Mamet dictates to the reader, in his book on directing, to resist calling a nail a house. A nail is just a nail. He repeats this over and over again: a scene isn't a movie. A shot isn't a scene. A scene is a scene. A shot is a shot. A nail is a nail. A nail isn't a house. It is only by stringing each discrete unit of decision and preparation together that a film is made. If Mamet's…
gonna get one of those helvetica font shirts that says
It's a dark, scaly thriller that has been completely occluded by the cultural lodestar that is Silence of the Lambs. But in my heart I have love for each and every one of my dee-sturbed fellas! Stay creepy, my friends!
likely to give 5 stars after another viewing. Oh Christ. It's new wave, it's Cassavetes, it's long long lenses, it's dialogue struck like a match along the tongues of sleepless Meisner students, a score that punishes, teals and blues and city lights that wink out into bokeh the size of tank rounds. It's Michael Mann baby! He's arriving!