3 out of 5

Directed by: Alan Parker

I recognize that we all have to start somewhere, with any medium, any genre, etc. Whenever I hit against something that feels especially derivative, I try to remind myself of that: that this take on X might’ve been someone’s first, and if so, is it a good example?

Not that Angel Heart is really derivative, but it does crawl through some “of its time” vibes, requiring me to cast my viewing self back to 1987. …Would I have been more caught up in the movie then? Would its twist have felt more twisty? Would I have thought Mickey Rourke was cool? I did initially watch the movie closer to that time, but I wasn’t focused: I was a pervy youth, watching the late night HBO movies that had nudity in them. And then maybe a decade later, as a more, ahem, serious film goer, I knew the movie had a cult reputation, and I was on a journey to watch all the vids at my rental store in alphabetical order, so it got another viewing.

Neither pervy me or the astute film jerk seems to remember much about the movie; for example – that it’s set in the 50s. How do I not remember that? But in my current era, as some kind of wizened watcher, I’m apt to consider that lack of imprint as indicative of the film’s flaws.

1950s New York; PI Harry Angel (Rourke) is connected with a man named Louis Cyphre (Robert De Niro), who’s contracting Mr. Angel to track down an old associate – a singer named Johnny Famous. Cyphre would do it himself, but he already ran into some resistance at a hospital where Johnny stayed, and maybe Harry has some better methods. It’s definitely an off arrangement from the start, but it pays well; the investigation soon takes Harry to New Orleans, following a wayward line towards voodoo practitioner Epiphany (Lisa Bonet), the daughter of Famous.

Dead bodies start to show up in Harry’s investigatory wake, causing the police to get on his tail. Regardless, Cyphre presses him onward to find Johnny…

Adapting a surreal, patchwork editing style, director Alan Parker, editor Gerry Hambling, DP Michael Seresin, and composer Trevor Jones give Angel Heart an absolutely distinct look and feel. There are frequent cutaways to repeated visuals – such as a fan turning, slowly – that not only assist the tone, but begin to piece together into the background of the Johnny Famous mystery; Jones’ score is constantly scuttling and snaking with odd sounds, breaking out into occasional anarchic jazz when there’s a chase, or when Harry’s memories seemingly fracture into sudden flashes of violence. Everything is wet and hot in Angel Heart, steeped in cold blues or hot yellows, and every character looks absolutely drenched in sweat. You can… smell it.

The story is interesting, but clunky at the edges. This is along the lines of the derivativeness I started with: the way the movie uses voodoo as a shorthand for creepiness feels a bit lazy, especially with the briefest flash of commentary comparing the tradition to the bluster of a local fair, or to Catholic traditions; we’re otherwise just kind of reveling in it being the South, and there are chicken sacrifices. It’s a very 80s thing (or maybe an always thing, but especially prevalent in this and the next decade) to want to be two things at once: steeped in genre cliche the audience will “get,” and to try to be above it at the same time.

There are twists that I won’t spoil, but I don’t know what to do with them. The better one is somewhat ruined for me by Rourke – I’ll get to him in a minute – and the other one is just too dumb, and also feels like a lazy way to just make things weird. And I get that a lot of this is from the source book on which the movie is based – Fallen Angel by William Hjortsberg – but there would be / should be more convincing ways to translate the material. That said, I do like the attempted smash up of a detective procedural with some weirder elements, and I think Angel Heart’s overall pace is pretty expertly done, taking us through the step by steps in a way that tells us Harry is good at his job, and fracturing the What We Know slowly.

Overall, I think I would’ve had a lot more success with someone besides Rourke in the role. I’m not sure what the intention was of dressing Rourke in ill-fitting clothing the whole time, but he never quite looks like he fits in the era. And his hairstyle, while intending to look sweaty, instead looks like a cool-guy model mop of wetted hair. There’s maybe a read that he’s supposed to look kind of out of time – it thematically fits – but I can’t get with it. His acting shtick reads the lines of a pulp detective with just a bit too much winking; combine this with his look, and it ends up feeling like Rourke didn’t really commit to the role needed, but instead what he felt the role should be – which was kind of, like, a cool guy. On the other end of the spectrum we have De Niro’s Louis Cyphre, who also ends up feeling miscast, half-committing to a role that needed more sinisterness – or more something – and is instead just flat. Lisa Bonet is actually amazing, nailing some subtle humanities with her relatively small role; it’s too bad the movie kind of just flaunts her as eye candy for long portions, though, again, there’s maybe a read here where the gross maleness of the movie (Should Rourke sleep with a 17 year old? Heck yeah, bro! Awesome!!) is also purposeful, but I’m not sure I buy that.

I get why I didn’t remember much about Angel Heart. I sat for a while, trying to figure out how I felt about it, and during less analytical times, the need to do that would’ve equated to me forgetting about the movie pretty easily. It’s absolutely visually striking, and that does carry it incredibly far – you can sink into its visual (and aural) language, and have fun following along on a weird, grimy mystery. But if I’m trying to get invested in the deeper layers of the story, its indulgences – and the discrepant acting style of its lead – throws me right out of the thing.