mafatty79 at 2014-10-01 23:48:38:

Some movie scenes are iconic. This is one of them. Two of our greatest actors, each playing a brilliantly defined character, give us some fantastic dialog and acting. And Michael Mann - what can one say? It was absolutely brilliant not to have rehearsed this scene. This scene again reminds me about Scott’s question (posted somewhere) of the importance of asking what is it about characters in a scene that makes it absolutely imperative that what happens now has to happen now. Part of the reason the scene works so well is because both characters have, to this point, been so well defined. We know who each of these guys are. Each is highly effective at what they do and each is relentless, like a shark, at pursuing his goals. The scene reflects the yin and yang and the duality of life. In the end, both of these characters know that his individual existence is dependent on the existence of the other and that each is just a different side of the same coin. Each knows that who he is, as an individual - the being that he is in that moment, swimming around in this world - would not exist without the guy sitting across the table from him. Perhaps fate will allow them an out. The topic of “maybe we will never meet again” is broached at the end. Yet each seems to accept that ending is unlikely. There is a three act structure in this scene. The beginning, with references to San Quentin and McNeil and the question about wanting to be a penologist, shows that each knows a little about the other. Each understands that the other does what he does because he has to. It is who the guy is. It is his DNA. All the things that happened before in that person’s life brought him to this point. No self-reflection, it just is. The middle is the acceptance by each of who he as an individual is. Each man does what he has to do. Neither wants to change (because, I believe, each understands that desire would be futile). Neither seems to argue a moral, grand stand for who he is or that he is happy or that he would hold out his life as a model for anyone else. Each seems to accept that he just is. Which brings us to Scott’s interesting question of why Michael Mann included the dialog about each man’s dreams. Perhaps it was added to add a simple dash of humanity, of lost innocence, to the life of these men who on the surface appear to be automatons. Sharks. Highly effective but damaged men who relentlessly swim through life. Is Neil a sociopath or someone who is so repulsed by the hypocrisy of normal conventions that his dream is to get to an island where he can breathe clean air and read good books, to get to where he has to go? Hanna chose a different path. Perhaps when he was thirteen-years old he decided he’d fight the bully and try to make a difference. Yet, he long ago deduced that the evil is so deep that he probably never will be successful and that is why the dead people don’t talk to him. They are just there. But he will keep on doing what he does because it is who he is. And the third act is the acceptance of the other and the acknowledgment and understanding of what each man will have to do when the time comes. Again, the slight chance that fate will give them an out is raised, but each knows that bet probably won’t pay. We are taught that the core of great drama is conflict. And this is an iconic dramatic scene. But am I out of line here to suggest that there is very little conflict in this scene? I see exposition as artfully revealed as possible. We learn about these guys and, in the end, I think Hanna and Neil walked away learning a lot about his own self, perhaps even more than he learned about the other guy. For Michael Mann fans, I’d recommend the book “Screen Writers on Screen Writing”, by Joel Engel. It is a collection of interviews with some great screen writers, including a great interview with Michael Mann. In fact, in that interview Mr. Mann stresses that “drama is conflict,” so perhaps my rhetorical question above is off base. Nonetheless, conflict can be subtle, and if there is a lot of conflict in this scene, it is subtle indeed, and revealed with the brilliance use of subtext.

Kalen at 2014-10-02 01:27:18:

So glad this scene got posted. Heat is one of my top 10 favorite movies of all time. The score, ambiance and acting are like nothing I've ever seen. I remember watching this movie for the first time and feeling sucked into this perfect '90s storyline, witnessing this entire movie unfold with me as a bystander. Anytime a film can make you feel that, that seamless transportation from real life into a fantasy world -- that's how you know it's a classic. It's interesting... It seems like one of the taboos of screenwriting is two people just sitting around talking. People always advise to keep your scenes moving, to have your characters doing something. But think of how many classic scenes -- the best of all time -- are really just two people sitting around telling stories, having a conversation. I think there's something to be said about "timeouts" in movies. Often times we get so wrapped up in action that our brains tire and forget to rest. Sometimes a halftime or intermission can be really soothing to our minds. Maybe that's why we like this type of stuff so much: It gives us a chance to regain our strength, to hydrate and refuel for the inevitable climax. As for why the little vignette about dreams was included, I think it just made the conversation flow better. It was more ground for them to relate on. The more time we see these two engaged in a relaxing conversation the better. It also showed that, though these men appear to be fearless, they both really do have weaknesses and anxieties. Often times in life we connect best through our struggles. I think in this moment that's exactly what Mann was trying to do.