What should have been a fun exercise in self-referential humor for Eastwood and Reynolds disappears in a haze of jokes that fall flat, odd tonal shifts, and a hard-to-follow plot.
Coming out of the 1970s, you couldn’t find two bigger movie stars than Clint Eastwood and Burt Reynolds. Both actors were each riding a wave of success with their appearances in successful action movies like Every Which Way But Loose and Smokey and the Bandit. But as the mid-80s approached, both men had seen their fortunes dip a bit. Eastwood had a string of less-than-blockbuster films like Bronco Billy and Honkytonk Man but even his lesser films were moderately successful. Reynolds, however, had appeared in a series of disastrous box office blunders like Stroker Ace and Paternity. Pairing these two megastars together sounded like a surefire way to bring them back to box-office success. Unfortunately, City Heat was the wrong film at the wrong time.
The film takes place in 1930s Kansas City. Reynolds plays Mike Murphy, a former cop turned private detective, and Eastwood plays Lieutenant Speer, Murphy’s hard-nosed former partner who remains on the police force. When Murphy’s friend and current partner (Richard Roundtree) double-crosses a mob boss and winds up dead, Murphy and Speer end up investigating his death from different angles.
While the plot might sound like a serious suspense thriller, City Heat is anything but. The project started out as a comedy story by Blake Edwards, who was set to direct before a falling out with Eastwood. The movie took on a more convoluted direction with his replacements. Joseph C. Stinson was brought on board to revise the script and Richard Benjamin (The Money Pit) was hired to direct as both got along better with Eastwood. I don’t know to what extent they changed things but the tone is certainly not consistent and the story is a over-complicated mess.
City Heat was intended to parody old gumshoe flicks as well as the stereotypical action roles Eastwood and Reynolds had played in the past. However, Eastwood’s part resembles one of his traditional action outings. The only difference is that he occasionally delivers funny quips. Reynolds’ Murphy, however, comes off as an irresponsible moron. (For example, he inexplicably drives a convertible with the top down even in pouring rain.)
The teaming of Eastwood and Reynolds sounds great on paper but, for most of the film, their characters only occasionally cross paths and exchange verbal barbs before splitting up again. They don’t actually pair up until the movie is three quarters complete. And, even then, they share a limited number of scenes with one another. Sadly, there is a comedic spark between them. It never gets a chance to burn.
From a technical perspective, City Heat looks great. The sets are lavishly detailed and the cinematography is solid. Atmospherically, the movie at least looks like it’s set in the 1930s. Unfortunately, as soon as someone opens their mouth, the modern-sounding dialogue completely shatters that illusion.
Although the film features a stellar supporting cast — including Rip Torn, Madeline Kahn, and Tony Lo Bianco — they are all wasted in thankless bit parts. Jane Alexander shines as Murphy’s secretary, Addy, but even she is under-utilized. Irene Cara’s character feels as if she was shoe-horned in for no apparent reason.
What should have been a fun exercise in self-referential humor for Eastwood and Reynolds evaporates in a haze of jokes that fall flat, odd tonal shifts, and a hard-to-follow plot. City Heat is a total misfire.
1.5 out of 5.0 stars
