Dusk settled over Biscayne Bay as the two visiting sheriff`s deputies climbed into their rental car and headed out into the steamy city, out into the night.
Officers Scott Bieler and Ray Bunner had come to Miami to collect a prisoner, a man charged with dealing drugs, and return him to jail in Prince Georges County, Md.
Mission completed (for the night, at least), they set off in search of another kind of Miami vice: two stylishly dressed undercover detectives last seen in a speeding black Ferrari. The detectives, Sonny Crockett and Ricardo Tubbs, are also known as actors Don Johnson and Philip Michael Thomas.
Cruising past palm trees, forests of neon, and hotels in ice-cream colors, the real-life crimefighters chanced upon bright floodlights illuminating the waterfront at Miamarina in Bayfront Park.
Stopping to investigate, they found themselves practically on the set of their favorite television show, ”Miami Vice”–close enough, anyway, to overhear Johnson`s characteristically cool greeting to Miami police moonlighting as security guards. ”Hey, dudes,” he said.
Fascinated, the out-of-town cops remained at the shooting until 2 a.m., chatting with the film crew and observing action that moved from the deck of Crockett`s 43-foot sloop, St. Vitus Dance, to Biscayne Bay, where a speedboat exploded during a high-speed chase.
”Usually on out-of-town assignments,” Bieler said, ”we go to night clubs where you`ve got to spend big bucks. This is cheap entertainment, really a different kind of trip.”
Like many Miami visitors these days, the suburban Washington, D.C., deputies found it fairly easy to step into the scene of ”Miami Vice” by catching up with filming or simply by hanging out–nonchalantly, of course–at the glitzy south Florida nightclubs, turquoise and pink bistros, sugary beaches, and public parks routinely used as locations.
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For male groupies, pastel T-shirts and loose-fitting linen jackets are de rigeur.
Sizzling in its second season, the NBC series is credited with boosting Miami tourism, changing the city`s image from a crime-ridden, cocaine-crazed and somewhat seedy haven for coupon-clipping retirees to an alluring, sophisticated metropolis–a sort of New York with palm trees, a contemporary Casablanca.
”It shows us as intriguing, an adventurous type of destination,” says Ron Kent, deputy director of Greater Miami and the Beaches Tourism Council.
Dade County tourism is up nearly 14 percent over last year, but Kent insists the reason isn`t ”Miami Vice” alone, citing Miami`s growing position as an international banking center and its pervasive Latin American flavor.
Closer to Caracas than to Chicago, Miami is indeed a magnet for South American and Caribbean visitors. Half the city`s population is Cuban; Spanish appears on most signs and often is overheard at restaurant tables and over the bustling airport`s public address system.
Alex Daoud, Miami Beach`s newly elected mayor, is enthusiastic about the TV series and its impact on south Florida. ”When `Miami Vice` is shown up north in winter, it`s worth a million bucks down here,” he says.
Everyone, it seems, is catching ”Vice” fever, and all of Miami is a set. From the toney shops and nightclubs at the Mayfair shopping area on Coconut Grove to Miami Beach`s nostalgia-tinged Art Deco showpiece, the Carlyle Hotel, there is no telling where the cast and crew will be spotted next.
A good bet is the Alexander Hotel, a chic, pink beachfront hotel that`s headquarters for the frenetic ”Vice” production office and for Johnson`s fan club, both off-limits to visiting groupies.
Rooms at the posh all-suite hotel start at $180 a night; the hotel`s exclusive restaurant, Dominique`s, features alligator appetizers and other exotica, with price tags to match.
It is not unusual to see ”Miami Vice” producer John Nicolella`s silver Mercedes parked under the pink porticos at the Alexander or to share an elevator with musician Phil Collins and others involved with the show.
Valets and room-service waiters happily gossip about their encounters with ”Don,” including his growing aloofness and his affinity for stone crab. ”Rico,” by comparison, is described as friendly and polite. Most of the staff members claim to have appeared in the show as an extra, or know someone –a priest, a hairdresser, a friend–who did.
Sergio, a valet, tells of a tourist from Memphis who offered him $30 just for a peek at Johnson.
”She sat and sat and sat in her car. When he finally came out she couldn`t say anything, she was so shocked,” he recalls. ”She wanted him to notice her so badly. She was willing to pay $300 for a ticket to a private party.”
Lacking such an invitation, many visitors and natives instead make their way to Club 1235, a cavernous high-tech nightclub featured frequently in
”Vice” episodes.
Here pastel-clad sophisticates sip turquoise drinks `til dawn and mingle against a backdrop of rainbow-colored lasers, dry-ice haze and a driving disco and salsa beat.
The weekend cover charge is $12 a head. Habitues include giggly Madonna lookalikes with ”Cuban curse” eyeliner and materialistic points of view.
”What you wear and what you drive is what you are,” says 18-year-old Michele, slipping behind the wheel of a sleek sapphire Camaro. ”You save up your money all week to come here and never wear the same thing twice.”
Those who want to deck themselves out in true ”Miami Vice” style have several shopping options. The most fun are the Bal Harbour Shops, a lush open- air mall with a car wash in the parking structure. ”Vice” costume designer Bambi Breakstone and other crew members frequently are spotted searching for props and paraphernalia.
Check out the sunglasses, turbans, Attila the Hun shield earrings, and one-of-a-kind costume jewelry at Anasophia and pick up your rhinestone-studded ”Miami Vice” T-shirt ($45) at Denning and Denning.
The tennis shop nearby sells matching rhinestone-studded tennis shoes for a mere $140. For reasonably priced baubles, try Yling Ylang, with its turquoise and pink tile floor and flamingo on a screen.
Be sure to drop by Cami`s, a shocking-pink high-tech hair salon frequented by Edward James Olmos, the brooding Lt. Martin Castillo, and various other ”Vice”-ites.
Cami Bonsignore, the shop`s pony-tailed proprietor, may look familiar. He had a speaking part in a recent episode, ”Home Invaders,” in which a woman dropped off her dog for grooming.
”I said something like `Drown the dog if it tries to bite,` ” recalls Cami, wearing a red T-shirt and loose-fitting charcoal karate suit.
Noting that he gets a check each time the episode is shown, he says:
”They just started showing it in Europe. I may get rich one day.”
When you tire of shopping, slip into the Upper East Side, another
”Vice” film site, and sample the vegetarian ”quiche me once & quiche me twice” for $6.95. Or park yourself outside Cafe Ambiance near a cascading waterfall and watch yuppie mothers push yuppie babies through the mall in Aprica strollers. Le Hamburger with fries will set you back $6.50, Le Sandwich $5.95.
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Nearby, an accordion player in mismatched blue polyester plays one of Brahms` Hungarian dances as a slinky model with a black fox boa over her shoulder parades the latest fashion.
Across town at Coconut Grove, the oh-so-Italian and expensive Gianni Versace at the Mayfair reportedly is one of Johnson`s favorite shops, the emporium where he bought the brocaded tuxedo he wore to the White House. The glamorous new mall, with its designer shops, mosaic tiles, bubbling fountains and beautiful people, is certainly worth a look.
Back on Miami Beach, no visit would be complete without a nightcap at the Carlyle, a favorite ”Vice” watering hole where natives like Sary (”I don`t work; I work out”) Safir philosophizes about their favorite show and favorite city.
”Miami is the place to be,” she says. ”It`s hot. There`s a lot of energy here now that was missing for a very long time. It`s like the old Frank Sinatra days are here again. Even if they`re only here for a few days, everyone wants a part of it, everyone wants to touch it.”
Bieler, one of the visiting Maryland cops, left without getting an autograph from his TV heroes. But he did manage to secure one from Miami Dolphins football player Bob Baumhower, a local star who was among the crowd watching Miami`s hottest stars film that night. Bieler later sent away for an autographed photo of Don Johnson, now hanging in the squad room above his desk.