On July 4, 2024, film critic Brandon Streuessnig posted a movie clip on X (formerly Twitter) with the caption, āgf asked me to show her my favorite movie tonight. Probably the most important step in the relationship. No goin back now.ā The clip in question shows the opening moments of Michael Mannās 2006 action movie, Miami Vice, based on the ā80s television series that Mann produced. In it, immediately after the Universal Studios logo disappears, the Jay-Z verse from 2004ās rap/rock masterpiece āNumb/Encoreā needle-drops as the silhouette of a woman shimmies against a trippy background.
gf asked me to show her my favorite movie tonight. Probably the most important step in the relationship. No goin back now
— Brandon Streussnig (@BrndnStrssng) July 5, 2024
Itās a pretty wild clip, and when combined with Streuessnigās glowing words it ignited a firestorm of discourse about whether or not the film, which stars Colin Farrell and Jamie Foxx, was any good. Detractors said it was just another bro movie, dismissing it as fodder for straight men. Supporters, including our very own Carolyn Petit who has been singing Miami Viceās praises for years, said otherwise. But I had never seen it, so I sat down this weekend to watch it. And guess what? Miami Vice rules.
Watching the opening scene felt like someone broke into my house and stabbed me with a shot of adrenaline before I could even register what was going on. I leaned forward in my seat, absolutely flummoxed that āNumb/Encoreā was blasting through the sound bar, confused at the complete lack of a title card or opening credits. When Colin Farrell and his beautiful Balayaged hair swept into view, a small gasp left my lips. When he ordered two mojitos and proceeded to suck them down while hungrily staring at the bartender, I worried the look on my face betrayed my most impure thoughts.
Miami Vice is a hot movie, but itās so much more than that. Mann is uniquely capable of making a film that feels like it has both a huge dick and a huge heart. The fast cars, the preoccupation with tactile tech, and the long, lingering sex scenes could all push this movie into flatly masculine territory, but Mannās deft hand steadies it. The plot of Miami Vice follows two almost superhuman cops going undercover in a global drug-smuggling operation, but thatās not what this movie is about.
Miami Vice is about love. Itās about loving the right person at the wrong time, and about how clinging to that love could destroy you. Itās about the illogical nature of love, about falling for someone so immediately and intensely that it intoxicates you, your head swimming like you had too many mojitos, the two of you incapable of keeping your hands to yourselves because touching each other is like taking another shot of liquor.
It happens so fast: Farrellās Sonny Crockett asks to take Gong Liās Isabella (the financial advisor for the global drug-smuggling ring) for a drink and before you know it, the two are racing across the open ocean on a speedboat, headed to Havana, where they disappear for a few days, falling into each other and out of everything else. They salsa dance, they fuck in the shower, they trade deeply personal stories, they entwineāall while Sonny is undercover, all while the sting is still ongoing. Periodic shots of darkening clouds, bolts of lightning, and rough ocean waters warn us of how dangerous their dalliance isābut the viewer, like Sonny and Isabella, doesnāt care. YouĀ donāt have time to.
Miami Vice moves at breakneck speed (so much so I was often confused about what was happening and almost delirious from it), recreating the feeling of falling hard for someone youāve just met. It sweeps you up in that love, so you yourself feel just as crazy as Sonny, just as willing to put yourself in danger for something that moves you so intensely. How can a movie that manages that not be considered an all-timer?
