Tell Us How You Really Feel: Kiss of Death Edition
As Clothes On Film observes: lots of silk shirts in this movie. Classy.
There’s very little to say about this movie, but I’m going to do my best.
In this fine specimen of a crime flick, Nic Cage plays Little Junior, the son of Big Junior, who is a shadowy criminal-type figure. They seem to deal in stolen goods, cars, and computers. They also have lots of coke and a strip club.
Anyway, one of Little Junior’s endless underlings is a ginger creep played to perfection by Michael Rapaport. Rapaport’s sleaze drags his cousin, David Caruso, back into The Life for one last job, I need ya cuz, they gonna break mah fingers, ain’t we blood, etc. You all know how these stories go. And so Horatio goes, and everything gets all fucked up.
Of course, Caruso and Helen Hunt as his devoted wife have already established that they’re sober and redeemed for their baby daughter in the previous scene. It takes Caruso about three hours total to fully unravel the lives they’ve apparently been working for years to repair. Nice, asshole. Real nice.
Anyway, some drunk dude fires a shot, it hits Sam L. Jackson (non-fatally) in the face, and Caruso gets beat up by the cops a bunch for it, then he goes to jail. Caruso gets out really early in exchange for being an informant, so he’s stuck hanging around trying to gain Little Junior’s trust so he can help bust this coked out wild-card new guy from Philly (Nic Cage, stop besmirching our hometown) called Omar, played by Ving Rhames.
Then, the on-screen love affair of 1995 happens. The brief but poignant passion of Little Junior and Caruso’s character is everything to this movie.