easily. (unless i've repressed a memory of my mom escaping the mall.) Sizemore redeems himself by charging into rich office jerks at lunch, but squanders this cred by taking a child hostage
HEAT, min 114: you know the saying: sometimes the action is the juice, and sometimes the action juices you. RIP Tom Sizemore, mins. 008-114. clean headshot by Pacino, who has been gaming a lot lately, and did *not* want to do the extra paperwork on a kidnapping. [dramatic exhale]
HEAT, min 115: weirdest thing about the 1990s was how, when you got bad news, it wasn't from twitter but glancing up at a TV bulletin where they show a pic of your dead boyfriend. speaking of a "bullet" that's "in," Val's having his removed by—i'm sorry—Jeremy fuCkiNg Piven? man
HEAT, min 116: cool trivia about when De Niro bullies Piven into handing over his shirt: it's not part of the script, just some on-set hazing. (cameras happened to be rolling.) Val, in shock, defaults to simp mode. De Niro has the nerve to blame Trejo for everything. he's lost it
HEAT, min 117: when you're all out of moves, you call Hank Azaria. weasel's been at his little desk in Vegas with a cop watching him this whole time, hasn't he. but Judd doesn't know, and she has no idea a roomful of men heard Pacino shouting about her ass.. probably for the best
HEAT, min 118: NOOOOO TREJO WHAT HAVE THEY DONE TO YOU MY BEAUTIFUL BOY, is what i would have said if i were De Niro, but nah he's pretty heartless about it, you have to wonder why we thought he was cool—and you know what, *was* he cool? i think he's just moody. wow, breakthrough
HEAT, min 119: classic that Waingro and the moneygoons™ together still can't quite finish off Trejo, who's left to answer cop-mode De Niro's interrogation. ever deliver that much exposition while you're dying? takes an artist. his wife is dead, so he doesn't wanna live. Wife Guy
HEAT, min 120: De Niro puts Trejo out of his misery & becomes a man possessed. he rings Voight, who is molting his skin over a glass of port wine in a billiards hall. this is the genius helping him arrange retribution and escape, EVEN THOUGH HE FUCKED UP EVERYTHING FROM THE START
HEAT, min 121: beautiful passage in which Pacino intuits, out loud, through sheer profiling, for the benefit of another detective in an elevator with him, basically everything De Niro has done and said in the last couple scenes. now it's time to carry their guns through a hallway
HEAT, min 122: no knocking when you're there to mess up Henry Rollins—blast your way into the apartment, his thicc torso can absorb at least +8 damage. a lesson in never snitching here: tip off the cops to a bank robbery, they shove you through a sliding glass door to say thanks
HEAT, min 123: De Niro has hiked an "advanced" trail up into Griffith Park and exhibits not a speck of dust on his person, we respect it. why is it so funny that Moneybro is watching hockey?! anyway, he's dead. Judd and Azaria embark on their happily ever after. roll them credits
HEAT, min 124: kidding, Azaria is totally redpilled by now. somehow, in spite of everything, this is more blatant copaganda—the stern detective ordering him to simp for Judd. while he does ultimately relent, our Vegas Casanova keeps up a sexist rant. honestly, dude.... canceled.
HEAT, min 125: two hours five minutes in, about time we gave Judd the room to stretch. orrrrrr we could listen to the cop lay out a long, lurid hypothetical of what happens to her kid if she doesn't turn on Val. good god, nobody who's seen the man's ponytail would ask this of her
HEAT, min 126: walls closing in. Judd tries a noirish hussy remark, but it's hopeless, the cop memorized a list of macho retorts to every fuck-you in her arsenal. he dials Pacino, standing over Rollins, who nurses a headache and realizes he'll never get his apartment deposit back
HEAT, min 127: frankly hate how Pacino revels in dominos falling: penthouse balcony, wind in hair, referring to Waingro as a "cowboy." unaware he's also a suspect in that murder, giving him time to get away because ooooh maybe that's how you 💓 catch 💕 De Niro 💖 and 💞 kiss 💘
HEAT, min 128: Pacino, in case you hadn't picked up on this earlier, completes his evolution into a psychic police pokémon. back at Brenneman's villa in the hills, it's trouble—De Niro just cracked opened the last bottle of club soda. she flees in anguish from this crude display;
HEAT, min 129: although the ghostly, swaying long grass is very "anime" here, this mini-chase up the hill, into an unlikely aesthetic dawn, is just quasi-baked. some coyote should have attacked them. i'm not asking for much here,
HEAT, min 130: truly excruciating hours as De Niro makes a pitch to Brenneman for starting over, a fresh life with no specifics whatsoever. ah, picture it... i'm trying to think of a less enjoyable part of the movie, and then i remember the part when they got together. metals!!!!
HEAT, min 131: how, HOW did i forget Pacino gets cucked? Venora all but gloating as she serves the guy breakfast? Xander Berkeley has the zaniest '90s résumé, and it includes watching Pacino fumblingly brick his own TV. dude's scared now? wait till he hears this lunatic is a cop
HEAT, min 132: Berkeley takes the mantle of Azaria 2.0 as Pacino shouts him back into his seat. there he's obliged to hear Venora explain how he was a sex puppet in a civil war of married Italian-Americans. it's ice-cold until she proclaims herself "stoned on grass and Prozac."🙃
HEAT, min 133: De Niro accepts from Voight a fat envelope swiped from the gift table at a mob wedding. Brenneman has come along: their third(?) date is escaping the country as fugitives. a car on the street interrupts the scene, but it's just some idiot in a Tesla who can't drive
HEAT, min 134: classic third-date maneuver, take your date to a cliffside in the Palisades, try to convince her to dump you and walk all the way home by herself. the early birds are cheering her on! boy, De Niro's turning cheesy now. damn tho i bet he means it... jk.. unless.....

as a birthday gift to my girlfriend, who is brought up at the very beginning of this thread and therefore every single time I update it, I am not watching nor commenting on a minute of HEAT tonight
HEAT, min 135: holy smokes, this De Niro pitch to Brenneman works? i love movies. though i guess if i had a shot at living in Fiji and never working again i might roll the dice myself. you'd probably even get used to his goatee. maybe get into shark diving, build your own boat...
HEAT, min 136: catching up with Judd and pals. Azaria, smarmy as ever, golden. the cop, barking orders, calling Judd "sugar"—we're laying it on thick tonight. lady of the hour is hesitant, regretting that this hairstyle is the last Val will ever see. ah, fate has a sting of humor
HEAT, min 137: gee, this deserted street corner is bustling with activity. Val rolls up, shorn of ponytail, haunted, hurting—in no shape to join that pickup basketball game. spotting Judd on a balcony, he breaks out his grin. but with a tiny gesture, she informs him: shit is wack
HEAT, min 138: Val absorbs the intel with a richness of spycraft we've come to expect from these elite robbers who have fucked up the entire movie. Judd head fakes, they don't fall for it, and why does it matter? they'll fuck up anyhow. Los Angeles baby the police are in traffic
HEAT, min 139: pins and needles as we wait for the cops to buy Val's phony license, and then, because he's white, not make up a bullshit reason to detain him anyway. Judd exercises quiet anguish on her couch. hardass detective starts being nice to her; after all, she's single now
HEAT, min 140: Val cruises into his weepy, cerulean future, just like a [quick google search] Capricorn? ok then. at headquarters, Pacino grows impatient—he's gone through seven packs of gum. latest news from the hotel: "Waingro went for ice." at that sentence, I'd give up also
HEAT, min 141: here's Pacino at his most relatable: he entirely stops caring. "WHADDAWEGOT," he exclaims (neat bookend of "GIMMEALLYAGOT" from minute 34) and leaves to partake of room service whiskey + Cinemax. he gets in a squad car and drives like a man with his crotch on fire
HEAT, min 142: I just, Pacino...has his busted TV in the passenger seat. worries about it. touching, except he kicks it onto the street to prove a point to people waiting for a bus. what? none of them know either. lost his touch for commoners. to the hotel, its wet, normal carpet
HEAT, min 143: from his balcony, Pacino admires how smooth the traffic is without him in it. he silently notes that the TV is crappier than the one he just chucked to the curb. what next? NATALIE PORTMAN BLEEDING OUT IN THE BATH TUB, OF COURSE&WE ALL SAW IT COMING, IT MAKES SENSE
HEAT, min 145: not a lot to say about Portman being taken into the ER, it's just upsetting, and then we get a beat of parent-blame that's a hair shy of "this is what happens to latchkey kids!!" moral panic. unable to give up tactical command, Pacino barks at the hospital staff.
HEAT, min 146: Venora not handling the situation. i get it, picked a bad time to cheat with the guy who would go on to play the turncoat Secret Service dude in 'Air Force One.' dad mode suits Pacino, however. De Niro calls up Voight to have his life ruined one last time.. forever
HEAT, min 147: that Voight signs off with "take it easy" when he < n a t u r a l l y > would have said "take it sleazy" is the greatest failing of the screenplay. thank god Brenneman and De Niro recover with a silence so supernaturally pregnant it may as well be the Virgin Mary
HEAT, min 148: split decision from De Niro, who swerves to a detour yet expresses unfounded cockiness about getting to the airport on time. cool, he has a mental atlas of every sleazy hotel in town. he parks, ditches Brenneman for one more strutting hallway shot.. remember those?
HEAT, min 149: nobody questions De Niro in staff areas, there's always some playboy in a sharp suit skulking around down there. he uses the pretext of a room service fuckup to learn Waingro's room number—no solidarity with the working class here! Brenneman sits in the car, acting
HEAT, min 150: not sure (very high) but think i just saw a minute of the movie where De Niro, disguised as high-end security guard, espies the shotgun of the only cop in history to convincingly pose undercover as a concierge, then does his action dude gun-cocking in the elevator,
HEAT, min 151: my man grabbed a Maglite too? all right then. this garbage can/elevator/fire alarm prank is a favorite, gotta try it sometime. and what would the movie be if we didn't see cops getting clowned again. Pacino's beeper going off here is grossly on the nose— excellent
HEAT, min 152: yet he does not move. instead Pacino sticks around pulling a morose enough face (he chomps gum sadly) to make Venora ask if the marriage can be saved. his answer: "nuh-uh, babeyy, not when i'm locked in a lifelong struggle with my Jungian shadow. please understand"
HEAT, min 153: gosh what's this. Pacino, already cucked and yet a Chad, pretends to have empathy long enough to get permission to leave, then tap-dances down the stairs to meet his cop destiny? MEN'S RIGHTS. including De Niro's right to walk menacingly through a hallway once more
HEAT, min 154: unbeknownst to surveillance dweebs, De Niro knocks shadily on the door of a room where Waingro is dressed in a robe that has to be the cleanest garment he's touched in his life. uncanny. freeballing with a pistol in hand, he fucks around and, ultimately, finds out.
HEAT, min 155: this "look at me" schtick wastes valuable seconds on ego. it's not all about you, De Niro! although truly, Waingro's demon death wheeze makes it worthwhile. as Brenneman frets below, her man is briefly apprehended by a cop who, not being Pacino, gets his ass kicked
HEAT, min 156: a hotel evacuation rolls on, and we're *this* close to Brenneman being 100% sure this doesn't play out for her. Pacino, with more access to helicopters than the producers of Succession, is in the air for his nightly neon fix when he remembers: "crime guy.. catch.."
HEAT, min 157: Pacino moves against the river of the crowd, “reading” them, and technically “hugging” one guy. he catches sight of a worried, unmoving Brenneman. De Niro ditches the tie after a long day at work, still chuckling about the murderah FUCK isn’t that his nemesis? Fuck
HEAT, min 158: here we are: De Niro's ultimate test. the moment to put his entire core philosophy into action. remember the hard-boiled adage he gave us: "when you see the police, dump your girlfriend like a sack of rotten peaches." Pacino's approach to life: "shove firefighters"
HEAT, min 159: Pacino seizes a beat cop's shotgun, which cannot be the protocol. Brenneman: statue. De Niro is hampered by bougainvillea, then runs like he's afraid of missing the champagne on the plane. (understand, pre-9/11, any rando could break onto a tarmac w/ weapon drawn)
HEAT, min 160: gentlemen, welcome to a maze of shiny airport boxes. the rules are simple, and nobody knows them. lens flare dominates—J.J. Abrams was born on set during shooting. speaking of, Pacino fires first, De Niro gets cover and returns. sprinting well for a man in loafers!
HEAT, min 161: Pacino thinks long and hard about shooting an empty field. ah, not worth it. De Niro hides himself behind another low structure—it's worked so far, am I right? the mind.. drifts to Val Kilmer having a fine time in the Caribbean. where's Jon Voight to help out here!
HEAT, min 162: chess match between light and shadow and guns. very thematic, lots of motifs. Pacino walks the knife edge of stimulant comedown and sleep deprivation. De Niro's desperate enough to win, though distractedly computing how to trick Brenneman into taking him back later
HEAT, min 163: no mistaking it; De Niro now has some unspoken questions about how airports work. too late, Mr. Metals! the whispering weeds and synthesizers signal a climax as Pacino draws perilously near to the corner where he and his quarry shall tongue each other with abandon—
HEAT, min 164: production note, both guys should be a lot sweatier at this stage of events. back to the juice: Pacino taps into the astral plane. De Niro takes the only line of attack he has and gets shot everywhere but someplace instantly fatal. that's what bros.. do.. for bros,
HEAT, min 165:



c'mere bro

ah damn fuck bro

yea it's bad

shit bro you're like—you're—

i'm dyin bro

yea i'm sayin

i told you this would happen bro

no i told you

bro i said it. i told you

bro c'mon not when you're dyin

take my hand bro

i can't

do it

ok bro
HEAT, min 166: Moby is back, this time in arpeggiated form. Pacino's eyes glaze with meaning, his hair resolves somehow, and De Niro dies faintly disgusted with himself—but the hands do not unclasp. we wait for a plane that does not appear.

wait, it's over?
HEAT, min 167: as the song reaches its crescendo and the credits roll, we have so many people to thank. Michael Mann, who almost singlehandedly forged the "dudes rock" ethos. he had help from Joel Kramer, the *only* stunt coordinator... and of course, key grip W.C. "Chunky" Huse
HEAT, min 168: lots of movies came out in 1995.. Jumanji... Waterworld... can't think of any others. none of them were HEAT, and i give technical weapons trainers Mick Gould and Andy McNab a lot of credit for that. ditto Gala Catering. i noticed the actors didn't starve to death,
HEAT, min 169: ooh here's the cast. you've heard enough about the principals. Voight, fourth-billed, what a slippery lizard fucko. raw deal for Haysbert, wasn't it? Waingro's real name: Kevin Gage. sir, bravo, a revolting performance. and featuring Danny Trejo as.... yep, "Trejo"
HEAT, min 170: acknowledgements, i'm sorry to say, include LAPD and California prisons. wouldn't it have been funny to snub them? onto the soundtrack, a billion songs—release the Brian Eno cut! Kronos Quartet, you drama queens. Panavision, Technicolor: this was a moving picture.
(but the last minute isn't a minute at all, nor half as much: 26 seconds to assure us the film we saw was fiction, owned by the brothers Warner... what is left when the heat has gone? no extra twist, no more finales. an atomic stillness of the cold: we let that surround us now.)
You can follow @MilesKlee.
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