I once knew an undercover cop. Well, “knew” is a pretty loose term. This guy was the best friend of a good friend of my best friend – “knew OF” him more than I “knew” him. But I sat down at a few parties and chatted with him a few times.
And – if I hadn’t been told - I never would have guessed in a million years that he was an undercover cop.
He wasn’t allowed to talk about his job in social circles. But he worked in a different city from the one of his youth – were I met him – so it was a fairly open secret in our circle what his job was. He was young then – like me – early twenties. His undercover work was – like the
And – as young as he was – and as long ago as that was – I can still picture his face, and his smile. He REALLY didn’t seem like a cop. He seemed a lot more like a drug dealer, to be honest. The few times I met him, he wasn’t serious, like I’d expect a cop to be. He was likable, garrulous, over-confident, maybe even a little arrogant, and he consumed alcohol and soft drugs and loose women in a frenzy.
He was exactly what I pictured a drug dealer to be. Which I guess is why he was perfect for the job.
On the other hand…I wondered…had he started OUT like that?
Surely once upon a time…he’d been a serious, dedicated, relatively sober member of the police academy. But how far had he buried that side of himself when I met him? How much had the drug-taking-and-selling lifestyle taken hold…how much was real? Which side was the closest to the real him? The hidden, serious, out-for-justice cop? Or the surface, fun-loving, out-for-anything-goes outlaw?
Who knows exactly where those boundaries lay?
How long could he maintain a career like that?
How long before he would burn out? (He was my age but looked ten years older back then).
How much of his act was built on fear of exposure?
How intense was that fear – his adrenaline levels - that must have seldom settled down?
How long before the romance and the fortune of the criminal lifestyle began to seem more preferable to him than the stable, serious, penniless life of a cop?
How long before the ACT became real?
These were the things I wondered, 15 years ago when I knew this guy.
And these are the things I wonder now, when I think of undercover cop work, and when I see films and TV shows portraying such work.
The best of these films and shows nail the fine line between justice and the temptations of criminal spoils, and the constant fear or living on the edge, of being exposed.
Some of the best of these include “Donnie Brasco”, “Reservoir Dogs”, parts of TV’s “24”. And Scorcese’s upcoming “The Departed” promises to be another.
Miami Vice is not one of them.
Oh, it’s a fine movie, perfectly adequate. But it only flirts around the subjects of undercover fear and temptation.
There are times in this film – especially with Colin Farrell’s character - Sonny Crocket - where you can feel the tension, the stress, of living on the edge, of lying to someone you’ve developed feelings for
Or with Foxx’s character – Richardo Tubbs - as he bluffs his way outta certain death with a performance that might not be Oscar-worthy in the same way as Foxx’s “Ray” was, but…is a lot more lifesaving…and this scene made me wonder HOW many undercover cops have bluffed for their lives like this.
But these moments are few and far between, and thus there is an overwhelming sense of missed opportunity in "Miami Vice". These two men are tip-toeing through the lion’s den – but there are only a few times when I sensed their lives were in any real danger, or their psyches under any real stress.
Sure they are pros, but…no one’s that cool.
Unless, of course, they are DeNiro’s character in “Heat”, or Tom Cruise’s character in “Collateral” (two much more superior films from the director of “Miami Vice” – Michael Mann).
But these two characters above in the earlier films – as ice-cool and fascinating to watch as they were - these are the BAD guys. They were so detached from normal reality, we didn’t NEED to feel any sympathy for them – and yet we did, because Mann, in “Heat”, built a believable back story for DeNiro’s character, and because in “Collateral”, he hired perhaps the most audience-sympathetic actor of his generation for the role of Vincent, and also encouraged one of Cruise’s best performances in the role.
We have empathy for these two dudes, but we didn’t need too – because they were technically the villains. In “Heat” we were perhaps intended to feel more sympathy and association with Al Pacino’s intense (but infinitely less cool than DeNiro) cop, and in “Collateral” we were undoubtedly intended to associated with the character played (also, previously for Mann) by Jamie Foxx – a role and a character and a performance that were note-perfect. Pacino and Collateral’s Foxx were the good guys, and even if they weren’t a touch as cool as their respective bad guys, we still were sorta on their side. And even if BIG parts of us were also on the sides of the BAD guys in those flicks, that WASN’T a bad thing – empathy all round.
But here…in “Miami Vice”…
We are totally NOT supposed to feel anything for the bad guys, who are technically fascinating, but not sexy or alluring at all.
But we certainly SHOULD be feeling SOME connection for the two ostensible heroes of the piece – Crockett and Tubbs.
And yet…any connection we feel, any sympathy, is rare.
Because each of these guys is simply too-cool-for-school.
Perhaps THEY are a lot like real cops.
Perhaps they are partners bound by unspeakable experience.
And yet…there seems to be NO relationship between them. They speak to each other like robots, they seldom crack jokes or smile or show affection or concern...or anything.
They are cooler than cool. TOO cool.
I assume Mann’s intention was to portray the relationship of two people who had gone through hell and back together so many times that they were now blood brothers – telepathic twin bothers – who’ve worked together so long that they don’t NEED to speak to understand each other’s thoughts and feelings. Minimalism is fine, and it’s very “in” right now, I get that. And yet…great cinema has shown that a lot a great relationships can still be portrayed onscreen with minimal dialogue…with a look, a glance, a glare, a smile, a shrug, a wink.
But Crockett and Tubbs seem oblivious to each other most of the time.
It’s a shame.
There’s nothing really wrong with the performances per-se. Farrell’s range as an actor is limited, although Foxx is a sensational actor – and both Colin’s are equipped with considerable movie star charisma. But neither is asked to stretch much here, apart from the odd longing look at a female, they are simply required to play totally impassive. Physically they suit the roles made famous on TV, but again, Foxx comes off better – looking a lot more comfortable in the designer suits than Farrell, who looks a little lost out of his usual tight blue jeans and black t-shirt. Perhaps this is why he goes overboard on the traditional Crockett stubble by adding a porn-star mustache and a mullet.
Nevertheless, these are minor blips, the central acting is fine – the major problem with Crockett and Tubbs here is not their style, but – as I say – their lack of interaction.
Ironically, Foxx and Cruise is “Collateral” seemed to have more affection for each other than Foxx and Farrell in “Vice”…and the former duo were actually antagonists, NOT partners.
I wish the latter duo had managed something…shown some shared understanding and tension and fear and relief and humour…
Oh well…
On the other hand, the two leads do show some emotion at times with other characters. Foxx’s Tubbs is again the most successful here – in a symbiotic, passionate affair with a member of his vice squad, Trudy. Again, there is minimal dialogue here between the two of them, yet (unlike the relationship of the two leading men), the feelings of Trudy and Tubbs are evident in their body and facial language – love, worry, fear, despair, desire, mutual need.
Farrell’s Crockett is given a lot more screen time in his love/sex-story – as an undercover(s) “lust-or-maybe-love” thing with the financial controller of the drug cartel they’ve infiltrated – who also happens to be the girlfriend of the cartel’s head. It’s a clichéd set up, and it’s ridiculous how quickly she falls into Crockett’s arms - and bed – but otherwise it plays ok. This 2-IC role is played by Asian beauty Gong Li, and she looks great, and is fine – regal and sophisticated – until she opens her mouth and speaks in garbled English that I’d have trouble passing at pre-intermediate level. The delivery is flat, with zero intonation, and portrays no emotion. Perhaps Mann wanted this – she’s as cool and reserved as the boys. But it makes her hysterical turnaround at the end of the film (when she gets a big surprise) quite unbelievable – she goes from the ultimate self-preserver to the ultimate needy-whiner. She’s better when she doesn’t talk. The non-dialogue scenes where she dirty dances or dirty glances with Farrell are much more successful.
Speaking of dirty, the sex scenes in Miami Vice are fairly well done, but very mild of course. Although the Vietnamese audience I watched them with in Diamond might dispute that "mild" assertion, because many of them giggled nervously throughout the erotic stuff, like it was the first time they’d even seen the two-headed monster. Perhaps it was. My friend Scarlet though, who I watched the pic with, didn’t bat an eye.
Another thing about the movie which probably didn’t click with the locals here was the mis-en-scene, or, should I say, the mis-en-drug-scene.
This was perhaps my favourite aspect of "Miami Vice". Mann doesn’t waste any time with establishing shots or slow character introduction or clumsy plot exposition. He simply drops the audience straight into the story…well, straight into one night on the town for Crockett and Tubbs and pulls us straight outta another night on the town for them, with an abrupt jump cut at the end (which thankfully meant the audience didn’t all start walking out before the credits as they usually do here when they sense the action is over and the film winding up).
I liked in “Miami Vice” how we where just thrown into the midst of the vice squad work, with nothing spelled out, no blatant exposition. WE had to put things together to work out what was going on - and how things worked in the drug trade and the vice squad. The intricacies of drug smuggling, and the confusing techno-drug languages used meant that a large proportion of the central dialogue went over my head – so it would be little wonder that the Vietnamese audience was baffled. Yet I found the verisimilitude fascinating and (as often in crime pics like this) found myself wondering how true to life such details are.
The filming style Mann uses here is very interesting – the jittery, digital, sometimes grainy handheld style that worked well in much of “Collateral” is used even more here – mostly successfully. Sometimes it feels like we are watching an episode of “Cops” – or at least early-"NYPD Blue" – and undoubtedly that was Mann’s intention, to give this film a sustained doco-reality feel. Apart from a few moments of – “hey, where did the camera go then?” - it works really well, and in the action scenes adds a great kinetic urgency and excitement.
The action scenes are alas few and far between. The climactic shootout is technically well-done, but less sustained or tense than “Heat”. The only real tension is generated in the film’s best sequence, towards the end, when a team member taken hostage must be rescued.
It’s not an exciting film, mostly, but it is interesting, and the setting and location shoots are perfectly utilized – expect for a ridiculous CGI shot of the drug baron’s lair sitting on the edge of
Everything is washed out.
Perhaps Mann was watching an old TV episode and he turned the colour saturation on his TV way down towards Black & White until he said – “that’s it! That’s
Maybe.
Unlike my reviews for “Superman Returns” and “Batman Begins”, I’ve intentionally avoided comparisons in this review between the original show(s) and the current one. Until now. I’ve held off for a few reasons – the main one being that this film here is a completely different animal to the classic 80’s TV show that spawned it. The only similarities are the central characters' names, their jobs, and the town they work in. Michael Mann must have made a conscious decision to make a huge departure from the TV series to this new film, a huge departure from colour to darkness, from gloss to grit.
Mann may have been the creator of the original series – I’m not sure – but I AM sure that he was heavily involved in the famous production design – innovative and unique at the time, it helped him make his name. The ridiculous pastel suits and designer styles and high-living lifestyles of these cops where both alluring and ripe-for-send up – which they’ve gotten ever since. I STILL cop crap (ie: get affectionately teased) for my brief “Miami Vice” phase in the mid-eighties when I periodically borrowed my sister’s white jacket and wore it with my white tasseled shoes - with no socks - for a night on the town.
Maybe that was the strongest influence of the show on me – fashion. I liked the show, but unlike stuff like “Magnum PI” or “Moonlighting” at the time, it was never a must-see for me. The standard “crime is bad” storylines on the series had little sway with me. Sure, it had more depth and mood than most cop shows that had preceded it, but compared to the stuff of today, it was cop-show-lite. But back then, sure, I’ll admit it, I wanted to live like Sonny Crockett, on my own boat with a pet alligator and lots of babes and a cool convertible. But otherwise the best part of the show was the awesome intro-credits montage – which could have been used by the Miami Tourist Commission – lots of quick cuts of jiggly boobs and butt cheeks and power boats and bright beaches - set to a great twangy synthesizer track. It was a side to
But apart from the innovative brightness and color the other thing I liked about the 80’s show were the relationships.
Don Johnson was the star of the show, and like Colin Farrell, he had limited range but oodles of charisma. The dude they got to play his partner could act a little, but looked funny – like his skin colour was painted on badly – maybe he looked funny because he was playing a character with a funny name – “Tubbs”. I can’t remember the actor’s name – “Philip–something” – but it was a funny name too. He wasn’t the luckiest dude.
Don Johnson got the coolest suits, the only car, the designer stubble, the best girls, and the coolest name: Crockett. Hell of a lot better than “Tubbs”. And of course Crockett (and Johnson) got the best “personal stories” – the burned-out cop rebuilding his life with purpose and teamwork and hot girls. Tubbs rarely got a personal story (or a girl) at all.
Anyway despite this inequality, Crocket and Tubbs on the TV series actually HAD a good connection, with affectionate-cum-irate cop-partner banter that probably seems sappy and clichéd these days, but back then, seemed cool while at the same time seeming warm and fuzzy. These guys cared about each other, and bailed each other - and their squad mates out – not just on a professional level, but on a personal one as well.
THAT’S a big thing that this new flick is missing. I can manage without the pastel suits. But I can’t manage without that character connection. I guess we are expected to fill in the blanks. There’s just too many blanks to fill in.
It’s OK.
It’s not classic Mann.
It’s less fascinating than “Heat”, but then again, "Heat" had an awesome “two sides of the same coin” character story and a more linear, traditional plot.
It’s less character driven than “Collateral”, but then again, Collateral was anchored by a brilliant, sympathetic performance by Foxx as the cab driver.
A very small percentage of people who watch “Miami Vice” will be ice-cool undercover cops, so – without help – we will struggle to empathize with these dudes.
At the end of this film, after all they’ve gone through, we still don’t really know how Crockett and Tubbs have changed. This is undoubtedly due to the fact that we’ve never really known them throughout. Undoubtedly due to their scarcity of dialogue and body language and the scarcity of sympathy for the leads.
We assume they are a little more burned-out, a little more wounded, a little more doubtful about their career choice…
But we don’t know.
And I wanted to.
Just like I wonder occasionally how that undercover cop I once knew in
It’s a fascinating, necessary, admirable job. I’ll never have the guts to do it. But I’ll always be enthralled by those that do.
Just like I’ll always be enthralled by pastel suits and slip-on shoes with no socks…
