When a police chief assigns you the task of infiltrating New York’s underground gay S&M scene to track down a serial killer – and until that moment, your most challenging case involved an off-leash dog in the park – it’s clear your life is about to change in ways you can’t anticipate. Steve Burns (Al Pacino), a young and strikingly attractive officer, is chosen for this unusual mission. His role? To serve as bait. To immerse himself in a world of leather, chains, and dark glances. To walk into bars where the danger of either receiving a drink or a punch is equally possible. To discover a new, unsettling definition of “dominance.”
When your superior orders you to go undercover in New York’s underground S&M gay community to catch a serial killer – and your biggest case so far involved a dog running loose in Central Park – it’s evident that your world is about to shift dramatically. This is the premise of Cruising (1980).
Cruising (1980): Cops, Chains, and Unanswerable Questions
From Rookie to Bait: Enter Steve Burns
Steve Burns (Al Pacino), a young and attractive officer, is selected to infiltrate Manhattan’s leather bars in order to identify the killer targeting gay men. His task? To be the bait. To enter a world filled with leather, chains, cryptic glances, and pounding music. To step into bars where it’s uncertain whether a drink or a punch will be the greeting. To understand a completely different meaning of “domination.”
As Burns ventures deeper into this dark world, the distinction between his role and his personal identity begins to blur. What starts as a professional assignment soon turns into something far more unsettling. This case isn’t merely about catching a killer—it’s about uncovering the truths hidden behind the masks we all wear.
Directed by Fear: Friedkin’s Unflinching Vision
William Friedkin (The Exorcist) doesn’t prioritize making the audience comfortable. Cruising (1980) is raw, intense, and disorienting. Filmed in real clubs with actual patrons, the movie blurs the boundaries between fiction and documentary. It creates an atmosphere that unsettles viewers, both at the time of its release and even now.
Pacino: Tension in Silence
In Cruising (1980), Al Pacino portrays Steve with a quiet intensity. His performance is not loud, but rather filled with internal conflict and unease. There’s little dialogue, but there’s an abundance of staring, twitching, and confusion. Karen Allen plays his girlfriend, Nancy, who begins to sense that Steve is descending into a space she cannot follow.
The supporting characters feel more like archetypes than fully fleshed-out individuals, and this is intentional. In Cruising (1980), people rarely speak—they observe, test boundaries, dominate, or submit. Every interaction feels like an unprepared exam.
Quote That Hits Like a Nightstick
“Sometimes I think I’m losing my grip. I don’t know who I am anymore.”
— Steve Burns, Cruising (1980)
The Ending? Forget Resolutions.
If you’re expecting a clear-cut conclusion, Cruising (1980) won’t provide it. The film ends as it began: in shadows. Did Steve change? Was he always like this? Who was the true killer? Perhaps the case was never truly about murder, but about the violence of self-denial.
In the End, He Didn’t Just Catch the Killer… He Caught Himself
“I didn’t come here to hurt you… I came here to find out who I am.”
— Steve Burns, Cruising (1980)
Whether viewed as a problematic relic or a daring queer classic, Cruising (1980) resists being neat, safe, or easily understood. It’s a brutal experience wrapped in leather, illuminated by the flicker of a single lightbulb.
