Angel Heart
For three-quarters of its running time, Angel Heart is a first-rate neo-noir with occult trappings. The atmosphere is thick enough to choke on. The mystery deepens with each murder. You lean forward in your seat.
Then the ending arrives and you wonder if it was meant as a joke.
The setup is straightforward. The year is 1955. Mickey Rourke plays Harry Angel, a low-rent private eye hired by the mysterious Louis Cyphre to find a missing crooner. The trail leads to New Orleans. Bodies start piling up. Harry fears he’s being framed.
Director Alan Parker shoots in actual diners, dive bars, and juke joints populated with extras who look like they live there. Every building shows its age. Every location breathes. As Harry descends deeper into occult mystery, Rourke’s face tells the story without words. His clean shave becomes stubble. His slicked hair turns greasy and wild. His eyes grow haunted. The investigation unfolds with genuine dread.
But about that ending.
I’ve seen Angel Heart three times now, maybe four. Each time I forget the big twist. Not because it’s forgettable, but because it makes no sense. The film runs out of steam and wraps everything up with an exposition dump delivered at top volume. What had been quiet and atmospheric suddenly becomes talky and hysterical. Rourke runs around wide-eyed, shouting. Someone’s eyes glow—twice. The second time made me laugh out loud.
From the start, Robert De Niro’s scenery-chewing turn as Cyphre plays like it’s from a different movie—one approaching black comedy. It’s not a bad performance. The tonal clash even works for the character. But it proves the first hint the film doesn’t know where it’s going.
What a shame. Parker knows how to create atmosphere. He understands noir. He can build dread with the best of them. But somewhere along the way, he lost faith in his own trap.
What should feel inevitable instead feels illogical. To compensate, Parker resorts to shouting and special effects, pushing the finale into camp and rendering what should have been a punch to the gut more like a slap in the face.
Disappointing. The first ninety minutes deserved better.