Yup, Miami Vice. It's come to this. Actually, this is a fucking fantastic movie. Surprisingly enough, this is one of Director Michael Mann's most poised, balanced, and compelling brushstrokes, and I'll admit, considering the Chicago native's impressive canon: Thief, Manhunter, Last of the Mohicans, Heat, The Insider, Collateral, this is a bold, valiant, you could even say audacious position. But, something to consider - there is no stronger, more engaging male-female juxtaposition than that of Isabella and Sonny in any Michael Mann picture. Released on 28 July, 2006, Mann's ninth feature to date, Miami Vice, is not only wickedly entertaining, adventurous in scope and translation, it's a fun fucking movie. Now I don't have fun in movies, not anymore...I can't relax, I over think the process, but this picture possesses some tremendous set-pieces, its action sequences are exhilarating, practical, hyper-realistic, its cast first-rate, I mean take a look at Sonny's god damn mustache for fuck's sake. That shit says in no uncertain terms, "playtime is over."
Miami Vice is a high-octane, high-tension, high-impact actioneer, intel-op military-grade drama, and intelligently written, clandestine romance. It is tense, self-assured, yet disorienting with its ambition. It's complex, web-like narrative so elaborate its almost ridiculous; the film is so fucking multi-layered, so self-important, so hysterically macho and contains so much vague, political posturing made even more byzantine when elucidated, the $135 million effort almost collapses under its own weight. But, with all the testosterone-infused gunfire, all the Miami chutzpah-braggadocio, this gonzo outpouring of violence and chauvinist zealotry confidently, effortlessly orbits around A MAN AND A WOMAN. Sure the fucked-up fairy tale of Sonny and Isabella is cursed, we know this from the onset - cue the scene below...
:20-second mark of this clip. We see a car's wheel separate their bodies - foreshadowing the distance that will inevitably come between them and the immediacy of their relationship, rare is love so powerful and urgent. Cuba, still suffering from our decades-old embargo, seems stuck in time, as if to suggest that this doomed love affair is about to suffer a similar fate.
Great scene, but even better is the film's ending. Gong Li and that handsome Irish prick that goes by the name of Colin Farrell are so god damn good together, you are simply hypnotized by their bond. At the film's 2:10:00 mark, Sonny whispers to her...
"A man named Frank is gonna come in a boat, and he will run you to Cios de Habanos. From there you can find a way to Havana, where no one will follow you, including me..."
And then the most inspired moment in the film: Isabella looks at Sonny, heartbroken, but this information is safeguarded within those stoic, serious eyes. Without muttering a fucking word, Sonny Crockett cautiously glances back towards her, hoping, I suspect, that she will ask him to come with her. But this love story is a cautionary tale, isn't it? She keeps her mask on, and why not? It has been used to protect her for so many years. And that facade, so delicate, just a tear away from crumbling. But, she keeps her gaze locked on the sea ahead of her. Crockett's eyes, on the other, shake at their foundation - it's a melancholy and effective scene; strangely poignant, subtle, and touching - odd for such a tumultuous and violent picture.
Isabella then counters..."remember what I told you...time is luck..."
Cautiously, Sonny replies, "Our luck ran out."
Then at 2:10:35 mark, there's a profile two-shot where the two star-crossed lovers become one. Amazing ending. Perfect anti-hipster fodder. For all you hoodlum-romantics, especially those that fancy comfortable silences, there is nothing more erotic than a film that stresses the notion of showing and not telling.
Miami Vice is a high-octane, high-tension, high-impact actioneer, intel-op military-grade drama, and intelligently written, clandestine romance. It is tense, self-assured, yet disorienting with its ambition. It's complex, web-like narrative so elaborate its almost ridiculous; the film is so fucking multi-layered, so self-important, so hysterically macho and contains so much vague, political posturing made even more byzantine when elucidated, the $135 million effort almost collapses under its own weight. But, with all the testosterone-infused gunfire, all the Miami chutzpah-braggadocio, this gonzo outpouring of violence and chauvinist zealotry confidently, effortlessly orbits around A MAN AND A WOMAN. Sure the fucked-up fairy tale of Sonny and Isabella is cursed, we know this from the onset - cue the scene below...
:20-second mark of this clip. We see a car's wheel separate their bodies - foreshadowing the distance that will inevitably come between them and the immediacy of their relationship, rare is love so powerful and urgent. Cuba, still suffering from our decades-old embargo, seems stuck in time, as if to suggest that this doomed love affair is about to suffer a similar fate.
Great scene, but even better is the film's ending. Gong Li and that handsome Irish prick that goes by the name of Colin Farrell are so god damn good together, you are simply hypnotized by their bond. At the film's 2:10:00 mark, Sonny whispers to her...
"A man named Frank is gonna come in a boat, and he will run you to Cios de Habanos. From there you can find a way to Havana, where no one will follow you, including me..."
And then the most inspired moment in the film: Isabella looks at Sonny, heartbroken, but this information is safeguarded within those stoic, serious eyes. Without muttering a fucking word, Sonny Crockett cautiously glances back towards her, hoping, I suspect, that she will ask him to come with her. But this love story is a cautionary tale, isn't it? She keeps her mask on, and why not? It has been used to protect her for so many years. And that facade, so delicate, just a tear away from crumbling. But, she keeps her gaze locked on the sea ahead of her. Crockett's eyes, on the other, shake at their foundation - it's a melancholy and effective scene; strangely poignant, subtle, and touching - odd for such a tumultuous and violent picture.
Isabella then counters..."remember what I told you...time is luck..."
Cautiously, Sonny replies, "Our luck ran out."
Then at 2:10:35 mark, there's a profile two-shot where the two star-crossed lovers become one. Amazing ending. Perfect anti-hipster fodder. For all you hoodlum-romantics, especially those that fancy comfortable silences, there is nothing more erotic than a film that stresses the notion of showing and not telling.
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