Misunderstood Masterpieces: Red Heat

Posted by Will Helm on 02.01.2005

…or, The Governator’s Dirty Communist Secret

It’s doubtful that there is a more complex and famous American success story today than that of Arnold Schwarzenegger. Coming from rural Austria with a rudimentary grasp of the English language, Schwarzenegger dominated the sport of bodybuilding in the 1970s, becoming the sport’s most popular and famous competitor ever, much to the chagrin of luminaries such as Franco Columbu and Lou Ferrigno. In the 1977 bodybuilding documentary Pumping Iron, Schwarzenegger showed an unbelievable screen presence and a seemingly bottomless font of charisma; this, of course, translated into more feature-film opportunities in the following decades. I’m sure you know them all by now: the Conan franchise, the Terminator franchise, Predator, Total Recall, True Lies, etc. At the end of it all, Schwarzenegger had become an American icon; he was no longer the kid from backwoods Austria, but an American, a Kennedy – having married Maria Shriver in 1986, and a card-carrying Republican. His very American being came to fruition in 2003, when he was elected Governor of California, ousting recalled Governor Gray Davis.

Of course, no American success story is bereft of skeletons in the closet. For Arnold, there were suppositions of Nazi connections to his family and allegations of past sexual harassment. None of this comes close, however, to what we actually have documentary proof of: Arnold Schwarzenegger was once a COMMUNIST! Shocking, I know, but true! You see, it all stems from the Walter Hill-directed action flick Red Heat. Released in 1988, the meaning and timing of the film is quite curious; was it a paean to glasnost and the growing relationship between the United States and the Soviet Union? Or was there something far more complex and sinister going on? Perhaps we should look further into the situation, wouldn’t you say? And why do I ask so many damned rhetorical questions? Dammit.

In stately black-and-white Moscow . . . oh, wait. That’s not actually black-and-white; it’s just dreary. Ah . . . the grey dankness of Socialism. How expressive! Suddenly, in a furnace, color happens. It is the fire of the people! To heat the Turkish bath of the people! Which is merely an excuse to fill the first five minutes of the film with scantly clad, oiled men and totally nude women; it’s fun for all orientations. May the state bless the unclothed proletariat . . . and may the men’s loincloths stay firmly in place. I’m not in the mood for man junk, thank you. Out of one of the cavernous hallways of the bathhouse steps Arnold, wearing only said loincloth. And lots and lots of oil. I bet if you were to run him over, you could lube your car. Then again, he could survive it; he’s Arnold, you know. Actually, in this picture, he’s Ivan Danko, Captain in the Russian State Police. In the bathhouse, he’s looking for trouble and he finds it with some Samoan guy who puts a hot rock in Danko’s hand for some symbolic reason. I guess Danko reeked of bourgeoisie. It is the hot rock of the people! Danko responds by punching the Samoan guy out a window; Karl Marx would not be proud. Danko forcibly interrogates the Samoan, receives the information he needs, and exits the scene . . . wearing only a loincloth in the snow. Yeah . . . he’s a cyborg.

Meanwhile, elsewhere in lovely, dreary Moscow, someone lines a birdcage with a back issue of Pravda while soldiers march . . . and march . . . and march . . . and Karl Marx sits nearby, watching stoically. Mainly because he’d been dead for 105 years and a statue. Some undetermined time later, Danko and his partner chat about the drug trafficking plaguing the Union. After a bit of IMPORTANT PLOT POINT-laden banter, they go off on a mission together . . . to a dingy piano bar. OK then. Once Danko strolls dramatically inside the establishment, the patrons and workers are disconcerted. I’d be disconcerted too whenever Arnold walks by, honestly . . . he always seems to run into trouble. This time, it’s a horde of Georgian punks and construction workers, who he’s there to arrest. The Georgians get ticked off by Danko’s state-mandated activity, so Danko helps to coerce them by pummeling one of them . . . who just happens to have cocaine hidden in his artificial leg. Well, that’s inventive . . . and convenient to the plot. With the ruse now revealed, the Georgians pull their weapons and the ubiquitous gunfight breaks out. Under the cover of the firefight, one of the bad guys – Viktor Rostavili (the VERY Russian-named Ed O’Ross) – exits and climbs up a roof. Danko, since he is Moscow’s very own supercop, gives chase . . . and somehow ends up shooting Viktor’s brother to death. Meanwhile, perhaps in a moment of instantaneous karmic revenge, Viktor murders Danko’s nameless partner. Later, the police are saddened by the loss . . . so much so, in fact, that a Freddie Mercury impersonator plays the trumpet at the funeral. The chief, in chatting with Danko, reveals that Viktor has escaped to America and swears REVENGE! Ah . . . revenge. How I’ve missed you so. And I’ve missed you too, exposition. You’re like my bestest friends.

Elsewhere, in Chicago to be exact, there’s something bad going down . . . and Viktor is on hand to witness it all. Well, he’d be witnessing something if he weren’t in a phone booth talking with a courier in the next booth. After the conversation ceases, Viktor slips the courier ½ of a hundred dollar bill; ooh . . . how wonderfully underworld. It’s not like the two halves could be put together as incriminating pieces of evidence. Oh no. Not at all. Anyway, elsewhere in the Windy City, Chicago cops Art Ridzik (James Belushi), Charlie Stobbs (Lawrence “Larry” “Cowboy Curtis” “Morpheus” Fishburne), and No-Name Gallagher (Richard Bright) watch well-endowed hookers on a random street corner. Straight-laced Stobbs is not amused by Ridzik’s humor, so they go off to work instead of gawking any longer. And what does said work entail? Well, first they climb some stairs – and we learn that Ridzik is a cop on thin ice for undisclosed reasons – and they bust in on the courier and his buddies. Everything goes smoothly until some guy with a shotgun starts shooting up the place . . . and then he runs upstairs. Oh, for crying out loud. How many times do I have to say it? When you run upstairs . . . WHERE ARE YOU GOING TO GO FROM THERE?!? Sheesh. Actually, shotgun-man outsmarts me – difficult, I know – by ducking outside and running DOWN the fire escape . . . right into Ridzik, who calmly makes the arrest. Back in the phone booth, Viktor – who must’ve been there for a few hours – is annoyed for no particular reason. Other than, perhaps, the monkeywrench being thrown into his big deal. You’d think he’d be a little better with anger management. Oh well.

Back in Moscow, the Russian police get a telegram over the wire stating that Viktor is in Chicago . . . and then they make fun of stereotypical Chicago gangsters. Let’s see how funny they find it when their wearing cement shoes at the bottom of the Volga. Meanwhile, Danko chats with the vengeful chief, who gives our stoic, cybernetic officer his next assignment: go to Chicago and bring back Viktor! Like you didn’t see that coming already. Later, at O’Hare airport, Ridzik and Gallagher patiently await Danko’s arrival; once in Chicago, Danko resorts to monosyllabic conversation. Aww . . . he must be shy. Maybe they should take him to Chuck E. Cheese, just to cheer him up. Everyone loves singing robots and pizza . . . even Communists. Ridzik, since he’s the stereotypical loudmouthed, jaded American cop, mocks Danko; Danko, meanwhile, just wants to investigate the crime . . . and stay in Viktor’s hotel. Ridzik and Gallagher are put off, since Viktor has a room waiting for him at a nice hotel, paid for by the city, but Danko insists. Oh well; I guess the city of Chicago will save some money then. Good for them. The Daleys would be proud.

Once inside the hotel, Danko books Viktor’s old room . . . since Viktor is currently in the pokey for a traffic violation and weapons possession. Unsurprisingly, Danko begins his stay by flipping on the hotel’s television porn channel; instead of whipping out his little Lenin, Danko just insults luxury of capitalism. Well, I guess that’s foreplay for a Socialist. The next day, Arnold gets a tour of the police station and then he meets with Chief Peter Boyle! Rock on! Boyle, who is oddly obsessed with stress management, simply washes his hands of Viktor and says that Danko can take him back to Russia with no problems. After the brief meeting of minds, Danko, Ridzik, and Gallagher proceed to the city jail to pick up Viktor. Once there, Danko puts the cuffs and the hurt on Viktor and they all head toward the door. Meanwhile, a totally uninvolved and inconspicuous armored car drives up and a horde of security guards exit. Inside the jail, Ridzik roughs up Viktor a bit due to a little misunderstanding involving Ridzik’s lips and his mother’s derriere. Ridzik breaks off from the group to calm down a bit and pick up some coffee . . . which is a perfect opportunity for the mysterious security guards to ambush Danko and Gallagher! Dum-dum-DUM! Ridzik “runs” to the rescue – at least as fast as a Belushi can run – but Danko is barely conscious, Gallagher is dead, and Viktor has escaped. Wow . . . that’s like batting .000. At least Ridzik has a chance to tag one of the Russian accomplices before he escapes as well. Danko, meanwhile, before his incapacitation, crawls heroically and grabs a mysterious key from the floor.

Later, at a hospital, a pair of snippy Russian officials visit a concussed and recovering Danko . . . and they’re not happy. Then again, they’re Russian officials, so it’s doubtful if they’re ever happy. After they exit, Ridzik waltzes in and, in the few minutes interim, Danko has already gotten out of bed and dressed. Could he perhaps be MIRACULOUSLY UNHARMED? Or just a cyborg? Maybe we’ll find out later. As for now, Ridzik just wants some answers, but Danko isn’t particularly forthcoming. Ridzik, perhaps because he too wants REVENGE now, escorts Danko to the hotel and then to the precinct, where Chief Boyle, Stobbs, and Danko have a little chat. You know, one of these days, I’d love to make a movie with Laurence Fishburne and Samuel L. Jackson as crooked cops named Jackson and Fishburne respectively. Anyway, back at the police station, Stobbs, since it’s not stereotypical, is a condescending putz and Boyle is ticked off, so they both lecture Danko regarding his use of excessive force. Unsurprisingly, they decide to punish our protagonists by partnering them together. Ah . . . it’s always nice when the plot is helped along like that.

Elsewhere in the station, Danko and Ridzik interrogate some greasy guy (Brion James), who is decidedly mum about the situation at hand. Danko, bringing a bit of Russian flavor to the proceedings, gets a little rough with the greasy guy, so the greasy guy squeals like a pig. Or Ned Beatty. After the questioning, Danko and Ridzik argue the finer points of ethics and head over to the local prison. Once there, Ridzik describes the socio-economics of the prison clique system, which is pretty much the same as the plot for Oz. Danko, then, chats with a cool gang leader named Abdul (Brent Jennings), who I suppose is the Red Heat equivalent of Said. The only differences between Abdul and his Emerald City counterpart are that Abdul is a blind career criminal turned unbelievably cryptic Marxist drug pusher and Said is . . . umm, I didn’t really watch Oz, so I don’t know. But I don’t think he was blind. Anyway, after Abdul enlightens Danko as to what is really going on, Ridzik questions his impromptu partner about the meeting; Danko, unsurprisingly, as per usual, is silent on the matter. See . . . that’s good acting for Arnold: speak as little as possible and look REALLY imposing. Bravo.

In the car, Danko’s watch goes off, since it’s set to Russian time and it’s a notice to feed his parakeet. Upon learning this important bit of information, Ridzik questions Danko’s masculinity . . . until they get to Gina Gershon’s dance studio! So this is where she learned her part for Showgirls; go figure. It seems that, for some reason, they know that she knows Viktor, but she’s sassy, so she’s not talking. Danko, master manipulator that he is, guilt trips her into divulging her connection . . . she and Viktor are married! Dum-dum-DUM! After the shocking secret is revealed, Danko and Ridzik exit the scene, just so that they can stake out the place. Meanwhile, she watches them staking out her place, so she calls Viktor. Later, while Ridzik goes off to get some coffee and such, some crazy guy threatens Danko with automotive harm if he doesn’t move the car out of “his” parking space. Danko responds calmly by knocking the guy out with one punch. Ah . . . the beauty of Soviet efficiency.

After a few minutes of observation, Gershon leaves her pad and Danko and Ridzik give chase . . . and in the process Danko boils Ridzik’s testes with a cup of hot coffee. Oops. It’s OK, though; he can sue for that. Gershon gets into a taxi driven by the courier from the second act, since the pursuit is all a ruse, culminating at a squeaky-floored parking garage. Dane Cook would be proud. As we all can surmise, there’s an ambush ready to happen . . . and Ridzik figures it out about a second too late. Luckily, Abdul’s goons spare our heroes, but they do take Ridzik as a hostage. I bet he didn’t see that coming. Meanwhile, Danko wanders around and he comes face to face with Viktor. Instead of a fight to the death . . . they chat. Ah, how civilized. I bet next they’ll share some tea and scones. Gershon uses the opportunity to exit the scene; elsewhere, Viktor mumbles something or other to Danko . . . in broken, incomprehensible English. It seems that he wants the all important key; Danko, meanwhile, isn’t buying it, so no dice. Viktor, put out by Danko’s recalcitrance, skulks off dejectedly.

Later, in the car, Ridzik scolds Danko for some reason; it probably had to do with Abdul’s goons holding him at gunpoint, but I don’t quite remember. They then go to the hospital, to interview the Russian guy being held there. Unfortunately for them, some homely nurse kills him with a syringe just before they arrive. Ridzik and Danko chase the nurse, who ends the scene by unwisely shooting at Ridzik, allowing Danko the opportunity to blow away the nurse. The cross-dressing Russian nurse. Meanwhile, for some reason or other, Gershon was also there; she runs to the basement but finds herself trapped. Danko follows and . . . helps her leave? OK . . . I don’t get that one.

Later, Boyle visits Ridzik and Danko in the hospital because they’re in SERIOUS trouble. Ah . . . there’s nothing like the stereotypical cranky police chief. You’d think that the city would want to hire more even-keeled individuals, but I could be wrong. Boyle, wisely, confiscates Danko’s gun and then he orders Ridzik to fill out reams and reams of paperwork. Afterward, Ridzik is quite put out by the situation; he vents his frustration by giving Danko another gun, going to a diner to fill out the paperwork, and getting to know his Russian comrade. Exciting, huh? I bet you would’ve expected strippers. I guess we had our quota of nudity earlier in the film; oh well.

That night, Danko goes back to the hotel; he calls Gershon, who rats out Viktor in exchange for immunity. At the station, Ridzik is perturbed . . . and then his deadbeat brother-in-law calls him. Uh-oh . . . I hope this doesn’t evolve into a worthless subplot at this stage in the game. Luckily, it doesn’t as, back at the hotel, Viktor and Abdul’s goons watch Danko hide the magic key. Danko, unperturbed, takes a shower while Viktor and his ruffians knock out the desk clerk. Meanwhile, in one of the rooms, some chick watches fake People’s Court; Abdul’s goons unceremoniously bust in and shoot up the bathroom . . . from which a naked dead guy that is NOT Danko falls. Oops. Wisely, Viktor gets the key from Danko’s hiding place; meanwhile, Danko efficiently kills Abdul’s goons. The chick even kills one too, just for good measure. Elsewhere in the hotel, Viktor lies in wait for Danko to cross his path; Danko goes in search of his rival and the chick follows along . . . and doesn’t shut up! Ugh. What an annoying character. Seriously. Danko and Viktor hide from each other in a standoff . . . until Danko’s watch goes off and all hell breaks loose. Viktor unloads his weapons – missing every time – and then jumps out a window into the river to escape. I’m sure it’s balmy to him; Russia’s a cold place.

Later, the police investigate the multitude of homicides at the hotel, but they really have no idea exactly what’s going on. Meanwhile, we discover that Gershon is dead and Viktor is carefully fixing his wrist gun. Those two factoids aren’t really interrelated, but they’re still shown consecutively. Therefore, I just thought you should know. Anyway, Stobbs, since he’s condescending and elitist, puts Ridzik on desk duty and plans on sending Danko back to Russia; Ridzik, of course, is ticked . . . just like he always is. Perhaps he should be the one obsessed with stress management. Then again, it doesn’t help that the first person he visits is his ne’er do well ex-brother-in-law, who just happens to be a locksmith. Why is this important? Well, once at his former relative’s place of work, Ridzik and Danko find out the exact location of the lock that matches the mysterious key! Dum-dum-DUM!

At the bus terminal, where the lock is located, the courier from earlier in the picture gets a duffel full of cash from a locker. Viktor, since he’s involved in all of this too, shows up and, surprisingly, kills the courier dead. Moments later, just as they have at every other murder in the film, Ridzik and Danko show up at the terminal. Elsewhere, Viktor does a deal with a greasy pimp drug dealer guy; unfortunately for him, Ridzik and Danko actually successfully track him down. Wow . . . I think that’s the first thing they’ve done right in the whole film. Then again, if they did do everything correctly, this would be a very short movie. Speaking of which, once Ridzik and Danko corner Viktor, guns drawn, Ridzik and Danko end up arguing over who has jurisdiction: Chicago . . . or the Soviet Union. Danko points his gun at Ridzik to help convince his associate that the state has precedent over the municipality, but a bewildered old woman gets in the way, causing enough chaos to allow Viktor to escape. Again. Sheesh.

Of course, this escape is a bit more exciting, as Viktor steals a bus! Danko and Ridzik, their hostilities lessened almost instantaneously, respond by stealing a bus of their own and giving chase. Along the way, Danko accidentally drives over the fountain from the beginning of Married . . . with Children; somewhere, Al Bundy cries into his beer at the nudie bar. Later, they channel The French Connection – since every action movie has to take place in Chicago – and drive under the el, on the sidewalk, and through a building. The chase comes to a head when Viktor and Danko face off and play a game of chicken . . . in buses. Yeah. Things look bleak, but at the last second Ridzik swerves his bus and he and Danko crash their vehicle. Things aren’t so bright for Viktor, though, as his bus is broadsided by a train before he has a chance to celebrate his victory. Oops. Amazingly, Ridzik and Danko survive . . . but so does Viktor, since he’s the stereotypical villain that doesn’t seem to die for dramatic purposes. One of these days I’d actually like to see a villain that doesn’t get a second wind after a potentially fatal episode; a little variety never hurts, people. Of course, Viktor’s survival is all for naught, as Ridzik sends Danko off to get his revenge . . . and Danko unceremoniously shoots Viktor dead. Wow . . . that’s some TENSION there. Sometime later, at the airport, Ridzik and Danko watch baseball together; then they trade watches and become friends, until Danko takes the plane back to Moscow. As the plane taxis down the runway, one single tear streaks down Ridzik’s cheek; he’s never known love like this, and he probably never will again.

Just a note: some of that was completely made up. It’s up to you to figure out what it was.

So that’s Arnold Schwarzenegger’s dirty little secret: a dull, cliché-filled action flick. The funny thing about all of this is that I always thought that Red Heat was an action/comedy. Lo and behold, there’s absolutely nothing funny about it, except just how boring it is. And even that’s a stretch. It doesn’t help that it seemed that the Chicago police force was more bumbling and bureaucracy-choked than efficient. Perhaps this was all a secret Communist plot to make America seem overly complex in their decadence, while the Russians were secretly much more efficient and, therefore, superior. Honestly . . . who is the better cop: Ridzik or Danko? Not a good reflection on the American way of life, is it? And why are those damned rhetorical questions back again?

Join me next week when I know things will be much more exciting; it’s a movie regarded as one of the greatest of guilty pleasures. It’s guaranteed to be nice, until I decide to not be nice. See you then!
- - -
Hey friends, we here at 411Mania are trying to make this website the best it can be. In order to improve the site to your liking, go here and give us a hand. You know you want to.