In 1998, the American Film institute put out a list of 100 movies simply titled 100 Years... 100 Movies. These are widely regarded as the 100 greatest American movies of all time, based on qualifications from critical recognition and overall popularity to cultural and historical significance. In short, a benchmark or bucket list for anyone who's even remotely serious about movie viewing.
When this list came out I'd already seen maybe half these movies but I've spent the following years working on the rest the same way I'd work on a dinner plate placed in front of me when I was a kid. I started with what looked the best (namely those Chaplin movies I haven't gotten around to yet) then struggle my way out through those bland, oddly-textured vegetables I've never really had the taste or tolerance for (namely any western starring John Wayne.) At this point in my life, it really comes down to whenever one of these escapees makes their way onto the Turner Classic Movies programming schedule and whether or not I remember to set the DVR.
While I haven't exactly fallen in love with everything on this list I still appreciate what I have seen, even if only for the nutritional content or push towards regularity an undercooked green bean or bubbly, yet highly-regarded musical can provide. But every once so often I come across a tasty and neglected morsel that for one reason or another didn't get mowed down with the sweet potato fries or that grass-fed beef burger topped chipotle cheddar cheese and guacamole.
You know how when you stack a burger with an abundance of monstrous tastiness, something's just bound to hit the plate before it ends up in your mouth? Maybe a thick corner from a slab of cheese, a nice big crisp piece of lettuce with a sloppy dollop of barbecue sauce or a tasty piece of greasy, chewy, transparent bacon?
That's what In the Heat of the Night is. A tasty little surprise you may not have thought to try.
In the Heat of the Night is a simple story but with an interesting twist. It starts off with the seemingly random murder of a wealthy Chicago industrialist in a small, racist, backwater, economically-depressed Mississippi town building a factory which could potentially bring the area back to life. Realizing the potential catastrophe his town faces, Police Chief Bill Gillespie (Rod Steiger in an Academy Award-winning role) orders all suspects rounded up (with some pressure from the mayor.) This happens to include Virgil Tibbs (played magnificently by Sidney Poitier), a black Philadelphia detective patiently waiting at the train station to get the hell out of the backwards hellhole when he's picked up by one of Gillespie's overeager deputies. After the verbal barrage of boahs and n-bombs is through and the local police department is made aware of Tibbs' identity and impressive credentials, his chief orders him to stick around and lend his extensive proficiency to the locals. Once the victim's widow threatens to cease all development and pull out of town unless Tibbs is part of the investigation, the continually compromised Gillespie has no choice but to work with the out of town investigator.
From here on in, In the Heat of the Night begins to take the shape of something we've seen dozens of times over, a mystery where cops work to solve a murder and catch their killer. But where this movie stands apart from other crime dramas (aside from its beautiful cinematography, Oscar-winning acting, editing and writing) is with its racially-charged slap in the face laid upon its audience's collective face. Almost immediately, Poitier's Tibbs shows up Gillespie and his barely ambulatory staff (who essentially just want a suspect, any suspect, locked up and the case closed as quickly as possible so they can get back to... whatever) with his brilliant detective skills. Things really escalate once Tibbs beautifully stands up to the town fatcat/number one suspect and this pot boiler of a situation heats up even more.
Part of In the Heat of the Night's greatness lies in the fact that despite Tibbs' facing of nearly unanimous adversity, any assistance he receives is done so reluctantly and not exactly offered intrinsically, he's not exactly perfect himself. He's an obvious argument against the local incompetence and ignorance to the point where he's willing to risk his own life to solve this case, even after Gillespie saves Tibbs from what promised to be a brutal if not fatal beating at the hands of some good ol' boys, then orders the outsider out of town. Tibbs is so built up that the movie actually earned the nickname Super-spade Versus the Rednecks. But regardless of all his would-be and realized heroics, when asked by Gillespie his reasons for wanting to solve the case so badly, Tibbs reveals his reasons to be personal and even slightly petty.
While In the Heat of the Night is a great movie its not exactly a perfect one. You'll rarely hear me complain about a Quincy Jones score (with the exception of 1971's The Anderson Tapes) but his orchestrations are a bit too smooth and hip for this awful setting. Even if its Tibb's theme music, for as great as it was it just didn't feel like it entirely fit. This and Ray Charles's gorgeous theme song felt a little out of place.
In the Heat of the Night was not only a comment on the then-growing Civil Rights Movement and race relations in general, but an overnight sucess that would spawn two sequels (1970's They Call Me Mister Tibbs! and 1971's The Organization) and win the Best Picture Oscar for 1967, beating out Bonnie and Clyde, The Graduate and another Poitier movie, Guess Who's Coming to Dinner. While the watermark for racial tension may not necessarily be as high (or as low) as it was in 1967 and In the Heat of the Night may arguably be a dated product of its time, it still an impressive, important and well-made movie that certainly deserves to be on a list of mandatory viewing or Movies Everyone Should See Before They Die.
When this list came out I'd already seen maybe half these movies but I've spent the following years working on the rest the same way I'd work on a dinner plate placed in front of me when I was a kid. I started with what looked the best (namely those Chaplin movies I haven't gotten around to yet) then struggle my way out through those bland, oddly-textured vegetables I've never really had the taste or tolerance for (namely any western starring John Wayne.) At this point in my life, it really comes down to whenever one of these escapees makes their way onto the Turner Classic Movies programming schedule and whether or not I remember to set the DVR.
While I haven't exactly fallen in love with everything on this list I still appreciate what I have seen, even if only for the nutritional content or push towards regularity an undercooked green bean or bubbly, yet highly-regarded musical can provide. But every once so often I come across a tasty and neglected morsel that for one reason or another didn't get mowed down with the sweet potato fries or that grass-fed beef burger topped chipotle cheddar cheese and guacamole.
You know how when you stack a burger with an abundance of monstrous tastiness, something's just bound to hit the plate before it ends up in your mouth? Maybe a thick corner from a slab of cheese, a nice big crisp piece of lettuce with a sloppy dollop of barbecue sauce or a tasty piece of greasy, chewy, transparent bacon?
That's what In the Heat of the Night is. A tasty little surprise you may not have thought to try.
In the Heat of the Night is a simple story but with an interesting twist. It starts off with the seemingly random murder of a wealthy Chicago industrialist in a small, racist, backwater, economically-depressed Mississippi town building a factory which could potentially bring the area back to life. Realizing the potential catastrophe his town faces, Police Chief Bill Gillespie (Rod Steiger in an Academy Award-winning role) orders all suspects rounded up (with some pressure from the mayor.) This happens to include Virgil Tibbs (played magnificently by Sidney Poitier), a black Philadelphia detective patiently waiting at the train station to get the hell out of the backwards hellhole when he's picked up by one of Gillespie's overeager deputies. After the verbal barrage of boahs and n-bombs is through and the local police department is made aware of Tibbs' identity and impressive credentials, his chief orders him to stick around and lend his extensive proficiency to the locals. Once the victim's widow threatens to cease all development and pull out of town unless Tibbs is part of the investigation, the continually compromised Gillespie has no choice but to work with the out of town investigator.
From here on in, In the Heat of the Night begins to take the shape of something we've seen dozens of times over, a mystery where cops work to solve a murder and catch their killer. But where this movie stands apart from other crime dramas (aside from its beautiful cinematography, Oscar-winning acting, editing and writing) is with its racially-charged slap in the face laid upon its audience's collective face. Almost immediately, Poitier's Tibbs shows up Gillespie and his barely ambulatory staff (who essentially just want a suspect, any suspect, locked up and the case closed as quickly as possible so they can get back to... whatever) with his brilliant detective skills. Things really escalate once Tibbs beautifully stands up to the town fatcat/number one suspect and this pot boiler of a situation heats up even more.
Part of In the Heat of the Night's greatness lies in the fact that despite Tibbs' facing of nearly unanimous adversity, any assistance he receives is done so reluctantly and not exactly offered intrinsically, he's not exactly perfect himself. He's an obvious argument against the local incompetence and ignorance to the point where he's willing to risk his own life to solve this case, even after Gillespie saves Tibbs from what promised to be a brutal if not fatal beating at the hands of some good ol' boys, then orders the outsider out of town. Tibbs is so built up that the movie actually earned the nickname Super-spade Versus the Rednecks. But regardless of all his would-be and realized heroics, when asked by Gillespie his reasons for wanting to solve the case so badly, Tibbs reveals his reasons to be personal and even slightly petty.
While In the Heat of the Night is a great movie its not exactly a perfect one. You'll rarely hear me complain about a Quincy Jones score (with the exception of 1971's The Anderson Tapes) but his orchestrations are a bit too smooth and hip for this awful setting. Even if its Tibb's theme music, for as great as it was it just didn't feel like it entirely fit. This and Ray Charles's gorgeous theme song felt a little out of place.
In the Heat of the Night was not only a comment on the then-growing Civil Rights Movement and race relations in general, but an overnight sucess that would spawn two sequels (1970's They Call Me Mister Tibbs! and 1971's The Organization) and win the Best Picture Oscar for 1967, beating out Bonnie and Clyde, The Graduate and another Poitier movie, Guess Who's Coming to Dinner. While the watermark for racial tension may not necessarily be as high (or as low) as it was in 1967 and In the Heat of the Night may arguably be a dated product of its time, it still an impressive, important and well-made movie that certainly deserves to be on a list of mandatory viewing or Movies Everyone Should See Before They Die.
-Mike
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