INTRODUCTION: CRIME, CHARM, AND CHAOS IN SOUTH FLORIDA
Miami Blues, the 1990 offbeat crime-comedy directed by George Armitage and based on the novel by Charles Willeford, is a sun-drenched, violent, and strangely affecting story about a sociopath who plays cop and the sweet Florida girl who falls for him. It’s a quirky neo-noir that revels in contradiction—both brutal and funny, cynical yet strangely romantic. With Alec Baldwin at his most menacingly charismatic and Jennifer Jason Leigh stealing the film as a guileless young woman named Susie Waggoner, Miami Blues might be a tonal balancing act, but it somehow works.
The movie plays like a fever dream baked in Miami humidity, and while it veers off course at times, the central performances and a script that leans into its weirdness make it one of the more underappreciated gems of early 90s cinema.
PLOT: A SLICK PSYCHOPATH PLAYS COP
The story kicks off with a jolt: a Hare Krishna is randomly murdered at the airport by Frederick J. Frenger Jr. (Alec Baldwin), a career criminal who has just arrived in Miami. That single act of violence sets off a domino effect as Frenger assumes a new identity, shacks up with a kind-hearted escort named Susie (Jennifer Jason Leigh), and sets about playing vigilante while impersonating a police officer.
Frenger’s interactions with the world are simultaneously amusing and terrifying. He beats up petty criminals, steals from those he “arrests,” and slowly crafts a fantasy of control and power. Hot on his trail is Sgt. Hoke Moseley (Fred Ward), a grizzled and slightly pathetic detective whose false teeth are stolen by Frenger during a botched investigation.
What unfolds is a cat-and-mouse game with heavy doses of dark comedy, pathos, and character-driven storytelling. Unlike many crime films, Miami Blues is less interested in the procedural elements and more focused on the psychological implosions of its trio of leads.
ALEC BALDWIN: THE CHARMING PSYCHO
Before he became known for Jack Donaghy, Donald Trump impressions, and a string of action roles, Alec Baldwin was turning heads as a magnetic leading man with an edge. In Miami Blues, he’s at his most dangerous and captivating. Baldwin’s Frenger is not just a criminal—he’s a compulsive liar, a fantasist, a man who wants to build a life from scraps of stolen identity and power. He plays a cop not out of justice, but because it lets him dominate others with impunity.
Baldwin never lets the audience forget Frenger is a bad guy. But he also never lets him become boring. The performance balances menace and likability in a way that makes you root for his failure while being completely fascinated by his unraveling.
JENNIFER JASON LEIGH: THE HEART OF THE FILM
Leigh’s Susie is the beating heart of Miami Blues. A naive, good-natured college student turned part-time escort, Susie could have easily been played for cheap laughs or pity. But Leigh brings such sweetness, vulnerability, and quirky optimism to the role that she makes Susie feel like a fully realized person.
She genuinely believes in Frenger. When he tells her he’s a cop, she beams with pride. When he brings home money and trinkets, she sees a future. Her love is so sincere that it borders on tragic. Leigh gives Susie a kind of sunny sadness—she’s trying to live the American dream, even if it means hitching herself to a delusion.
One of the film’s strongest elements is the relationship between Frenger and Susie. Their domestic scenes are oddly tender, even as they’re built on lies and manipulation. You understand why she clings to him and why he tries—in his warped way—to be someone worthy of her.
FRED WARD: THE UNLIKELY NEMESIS
As Sgt. Hoke Moseley, Fred Ward brings gruff, weary charm. He’s not a super-cop or a sharp mind; he’s just a man doing a hard job while his body and willpower break down. Ward plays Hoke with a dry wit and quiet sadness, grounding the film in something closer to real human emotion amid the madness.
His interactions with Frenger are never action-packed showdowns. Instead, they’re awkward, passive-aggressive standoffs until the violence inevitably erupts. His chemistry with Baldwin is subtle but effective—a tired man versus a lunatic who thinks he’s the hero.
DIRECTION AND STYLE: FLORIDA WEIRDNESS
Director George Armitage leans into the strangeness of Willeford’s novel, capturing the absurdity of the characters and the surreal nature of their interactions. Miami Blues feels like it’s soaked in sweat and rum. The color palette is faded pastel, the music is offbeat, and the pacing has an almost hypnotic rhythm. This isn’t Miami glamor—this is Miami grime.
The movie never fully commits to being a comedy, a thriller, or a romance, and that indecision actually works in its favor. The shifting tones make it feel unpredictable, alive, and slightly dangerous—just like Frenger.
VIOLENCE AND MORALITY: NO EASY ANSWERS
The violence in Miami Blues is sudden and jarring. One moment the film is light and flirtatious, the next a character is being shot or stabbed. That whiplash effect reinforces the theme that the world Frenger is building is doomed to collapse. The film doesn’t glorify violence, but it doesn’t moralize it either. Like its characters, it just exists in a moral fog.
Susie’s innocence is used as a contrast against this backdrop of crime and delusion. She represents the dream—a clean house, a new life, love and hope—that Frenger can never truly have. And when the violence finally finds its way home, it hits harder than any shootout.
DIALOGUE: QUIRKY AND QUOTABLE
The dialogue in Miami Blues is a strange blend of noir cool, regional slang, and awkward sincerity. Characters say things that feel just a little off from reality, adding to the dreamlike quality. Susie’s wide-eyed observations and Frenger’s brazen lies make for sharp, funny, and occasionally heartbreaking exchanges.
A standout moment comes when Susie says something earnest and Frenger replies with a cold, “Don’t talk like that, it depresses me.” That simple line sums up his entire character: charming on the surface, empty inside.
WHAT WORKS: PERFORMANCES AND TONE
Despite its loose plot and odd structure, the film thrives on character. Baldwin, Leigh, and Ward are each memorable in their own right and even better in combination. The tone, often criticized for being inconsistent, actually mirrors the instability of the main character. You never quite know what’s coming next, and that keeps the film watchable even in its slower moments.
The use of Miami as more than just a backdrop—as a mood, an aesthetic, a culture—gives the film a flavor missing from so many studio thrillers. The city feels alive, indifferent, chaotic. It matches the madness of Frenger and the fragile hope of Susie.
WHAT DOESN’T: LOOSE STRUCTURE AND UNEVEN PACING
There’s no denying that Miami Blues lacks traditional narrative tightness. The second act drifts a bit, and viewers expecting a more conventional thriller may be disappointed. Some scenes drag, others feel unresolved. But this looseness also feels deliberate—as if Armitage is less concerned with resolution and more interested in emotional tone.
There’s also a minor issue with tonal whiplash. The transitions between comedy and tragedy aren’t always smooth. For some, that might feel jarring. For others, it might feel like life.
CONCLUSION: A MISFIT MASTERPIECE
Miami Blues is a strange, compelling, and ultimately rewarding film. It may not follow the rules of genre filmmaking, but it creates its own oddball space—equal parts crime saga, character study, and black comedy. Alec Baldwin is unforgettable, Jennifer Jason Leigh is radiant and heartbreakingly sincere, and Fred Ward grounds the madness with weary charm.
This is a movie that lingers. You remember the pink hues of Miami sunsets, Susie’s sweet smile, Frenger’s cold eyes, and Hoke’s haunted quiet. It’s not just about cops and criminals; it’s about people pretending to be something they’re not, chasing a version of themselves that doesn’t exist.
FINAL SCORE: 8/10 — Jennifer Jason Leigh shines, Baldwin chills, and the film hums with the weird heat of Miami’s underbelly. Worth revisiting, especially if you’re tired of neat endings and easy answers.
