Sep 261981
 

Resurrecting the genre, Body Heat took Noir style and mood, and brought it up to date. Without the censors, it could express what the earlier films had to hide: sexuality and unpunished immorality. Its rich reds and sickly yellows portrayed corruption better than the silver screen ever managed.

Directed by: Lawrence Kasdan
Written by: Lawrence Kasdan
Produced by: Fred T. Gallo
The Ladd Company/Warner Brothers, 1981
Runtime: 113 min
Cast: Ned Racine (William Hurt), Matty Walker (Kathleen Turner), Edmund Walker (Richard Crenna), Peter Lowenstein (Ted Danson), Oscar Grace (J.A. Preston), Teddy Lewis (Mickey Rourke), Mary Ann (Kim Zimmer), Stella (Jane Hallaren), Roz Kraft (Lanna Saunders), Heather Kraft (Carola McGuinness), Miles Hardin (Michael Ryan)

A Few Thoughts

When it’s hot, really hot, people act differently because they see it as emergency time, and the rules don’t apply. That’s what police detective Oscar Grace tells us and that explains Body Heat. It’s a good title as no other film has come close to the feeling of obsessive heat. Everyone sweats in a world of rich orange-red nights and glaring white-yellow days. For two hours, the characters are living as if it’s an emergency, as if it’s a special time outside of the norm and they can do things they would not typically do. Heat also refers to sexual need and action, and that is also in abundance. In this setting writer/director Lawrence Kasdan (screenwriter for The Empire Strikes Back and Raiders of the Lost Arc) revives Film Noir with the story of incompetent lawyer Ned Racine (William Hurt) and sexy, femme fatal, Matty Walker (Kathleen Turner in her first role). Kasdan borrowed heavily from Double Indemnity. For most of the film, the story barely divergences from the 40s version. Ned is seduced by Matty, and the two plan to murder her husband. Sound familiar? While in the earlier film, Walter had investigator friend Keyes, Ned has two characters fulfilling that role, DA Peter Lowenstein (Ted Danson in a performance that would seem impossible to anyone who only knows him from Cheers) and detective Grace (J.A. Preston). Like Double Indemnity, it is Ned’s friends who are searching to solve the crime Ned doesn’t want solved. Almost every element in Double Indemnity can be mapped onto Body Heat. Instead of an insurance policy that pays double, there is an incorrectly written will that doubles the take. Instead of a loudmouth witness, it’s a little girl, and in both films the protagonist has to walk by the witness as a demonstration of his innocence.

Not that Body Heat is a remake of Double Indemnity. The plots diverge at the end, as Body Heat has several extra twists. But the real difference is in theme and mood. Double Indemnity is a psudo-comedy where the question is why these two people who show no signs of liking each other would murder someone. Body Heat is not a comedy. It’s an erotic drama. And there is no question of why Ned and Matty do what they do. With Double Indemnity, I shake my head and smile watching Fred MacMurry’s Walter Neff take ridiculous actions I would never dream of taking. But with Body Heat, I understand why Ned is willing to kill for Matty. I can feel myself in his place, in the heat inspired crisis time, with the beautiful siren of Matty singing me toward murder, and I wonder what I would do.

Ned is our entrance into this world. He’s not a bad man, nor a stupid one. He’s just not heroic or particularly smart. He barely gets by as a low budget lawyer. He hangs out at the local diner with his slightly more ambitious friends and spends his evenings using clichéd lines to pick up one-night stands and is fairly successful at that. In lesser hands, Ned would have been an annoying fool, but Hurt gives him enough heart, and a touch of hidden strength (well hidden)  to make him likable. Matty is never really likeable, but Turner instills pure sexuality into her, so who cares if she’s likeable. Ned is enthralled by her, and so am I. And even without lust, it’s hard to dislike Matty. Sure, she’s controlling Ned (a fact that Ned can’t see) to murder her malignant husband, Edmund (Richard Crenna). And yes, she’s doing it for the money. But after she uses her body to keep vicious Edmund Walker from discovering Ned, I feel like she’s earned it.

Edmund tells Ned that there are two types of people in the world, those who do what’s necessary, and the others. Ned admits that he’s of the latter type. Edmund and Matty are of the first type. In Edmund, that produces a thoroughly despicable man, while in Matty, it is almost admirable. Almost.

Kasdan structures Body Heat perfectly. At the moment when I want to yell at Ned that he just isn’t thinking, arsonist client Teddy (Mickey Rourke in his best performance) does it for me. Using the same words Ned had once said to him, Teddy advises Ned not to commit a crime because he’s no genius. Yup.

As for the sex, it couldn’t be better. Hurt and Turner deliver believable passion and, what is so rare, joy. Matty isn’t the ice-queen from Double Indemnity. Sometimes, she’s hard and distant and closed, but when it counts, when she and Ned are standing in front of the window between sexual sessions, she’s happy and loving and it shows. That makes Body Heat far more intriguing than its predecessors.

Why is it Important?

Film Noir, as a serious genre was born in the 40s and died in the 40s. By the 50s all that was left were copies and parodies. Some of those parodies, like Sunset Blvd. or Fred Astaire’s gangster dance in The Band Wagon, were excellent. Most were horrid. From there it only went downhill. Oh, there were plenty of fun Noir moments, often presented by Bugs Bunny, but nothing that wasn’t poking fun at the past. The only memorable Noir film between Touch of Evil and Body Heat was Chinatown in 1974, but it was a solitary moment that flared and passed.

Then Body Heat came and resurrected the genre. It took the style, and the mood, and updated everything. Without the censors, it could express what the earlier films had to hide: the sexuality inherent in the genre, and the rejection of the claim that immorality had to be punished. It destroyed the notion that only b&w could properly display the gritty Noir world. Body Heat’s rich reds and sickly yellows portrayed corruption better than the silver screen ever managed. Color was never a problem, only using color incorrectly, and Body Heat showed how it should be done.

After Body Heat came a string of excellent Noir films. Blade Runner, The Usual Suspects, L.A. Confidential, and Dark City would never have been made without Body Heat. It even managed to raise the status of the classic Noirs. Only The Maltese Falcon has had a greater effect on the development of film.

The DVD

This is a perfectly respectable DVD. The picture looks good, but less than perfect. It’s a bit hazy and grainy, but that doesn’t distract from the film. Occasionally, the daylight scenes are a bit too bright and washed-out. This is nitpicking. Buy the disc. You’ll be happy with it. It even has a full-screen version, which I may get around to watching some time.