By most accounts, Clint Eastwood hijacked his long-awaited teaming with fellow superstar Burt Reynolds and the credits bear this out. After showing writer-director Blake Edwards the door, Eastwood recruited the more malleable Richard Benjamin to direct (in his autobiography, Reynolds said Benjamin was "terrified" of Eastwood), ordered Edwards' script be given a rewrite by Joseph Stinson whose only other credit was the previous year's Dirty Harry film, "Sudden Impact," brought in key players from his Malpaso crew (notably Fritz Manes as producer and Lennie Niehaus as composer), and even dumped Edwards' title, "Kansas City Jazz," in favor of the equally imaginative (I'm kidding) "City Heat."
Despite Dirty Harry's takeover, "City Heat" emerges as a showcase for Reynolds. He has the most screen time and the zippiest dialogue, but playing against a typically wooden Eastwood also heightens the opportunity for Reynolds to reap laughs with his more extroverted approach. The contrast between the two is very entertaining.
Critics were quick to dismiss this Christmas 1984 release as a bomb which it certainly appeared to be beside the Eddie Murphy blockbuster, "Beverly Hills Cop," in release at the same time. It is disappointing (Edwards would likely have given it more class), but by no means a dud. It breezes along at a comfortable pace, mixes its laughs evenly with action, and should make for a satisfying indulgence for fans of the two stars.
