Director: James Foley
Year Released: 1992
Rating: 3.5
Some have whined that the film "was all talk" and "stagnant," which is why I avoided it for so long - why I pay attention to such people is beyond me. Frankly, I can't get enough of David Mamet (who wrote the Pulitzer-winning play - and deserved it) or his dialogue, which may have been inspired by one of my heroes, Samuel Beckett, who employed a lot of rat-a-tat-tat back-and-forth arguing (and yelling and cursing and blaming). The screenplay is pulled off miraculously by the only actors who could do the roles they were given, who make the running time fly by because the words seem like their words, and the characters, them. I could very well gripe about how yes, it is a filmed play, and yes, "little happens and the camera rarely moves" and yes, there is a "lot of talking" but talk can be - and sometimes is - just as effective as explosions or jump cuts. I wish I could single out an individual performance as being a standout, but they all deserve praise.
