They will walk away and you will let them

“Let’s say it’s true, every child is special. What about every adult? Isn’t every adult special too? And if not, at what age do you go from being special, to being not so special? And if every adult is special, then that means we’re all special and the whole idea loses all its fucking meaning.”

- George Carlin: It’s Bad for Ya

A standard childhood experience is being told that you are special, unique, or similar to a snowflake in your construction.

If that is so, then why is it that certain notions resonate with everyone?

Is it that as adults, we all have the same problems? Are certain issues universal to the human condition? Or, is uniqueness simply a contrived, wishful idea for the masses?

Could it be something else?

Could it be that the opposite is true, and that the idea of uniqueness masks a more profound truth?

What if there was someone just like you, and you met them, face to face?

When you meet someone just like you, rather than feeling disturbed, or crushed at the loss of your uniqueness, it has a profound effect. It’s invigorating - knowing that someone else sees the world the same way that you do. You realize that hidden among billions of ‘individuals’, someone else on this planet echoes your sentiments, feels the way you feel, and empathizes with your situation.

Maybe you are not alone in your thoughts.

This notion is a key point in how Heat departs from expected genre conventions and becomes something much more profound. While we may not be aware of this on the surface, the fuse is lit in our subconscious during the ‘abandoned score’.

“They will walk away and you will let them”

We observe a dream-like zoom as a van navigates the back alleys of nighttime LA. While this is film-making shorthand for establishing location, it shows deeper themes.

The shot is reminiscent of the opening scene in David Lynch’s Blue Velvet.

In Lynch’s film, we start with a dream-like glide across the white picket fences of suburban America. Then, we descend into the undergrowth, amongst insects feasting on one another in the darkness.

The same effect and meaning are captured here. We go beyond the “iridescent algae”- like vista of Los Angeles, and delve into its dark, criminal underworld.

We see the world within the world, and the reality that lies beyond the façade of normality.

While watching the break in, we see that Hanna is drawn to McCauley. Like a boxer recognizing fighting skill in a person’s economy of motion, Hanna sees the skill in McCauley’s economy of thought. The action in this scene is minimal, but the revealing of character is substantial. What begins as a tense surveillance operation, turns into a demonstration of McCauley’s modus operandi, and signals the awakening of Hanna’s raison d’etre.

Replicating the events that occurred in the real-life case, McCauley is alerted to a hidden presence in the midst of the job.

McCauley’s swift reaction demonstrates his tight mental processing. In analyzing his actions, we gain tangible insight into his character:

• It’s security before success: we see McCauley living by his 30 second rule – he spots the “heat around the corner” and chooses to drop the job.

• It’s code before coin: we see how McCauley is not swayed by the lure of money or proximity to success, demonstrated by his order “We walk. Now!”

• It’s criminal thinking cop: we see McCauley’s understanding of the limitations inherent within police procedure. A more opportunistic criminal would panic upon being discovered, and even open fire in an attempt to escape. In McCauley’s case however, he knows that if they take nothing, the lesser charge of breaking and entering is a waste of police resources. This is demonstrated by Hanna’s explanation:

Vincent Hanna: “What are you going to take them on? Breaking and entering? They didn't steal anything, don't you get it? It gets knocked back to some chicken shit misdemeanor they do six months and they’re out, no fucking way.”

Hanna’s realization of McCauley’s ability, is where the dynamic of the film begins to change.

During the surveillance operation, Hanna stares at his target through a night vision camera.

The silence of the scene evokes the feeling of a slow reveal. Looking at McCauley in bleached-out, black and white, we see a realization dawn.

Within that one shot, Hanna goes from looking at prey, to looking at his reflection.

It’s an inversion of his character. This is someone who is equally obsessed with their craft and lives far beyond the boundaries of the normal world.

As discussed in part 3, while Hanna’s life is an unsalvageable “disaster zone”, what brings this burnt-out husk back to life is meeting his equal in McCauley. Real recognizes real - the signals perceptible only to expert eyes, lead to a begrudging respect between masters.

Here, we enter new territory, which separates Hanna and McCauley from those around them – They exist on a separate plane within this hidden world, occupied by the very, very few. We go beyond the urges of getting rich, or of making a name for oneself. This is a world of obsession, of an out of control need for control, and of self-destruction in an attempt to gain the ungainable.

This is demonstrated on both sides.

Hanna overrules his squabbling colleagues:

Captain Connor: I’m not taking the heat from my bosses because you let them go. They’re not walking.”

Vincent Hanna: “That's exactly what they're gonna do, they're gonna walk. This is my operation, I have tactical command that supersedes your rank, they will walk away and you will let them.”

McCauley echoes the same:

Neil McCauley: “We walk.”

Chris Chiherlis: “I’m right there”

Neil McCauley: “We walk. Now!”

In contrast to the over-eager manner of their cohorts, Hanna and McCauley look past the smaller prey, focusing instead on the bigger prize.

Hanna’s order to stand down shows acute insight into McCauley’s mind, and also reveals his own inner workings. This is not a straightforward bust; Hanna knows that McCauley has the skillset for much larger scores. With that comes the potential for creating his preferred reality, an abyss that he can throw himself into.

During the initial crime scene investigation, Hanna’s curiosity was piqued. In seeing McCauley in action however, it has awoken his raison d’etre. In comparing the two here, we can see the deeper meaning: McCauley uses disguises to blend in during scores, whereas Hanna wears a disguise to blend in to society. Both wear suits, but for different reasons.

When Hanna gives the order to stand down, essentially letting a crime slide, his team cannot see the method to his madness. This is also echoed in McCauley’s decision to walk away from the job, his words being met with bewilderment by Chiherlis. Both examples highlight the level at which these two men operate. Ironically, the only person that could possibly understand this mindset is the opponent that it’s aimed at.

In seeing his qualities echoed in McCauley, Hanna has found the perfect opponent, himself.