Off-kilter, extremely quirky, cheerily violent, sexy when and where it counts, and just a ton of unexpected fun, the 1990 genre-skewing Miami Blues slipped in and out of theaters back in the day, grossing less than $10 million domestic, despite some strong reviews and a final package that constantly subverts our expectations for the milieu. Had this curiously strange movie been released now, I think it would have found a much more willing and appreciative audience. Originally a project for filmmaker Jonathan Demme (who would go on to produce), the film was adapted for the screen and directed by odd-ball-filmmaker specialist George Armitage (Grosse Pointe Blank, The Big Bounce, Vigilante Force) and was based on the novel by Charles Willeford, and centers on a deranged criminal named Fred Frenger “Junior” (Alec Baldwin in one of his loosest and most unpredictable performances), who upon being released from prison, jets down to Miami in search of a fresh start. However, immediately upon landing, he’s up to his old tricks again, never able to leave his past behind. He breaks the fingers of (and inadvertently kills) a pestering Hare Krishna, and from there, embarks on an increasingly violent crime spree involving hold-ups, random robberies, and lots and police impersonation so that he’s able to make off with big scores under the pretense that he’s a lawman. He meets a perky and naïve college student/prostitute named Susie (an extra cute and sassy Jennifer Jason Leigh), and a romance blossoms, despite Junior never fully exposing all of his secrets, and Susie becoming quickly attached both emotionally and physically. An aging cop named Moseley (a very funny and weathered Fred Ward) is on Junior’s trail, trying to put all of the pieces together in the wake of all of the madness that Junior is leaving behind. Moseley is in real trouble after Junior breaks into his place, assaults him, and steals his gun, badge, and dentures, which results in a film-long joke about Moseley’s teeth and gums and Junior’s enjoyment of flashing a real police badge that’s not his.
This is the sort of film that mixes comedy and violence in a unique way that produces a tone that’s hard to pin down. There’s an eccentricity to the material (thus luring the mind of Demme to the endeavor) that feels at odds with the demands of the studio thriller, so it’s not surprising to notice in retrospect that audiences were dismissive of it at the time of its initial release. Baldwin, who was hot off the success of The Hunt for the Red October with a tremendously appealing movie star performance, did a total 180 with his work in Miami Blues, balancing menace and sex appeal in a way that few others would have been able to pull off, resulting in a turn that feels alive and as different as anything he’s ever attempted. For her part, Leigh is all cutesy charm and innocent fun, and her frequent nudity felt bracing to witness given the relative prude qualities of today’s young starlets. Ward brought a grizzled manliness to the role of his “seen-too-much” cop, a guy with a set of false teeth but proper convictions. The snappy editing by Craig McKay allows the film to move at a brisk but never frenetic pace, while the cinematography by Tak Fujimoto opts for the gritty rather than the slick, with locale work also being a standout. The energetic musical score by David Chang rounds everything out. Shout! Factory has recently released a new Blu-ray of this forgotten about flick, and it’s one that’s definitely worth catching up with if you missed it 25 years ago.
Podcasting Them Softly 