Ever get that feeling that a movie just slipped through the cracks of time? Honestly, Made in Heaven 1987 is exactly that kind of flick. It’s got Timothy Hutton at the height of his "boy next door" charm and Kelly McGillis right after she became a household name in Top Gun. Yet, if you ask a random person on the street about it today, you'll probably just get a blank stare. It’s a bummer, because this movie is weird. Like, really weird in a soft, 80s-synth-and-neon-light kind of way.
Directed by Alan Rudolph, the film attempts to tackle the afterlife without the heavy-handed religious baggage you’d expect from a modern blockbuster. It’s a romantic fantasy. It’s a drama. Sometimes, it’s a bit of a head-scratcher. Basically, the plot follows Mike Shea (Hutton), a guy who dies saving a family from a submerged car and ends up in a version of heaven that looks suspiciously like a well-manicured suburban neighborhood where everyone wears pastel colors.
What Actually Happens in Made in Heaven 1987?
Let's break down the logic here. In this version of the afterlife, you don’t just sit on a cloud and play a harp. You hang out. You meet people. Mike meets Annie Packert (McGillis), a "new soul" who has never actually lived on Earth. They fall in love. But since Annie hasn't had her turn at human life yet, she eventually has to go down to Earth to be born.
Mike is devastated. He makes a deal with a guy named "Emmett"—played by an uncredited, cigarette-smoking Neil Young—to go back to Earth and find her. The catch? He won't remember who she is. He won't remember heaven. He has 30 years to find his soulmate or they’re both basically out of luck. It's high stakes, but played with a very specific, dreamlike pacing that was Rudolph's signature.
The film splits itself between the ethereal, bright visuals of the "upstairs" and the gritty, often disappointing reality of Earth. Watching Mike (now reborn as Elmo Barnett) navigate a life of missed connections is genuinely frustrating in the way a good romance should be. You’re screaming at the screen because they keep walking past each other in toy stores or on street corners.
The Strange Casting and Cameos
One of the most fascinating things about Made in Heaven 1987 isn't even the lead actors. It’s the supporting cast. Neil Young as a celestial gatekeeper? That's a choice. And he’s actually good. He brings this gravelly, no-nonsense energy to a role that could have been very cheesy.
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Then you have Tom Petty. Yes, that Tom Petty. He plays a character named Stane. It’s these little nuggets of 80s rock royalty peppered throughout the film that give it a cult-like texture. It feels like a project made by a group of artists who were just hanging out in Malibu and decided to make a movie about the meaning of life.
Why the Critics Weren't Exactly Kind
If you look at the reviews from 1987, they were... mixed. To be polite. Roger Ebert gave it two stars. He felt the heaven sequences were too sugary and that the logic of the "deal" Mike makes didn't quite hold up under scrutiny. He wasn't entirely wrong. The movie relies heavily on vibe over hard-boiled internal logic.
But honestly? That’s why it works for some people. It’s a mood piece. In the late 80s, cinema was leaning into high-concept fantasies like Ghost or Field of Dreams. This movie tried to do something a bit more European and abstract, and for a mainstream audience, it felt a little too "lovey-dovey" or aimless.
The Visual Language of Alan Rudolph
Alan Rudolph was a protege of Robert Altman. You can see that influence in the way he handles the camera. There are these long, sweeping shots and a focus on character over plot beats. In the heaven scenes, the lighting is intentionally overexposed. It’s meant to feel like a memory you can't quite grasp.
Compare that to the Earth scenes. They are darker, more cluttered. The contrast is the whole point. We’re meant to feel Mike’s subconscious longing for a place he can’t remember. It’s a visual representation of that "deja vu" feeling we all get sometimes.
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The Sound of the Afterlife
You can’t talk about this movie without the soundtrack. Mark Isham did the score, and it is peak 80s ambient synth. It’s airy. It’s slightly melancholy. It perfectly matches the longing in Hutton's eyes.
- "Protestant" – The main theme captures that sense of floating.
- The inclusion of Martha Davis (from The Motels) on the soundtrack adds to that specific era-defining sound.
- The use of silence in the "transition" scenes helps ground the fantasy.
Music isn't just background noise here; it's a character. It bridges the gap between the two worlds. When Elmo (Mike's Earth persona) hears certain sounds, it triggers a response he doesn't understand. It’s a clever way to handle the "amnesia" trope without having the character constantly staring at a photograph or a locket.
Is Made in Heaven 1987 Worth a Rewatch Today?
Look, if you’re looking for a fast-paced thriller, stay away. This isn't that. But if you want to see a movie that captures a very specific moment in independent-leaning Hollywood history, it's a goldmine.
There's a sincerity in Made in Heaven 1987 that we don't see much anymore. Movies now are so afraid of being "cringe" that they wrap everything in layers of irony. This film is 100% earnest. It really wants you to believe that love is a cosmic force that can transcend death and rebirth. It’s sweet. Maybe a little too sweet for some, but it's genuine.
The Legacy of the "Soulmate" Movie
This film paved the way for a lot of what we saw in the 90s. You can see DNA of this movie in What Dreams May Come or even The Lake House. The idea that two people are destined to find each other regardless of time and space is a powerful hook.
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What makes this one different is the lack of a "villain." There’s no devil. There’s no cosmic evil trying to stop them. The only obstacle is time and the limitations of the human brain. It’s a more internal, psychological struggle than your average fantasy flick.
Actionable Takeaways for Film Buffs
If you’re planning on hunting this down, keep a few things in mind to get the most out of it.
- Check the Version: Try to find a high-definition restoration if possible. The 80s film stock can look a bit muddy on old DVD transfers, and the lighting in the heaven scenes really needs that clarity to pop.
- Look for the Cameos: Keep your eyes peeled for Rick Springfield and other musicians. It’s like a game of "Spot the 80s Star."
- Context Matters: Watch it as a double feature with Choose Me (1984). It helps you understand Alan Rudolph’s style and why he made the choices he did here.
- Embrace the Pace: Let the movie wash over you. It’s not meant to be analyzed for plot holes; it’s meant to be felt.
The movie ends on a note that is both satisfying and a little bittersweet. It reminds us that even if we don't remember where we came from, the connections we make are what actually define our lives. Whether you believe in an afterlife or not, the message of staying open to "the one" is something that still resonates.
If you want to dive deeper into this era of filmmaking, your next step is to look into the filmography of Lorimar Motion Pictures. They were behind a lot of these mid-budget, high-concept films that defined the late 80s. You might also want to track down the soundtrack on vinyl; Mark Isham’s work here is some of his most evocative, and it still holds up as a great piece of ambient music for a rainy afternoon.