NYC in the Raw, Issue 5: BLUE STEEL (1990)
As I was compiling my initial list of NYC movies to talk about, I noticed that the films I had were lacking something – a female director. I knew of many women whose work I greatly admire but was striking out in terms of any of their filmography being shot, on location, in NYC, especially during the pre-Times Square clean-up/September 11th days that I was focused in on. Much to my delight, I finally landed upon a NYC flick from the early 90s that I had NEVER seen before. To sweeten the pot, this flick was directed by one of my favorite stylistic auteurs. Once I came upon this sleazy slice of a thriller, set in NYC, from 1990, I knew this was the film I had to cover. The biggest question, obviously, is if I was going to like the movie I landed upon. The film I speak of is the 1990 flick Blue Steel, directed by iconic filmmaker Kathryn Bigelow.
There may be nobody around who has a more rock-solid filmography from the late 80s to the mid 90s than Bigelow. In 1987, she brought us the slick vampire western Near Dark, with iconic turns from Lance Henriksen and Bill Paxton as members of a family of vampires roaming the country. In 1991, she delivered upon us what may be the apex of male machismo action flicks with Point Break. Keanu Reeves and Patrick Swayze may appear to be coded as straight in the movie, but there is enough subtext (as well as pure text) across the film to suggest this is truly a love story between Bodhi and Johnny. Finally, in 1995, Bigelow delivers what I feel is her masterpiece. Style for days, layers of true substance, politically heavy and beautifully wonderful masochistic view of the world – lensed through NYE in LA in 1999 – are all on display in her epic Strange Days. If you look closer, however, sandwiched in between Near Dark and Point Break, is where you will find Blue Steel, which is probably the more straightforward flick of this epic run, which is saying a lot considering the bat-shittery that is contained within its walls.
For those unfamiliar, Blue Steel focus on rookie NYPD officer Megan Turner’s (Jamie Lee Curtis) first night on the job. As she interrupts a robbery in progress at a local grocery store (with an early crazed, wild-eyed performance from a young Tom Sizemore), it ends in bloodshed as she guns down the robber as he attempted to swing his revolver to point in her direction. When all is said and done, we see that one of the witnesses at the scene decides to take the dropped revolver of the perpetrator and keep it for himself, removing evidence from the crime scene. When Megan is suspended due to excessive force (no gun = no motive for fire), this witness decides to interject himself into her life and begins a personal relationship with her while, at the same time, goes on a killing spree of his own, carving her name into the bullets used and making Megan’s life generally a living hell. To say that this movie goes off the rails once it gets going is the understatement of the year.
Oh, did I mention the bizarre, crazed, unhinged as hell witness is played by character actor and all around sleazeball Ron Silver? This is the film where Bigelow truly begins to hone her craft and solidify the look of a “Kathryn Bigelow” film. This consists of style for days, toxic masculinity, consistently engaging pacing and pure absurd plots to carry it along to the finish line. Blue Steel is 90s NYC sleaze in the ilk of filmmakers such as William Lustig and Larry Cohen, but with a studio budget and backing. Jamie Lee Curtis is at her sexiest, Ron Silver at his most slimy, and an early turn from Clancy Brown where he may be kinda, sorta… hot? The late sex scene between Curtis and Brown is one of the steamiest things I have seen in a major studio flick in a while, though I do think the ADR tech, who really upped the sound of wetness in this scene, either deserved a raise or questions into the state of their mind. This movie just continues to get more wild, crazy and unpredictable as it progresses to the finish line. When Curtis engages in a climatic shootout with an extremely sweaty and dirty Silver right in the middle of peak traffic on Wall St, I didn’t blink an eye at the absurdity of it all. There is truly not a dull moment in the exaggerated world of crime and passion that Bigelow has crafted for us, and the deft hand of her direction makes it all seem like high art.
The city of NYC is shot with a dirty lens of what lies underneath the sheen of the lively metropolis during the day. Stressed out stock market traders such as Ron Silver’s Eugene during the day can turn into psychotic privileged cis white maniacs at night. Copious amounts of primary colors litter various sequences – the opening grocery store shootout, the ending gun fight between Curtis and Silver in the Financial District – and the city, just like in Die Hard With a Vengeance, truly feels like a living breathing entity. If all the inane developments that occurred in this movie happened anywhere else but NYC, it just wouldn’t feel the same nor really work. Only my great city is worthy of housing the consistent madness on display. Despite loving this grimy flick, it’s not all sunshine and roses for Blue Steel. Unfortunately, we have a trio of actors who are painfully wasted with their presence. Elizabeth Pena, who has nothing to do but try and setup Curtis’s Megan occasionally and die as a means of stakes later in the film, Richard Jenkins as Silver’s equally slimy attorney who has all of two scenes of generic lawyer jargon and he is off to the side, and Kevin Dunn as the assistant chief of the NYPD who brings not much to the party as there is nothing on the script page for Dunn to even develop.
Despite these shortcomings, the movie delivers primarily on the perfection of Bigelow’s direction, Curtis’ committed performance, Clancy Brown’s smoldering detective and the all-time psychotic performances from perennial character actor Ron Silver. Blue Steel is a fun and wild thriller that is as implausible as it is beautifully shot. I do miss the days when Hollywood was spending the necessary money on these mid-tier thrillers that had sex, violence and plots that had no boundaries in terms of believability. It’s not the best of Bigelow’s oeuvre, but it is well worth your time seeking out this piece of 90s NYC grit.