Sure James Cagney, as the psychotic Cody Jarrett (a regular, little momma's boy and migraine-headache victim), may have been "On top of the world!" in terms of his own overall exhilaration - Yeah. That he may have been - But, for me, while watching White Heat, I certainly wasn't anywhere near that level of nirvana, myself - No. Not by a long shot.
Over the years I have been told, time and again, that White Heat was, in fact, a true "Classic" of 1940s Crime films. Well, in my opinion, the only way that I could ever call White Heat a "Classic" would be solely in terms of its disappointment factor. I mean, to be fair, White Heat wasn't awful, but, then again, by the same token, it sure didn't live up to its "so-called" legendary reputation, either.
For one thing - White Heat was way-way too long for my liking. About a good half an hour could've easily been trimmed from its running time. Yeah. That whole inexplicable focus on Cody's stay in prison became totally tedious beyond words.
Another disappointment in White Heat was Cagney's less-than-electrifying performance as the psychotic suck, Cody Jarrett. I mean - A few face-slaps here, a couple of "Shuddups!" there, some agonized head-holding, and a string of predictable wisecracks certainly didn't add up to a very interesting character, in my books.
Cagney was 50 at the time of this film, and if his character was really supposed to be this insanely devoted momma's boy that he was, then I could never-ever, in a zillion years, be convinced that he could've ever landed himself such a hot, young and (fairly) understanding wife like Verna (even if she was just two-faced white-trash). No way, Jose. Like, please spare me having to suspend disbelief about Cody by that much. OK?
All-in-all - White Heat was mediocre movie-entertainment. Like - C'mon, all you vintage movie fans out there - Let's face it - There are, by far, so many other 40s Crime films out there that can, and do, surpass this one by a literal country mile.
Over the years I have been told, time and again, that White Heat was, in fact, a true "Classic" of 1940s Crime films. Well, in my opinion, the only way that I could ever call White Heat a "Classic" would be solely in terms of its disappointment factor. I mean, to be fair, White Heat wasn't awful, but, then again, by the same token, it sure didn't live up to its "so-called" legendary reputation, either.
For one thing - White Heat was way-way too long for my liking. About a good half an hour could've easily been trimmed from its running time. Yeah. That whole inexplicable focus on Cody's stay in prison became totally tedious beyond words.
Another disappointment in White Heat was Cagney's less-than-electrifying performance as the psychotic suck, Cody Jarrett. I mean - A few face-slaps here, a couple of "Shuddups!" there, some agonized head-holding, and a string of predictable wisecracks certainly didn't add up to a very interesting character, in my books.
Cagney was 50 at the time of this film, and if his character was really supposed to be this insanely devoted momma's boy that he was, then I could never-ever, in a zillion years, be convinced that he could've ever landed himself such a hot, young and (fairly) understanding wife like Verna (even if she was just two-faced white-trash). No way, Jose. Like, please spare me having to suspend disbelief about Cody by that much. OK?
All-in-all - White Heat was mediocre movie-entertainment. Like - C'mon, all you vintage movie fans out there - Let's face it - There are, by far, so many other 40s Crime films out there that can, and do, surpass this one by a literal country mile.