Some classic Mickey Rourke for that ass, post-The Wrestler adoration. I'd seen bits and pieces of this one on TV years back, and was always intrigued, but just never got around to watching it top-to-bottom. Thanks to my love of Rourke's comeback extravanganza The Wrestler, I bumped this one up to the peak of my Queue, and now have finally seen the entirety.
Quite the pitch-perfect example of how important atmosphere is to a film. There's a coating of Gothic dread and this-won't-end-positively in every frame of this bad boy, it's it's gumshoe-level-difficulty to fall head first into its world of voodoo macabre and Dick Tracy private eye procedure. And gumshoe is a fitting word here; set in 1955, Rourke plays a Brooklyn-born gumshoe detective Harry Angel, hired by a creepy attorney (played by Robert De Niro) to track down Johnny Favourite, a musician who went missing back in '43. What meets Angel along the way includes dead bodies galore, exposed hearts (of the actual human organ kind), and several plot twists.
Not to boast or brag, but I called the end twist pretty early on, after some detective work of my own done as the story hurled forward. This isn't to say that I didn't enjoy Angel Heart, though; on the contrary, I loved it, and was constantly hooked. Which says loads about how writer/directo Alan Parker paces and shoots the thing, along with a crackerjack cinematographer on staff. This picture looks superb, rich with gritty New Orleans slums and water-drenched, lie-infested, seedy New York streets.
The anchor of it all is Rourke, who made Angel Heart during his early years of "could be the next Marlon Brando" raw greatness. A rugged, smooth-talking, fight-ready slob of a man, Angel knows he's being swept into something he's unprepared for, but he's a man who finishes every job he starts, and this Johnny Favourite case is no exception, even if the murders and hidden surfaces keep testing his nerve. All this is nailed by Rourke, with his magnetic machismo and grizzeled "cool." It's great to see him back in action these days, because films like Angel Heart show that he really is something special when on screen.
Can't discuss Angel Heart without turning the spotlight toward Lisa Bonet, of course. This was her first serious film role after The Cosby Show, and talk about a departure. She oozes sexuality here, specifically in a sweat-filled, steamy sex scene with Rourke that's punctuated by leaking water and blood pouring from the room's ceiling. To call the scene "wildly perverse" would be a beastly understatement.
She even makes chicken-slaying seductive, no matter if you're a breast or thigh guy (poultry sex humor, anyone?)
Angel Heart rarely receives the "remember that classic?" treatment, and having now rode shotgun with it, I'm seeing how much of a crime that is, the oversight. The influence this film must've had on the folks behind some of my favorite art entries speaks volumes t why I'm such a fan. Christopher Nolan's mindbender Memento has traces of the Heart, as does Dennis Lehane's rock-solid guessing game novel Shutter Island (my favorite book ever at this life junction).
If you've never seen this one, get on that. Soon. Especially if you're as partial to twisty, turny tales (alliteration strikes back) as one MBarone.
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