I should have my head examined for sleeping on Mikey and Nicky for so long; it’s the exact flavor of old school indie cinema that I adore: scrappy, cynical, minimalistic, deeply personal, and aggressively ‘70s in its sensibilities. Whatever the film may lack in visual polish, it more than makes up for in sheer attitude. Elaine May’s directorial style is simple and rough around the edges, but also admirably unobtrusive, giving the actors plenty of room to breathe, experiment with the material, and thoroughly inhabit their complex characters.
And what marvelous performances they deliver! Peter Falk and John Cassavetes are perfectly cast as the eponymous odd couple; their believable chemistry and naturalistic improvisations lend the turbulent relationship around which the conflict revolves an air of authenticity. The narrative crackles with excruciating tension and urgency as our flawed, morally ambiguous protagonists bicker, reconcile, confront their mutual resentments, and ultimately resign themselves to their tragic fates.
Goes to show that you don’t really need an astronomical budget, gratuitous stunts, and spectacular special effects to craft a suspenseful thriller (or “dark comedy,” if you subscribe to conventional genre classifications)—just a solid script, a few buddies to bring it to life, and a camera to capture the magic. Hell, even lighting, ADR, pulling focus, and consistent continuity are of secondary concern.
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