MIRACLE MILE: Incredible Atmosphere and Rising Tension

Imagine picking up the phone and finding out that the end is coming—not just for you, but for everyone. In just a few dozen minutes, a nuclear bomb is going to be dropped, turning everything and everyone into dust. Instead of spending a routine evening with your girlfriend, you’re suddenly fighting for a chance to stay alive, running in search of a helicopter or some other flying machine that might offer a way out. This is, in short, the plot of the 1988 film Miracle Mile, after which it’s hard not to view the telephone as a truly diabolical invention. It all begins with a fateful phone call in a phone booth, during which the protagonist learns that not only he, but the entire area, is in grave danger. If not for that call, the hero would’ve continued living in blissful ignorance and could’ve spent his final moments as he wished. And as we know, ignorance can sometimes be a blessing.

The screenplay was originally written for The Twilight Zone film. It was meant to serve as the basis for the movie before it was decided that the film would be divided into segments and one of them directed by Steven Spielberg. However, director Steve De Jarnatt felt the ending in the original script didn’t suit the story. In the end, he managed to carry out the film according to his vision, giving it the title Miracle Mile, a reference to the area in Los Angeles where the story takes place.

I’ve seen Miracle Mile twice. I thought the second viewing wouldn’t leave the same impact as the first, but I can honestly say its power hit me once again. To start with, the 1988 film has a very well-written script, precisely structured and with expertly built-up tension. The film’s climax is incredibly emotional, especially when you consider how innocently it all begins. The starting point is infatuation—an emotion the protagonist decides to follow, which ultimately leads him straight into tragedy.

Given that the film shows the moment just before a catastrophe—a nuclear strike—it clearly taps into Cold War fears that paralyzed society at the time. In this sense, especially in how it portrays paranoia and chaos, it’s close to post-apocalyptic cinema, although technically it should be called “pre-catastrophic,” since it only shows the vestibule of the hell that is to come. Nevertheless, it powerfully stirs the viewer’s imagination, who can picture the rest of the story even as it unfolds.

Miracle Mile also performs well in terms of acting. In the lead role is the then-little-known Anthony Edwards, who would later gain fame for his role in ER (also a result of working with De Jarnatt). Probably due to budget constraints and salaries, but in my opinion, it was a good thing that the film wasn’t led by a major star of the era—otherwise, the “everyman” effect might have been lost. The film includes many interesting cameos, such as Mykelti Williamson (famous for playing Bubba in Forrest Gump) and Earl Boen from The Terminator. Although Crispin Glover (Back to the Future) doesn’t appear on-screen, he plays a crucial role as the man who delivers the devastating news to the protagonist over the phone.

But truthfully, Miracle Mile stands out most thanks to its stunning cinematography and excellent music. These elements create an unforgettable atmosphere of impending doom. The dynamic shots, constantly changing scenery, and what you might call the choreography of chaos, all skillfully heighten the tension. The soundtrack by Tangerine Dream creates an electrifying ‘80s aura. Miracle Mile is watched as it was composed—intensely, with few chances to catch your breath. It is, in my view, one of the best films about impending disaster—very specific in its approach. It doesn’t aim to show the end of the world, nor does it focus on its aftermath. The director was more interested in portraying the feeling of threat. And that, he achieved.

One open-ended element is the parallel drawn at the beginning of the film to the Big Bang—the explosion that began evolution and all existence. It’s as if the film wants to suggest that an explosion can be a very ambiguous concept. It can mark an end, but also a beginning.