C&C 59: Mike’s Murder at CrimeReads

A look back at James Bridges’ true-crime inspired film, plus recommendations

Now at CrimeReads: my feature story on Mike’s Murder (1984), a film that has haunted me for years, and which has a history far more tortured than I ever suspected.

James Bridges’ movie—about a carefree bank teller (Debra Winger) whose curiosity about the brutal death of an on-again/off-again paramour puts her in jeopardy—unquestionably belongs on any list of definitive Los Angeles cinema, given its unerring instincts for the city’s roving rhythms. Writer/director Bridges was then riding high on the strength of The China Syndrome (1979) and Urban Cowboy (1982), although for me he will always be the screenwriter of Colossus: The Forbin Project (1970). When I settled in to watch the film for the first time over a decade ago, I knew the broad outlines of its checkered post-production saga along with the fact that a few critics raved about the misbegotten version ultimately tossed into theaters. By the time it ended, I knew that I was a paid-up member of that cult following, and that Winger’s performance was one of the best I’d ever seen.

In the year of its fortieth anniversary, I wanted to pay tribute to Mike’s Murder. Digging deep, I was astonished to discover, among other facts:

• The movie was inspired by the real-life murder of the former lover of an Academy Award-nominated actor;

• Playing the character based on that Academy Award-nominated actor was … that Academy Award-nominated actor;

• You can release a soundtrack album full of songs that don’t appear in the movie.

The entire saga is fascinating, yet the movie that resulted, even in compromised form, is better. Sure, it’s a glorious 1980s time capsule, replete with handheld videogames, enormous answering machines, and punk rockers. It’s also an impressively forward-thinking film for its era about sexuality, particularly in regard to the LGBTQIA+ community. Above all, it’s a moving exploration of the primal need to connect, never more so than in a city that seems hellbent on keeping people apart.

Mike’s Murder, for a long time only available on a Warner Archive DVD, is now streaming on Amazon and a few other outlets. It’s about time; the movie deserves an audience. Read about how it came to be at CrimeReads, then watch it for yourself.

What I’m Watching

Emilia Pérez (2024, Netflix). I went into this movie with some skepticism. A musical about a cartel kingpin who transitions? But Jacques Audiard (Read My Lips, A Prophet), who originally conceived of the story as an opera, tells it with the bold beats of that form, seasoned with a soupçon of telenovela. Anchored by a trio of powerhouse performances that collectively won the Best Actress award at this year’s Cannes Film Festival from Karla Sofía Gascón, a captivating Zoë Saldaña, and Selena Gomez, whose numbers are all intriguingly mediated on various screens.

A Real Pain (2024, in theaters). Two cousins, now at a remove (writer/director Jesse Eisenberg and a never-better Kieran Culkin), reunite after their grandmother’s death for a tour of her Polish homeland. An incredibly rich film, one of the year’s best, tackling many potent themes without skimping on laughs in a mere ninety minutes.

Yacht Rock: A Dockumentary (2024, HBO). Who knew how essential jazz was to this roundly mocked yet ubiquitous—and damn good—genre of music? Or about the secret connection between Handel and the Doobie Brothers? And how is it possible that Michael McDonald, whose golden tones are all over these songs, is such a humble, good-natured dude? This highly-entertaining film depicts how the rise of MTV torpedoed many a yacht rocker’s career, but in the New York Times Ben Sisario explores how some of their contemporaries corrected course.