As a teenager I was a repeat viewer of a number of movies but, as an adult, I’ve kept rewatching limited to two or three viewings at most (unless it’s a holiday movie I watch with family).
But this summer I watched Michael Mann’s 2006 Miami Vice more than ten times. I had an obsessive need to spend time with the characters that I couldn’t explain. Ultimately, I came to the conclusion that Miami Vice is very sad; I’d experienced a number of losses in the last few years but hadn’t been able to really feel them. Sonny Crockett’s existential despair, soul mate level romance, and loss of his one true love Isabella hit all my sad spots and made me feel more grounded and alive than I had in a while.
It also restored my faith in the power of art, film, and storytelling. The majority of the work I do is nonfiction but Miami Vice reminds me that there are times when only fiction can heal those places I can’t otherwise touch.
If you’re curious about how I happened to watch this generally overlooked but cultishly revered action noir romance film, it was Bilge Ebiri of New York Magazine who reeled me in and the Miami Nice podcast that kept me hooked.
Leave a Reply