Fifteen Minute Film Fanatics

Tennyson called nature “red in tooth and claw,” but that warning didn’t keep Timothy Treadwell from living among the grizzlies of Alaska for thirteen summers–until one of them killed him and his girlfriend. Werner Herzog’s 2005 documentary Grizzly Man tells Treadwell’s story and raises the issues of what happens when we ascribe human motives and characteristics to animals and the ways in which we all attempt to stake out our own territory in an indifferent world. Incredible bumper music by John Deley. Herzog’s most recent book The Future of Truth (2025) is a series of essays about what constitutes truth and the threats truth faces in our age of AI and deepfakes. Please subscribe to the show and consider leaving us a rating or review. You can find over three hundred episodes wherever you get your podcasts. Follow the show on Letterboxd and email us any time at [email protected] with requests and recommendations. Check out Dan Moran’s substack, Pages and Frames, where he writes about books and movies, as well as his many film-related author interviews on The New Books Network. Read Mike Takla’s substack, The Grumbler’s Almanac, for commentary on offbeat topics of the day. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Woody Allen has called A Streetcar Named Desire the most well-directed film ever made and its influence on Blue Jasmine (2013) is unmistakable. Both concern a woman whose fantasy life and self-deception break down and both feature incredible performances by the lead actress: in Streetcar, it’s Vivien Leigh and here it’s Cate Blanchett. And if Streetcar is a high point of Eliza Kazan’s filmography, Blue Jasmine is surely one of Allen’s and perhaps the best of the subgenre Woody Allen Movies Without The Woody Allen Character. Incredible bumper music by John Deley. Blue Jasmine is Allen’s 44th film; his memoir, Apropos of Nothing, details how he became a writer and director of fifty films. Please subscribe to the show and consider leaving us a rating or review. You can find over three hundred episodes wherever you get your podcasts. Follow the show on Letterboxd and email us any time at [email protected] with requests and recommendations. Check out Dan Moran’s substack, Pages and Frames, where he writes about books and movies, as well as his many film-related author interviews on The New Books Network. Read Mike Takla’s substack, The Grumbler’s Almanac, for commentary on offbeat topics of the day. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In 1828, a seventeen-year-old boy was found wandering the streets of Nuremberg, holding two letters and unable to say more than a few words. The locals adopted him as a kind of municipal mascot; eventually, they learned that he had been bound in darkness until his release and struggled to learn more about his past. Werner Herzog took the story as a basis for his 1974 film–not one of his trademark documentaries–and used it as a meditation on the human condition. It’s an unforgettable experience, like seeing 2001 for the first time. Join us as we discuss the film’s ideas, humor, and audacity. Incredible bumper music by John Deley. The German title of the film is Every Man for Himself and God Against All, which is also the title of Werner Herzog’s 2024 memoir. Please subscribe to the show and consider leaving us a rating or review. You can find over three hundred episodes wherever you get your podcasts. Follow the show on Letterboxd and email us any time at [email protected] with requests and recommendations. Check out Dan Moran’s substack, Pages and Frames, where he writes about books and movies, as well as his many film-related author interviews on The New Books Network. Read Mike Takla’s substack, The Grumbler’s Almanac, for commentary on offbeat topics of the day. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

“Forget it, Jake—it’s Chinatown.” This piece of advice is as famous as it is useless: Jake Gittes (Jack Nicholson) will never be able to forget what he’s seen. Chinatown (1974) is also impossible to forget: whether it’s the perfect nod to noir or the best noir of all time, it’s endlessly fascinating, compelling, and disturbing. Join us for an improvised conversation about why the film still fascinates and why Noah Cross (John Huston) might be the best movie villain of all time. Incredible bumper music by John Deley. If you want to read a great in-depth book about the making of Chinatown, check out Sam Wasson’s The Big Goodbye. Please subscribe to the show and consider leaving us a rating or review. You can find over three hundred episodes wherever you get your podcasts. Follow the show on Letterboxd and email us any time at [email protected] with requests and recommendations. Check out Dan Moran’s substack, Pages and Frames, where he writes about books and movies, as well as his many film-related author interviews on The New Books Network. Read Mike Takla’s substack, The Grumbler’s Almanac, for commentary on offbeat topics of the day. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Hollywood loves making movies about itself: on this show alone, we’ve done Sunset Boulevard, Sullivan’s Travels, and Singin’ in the Rain. Get Shorty (1995) is Elmore Leonard’s contribution to the genre, a film that was “meta” before the term became overused: we are given the illusion of spontaneity and the story–like one of Leonard’s novels–seems like it’s being made up as it moves along. This perfect 90s movie is a lighthearted and wholly enjoyable dramatization of screenwriter William Goldman’s famous description of the industry: “Nobody knows anything.” Incredible bumper music by John Deley. If you’re interested in reading the original novel, you can find it here. Please subscribe to the show and consider leaving us a rating or review. You can find over three hundred episodes wherever you get your podcasts. Follow the show on Letterboxd and email us any time at [email protected] with requests and recommendations. Check out Dan Moran’s substack, Pages and Frames, where he writes about books and movies, as well as his many film-related author interviews on The New Books Network. Read Mike Takla’s substack, The Grumbler’s Almanac, for commentary on offbeat topics of the day. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

A Star Is Born has been filmed four times, but the first version is the best: a combination of Singin’ in the Rain and Death of a Salesman, David O. Selznick’s production drips with “movie” and artificiality, yet still delivers an ending that seems taken from Greek tragedy. No stars were harmed in the making of this film–yet the film also dramatizes the harm inflicted by a steady diet of fame. It’s not an indictment of Hollywood, but an illustration of how the machine works. Incredible bumper music by John Deley. If you’re interested in reading Dorothy Parker, Robert Carson, and Alan Campbell’s excellent screenplay, you can find it here. The collection Memo from David O. Selznick is an addictive edition of hundreds of memos, telegrams, and letters from the producer about the films he helped create, A Star Is Born among them. Please subscribe to the show and consider leaving us a rating or review. You can find over three hundred episodes wherever you get your podcasts. Follow the show on Letterboxd and email us any time at [email protected] with requests and recommendations. Check out Dan Moran’s substack, Pages and Frames, where he writes about books and movies, as well as his many film-related author interviews on The New Books Network. Read Mike Takla’s substack, The Grumbler’s Almanac, for commentary on offbeat topics of the day. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Every other movie seems to be touted as a “tour de force”--but Philip Barantini’s 2021 look at ninety minutes in the life of a chef and everyone around him really earns that praise. The entire film was shot in one take, not to be “original,” but because doing so reflects the tension and stress of the whole enterprise: a restaurant, like a film, is a complicated ecosystem in which personalities, hang-ups, failures, and backstories collide. Join us for a conversation about how the restaurant is, like so many of our jobs, a petri dish in which radically different people are placed and forced to coexist. Sometimes, things get ugly. Incredible bumper music by John Deley. Adam Reiner’s The New Rules of Dining Out explains how restaurants work and complements the film like a Cabernet Sauvignon does a steak. You can also see Adam Reiner being interviewed about his book and favorite restaurant-based films here on Pages and Frames. Please subscribe to the show and consider leaving us a rating or review. You can find over three hundred episodes wherever you get your podcasts. Follow the show on Letterboxd and email us any time at [email protected] with requests and recommendations. Check out Dan Moran’s substack, Pages and Frames, where he writes about books and movies, as well as his many film-related author interviews on The New Books Network. Read Mike Takla’s substack, The Grumbler’s Almanac, for commentary on offbeat topics of the day. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

The average estimated words-per-minute in a feature film is 90; His Girl Friday (1940) clocks in at 240. And yet the fast dialogue is only one of its many fascinations. Everything about it perfectly lands: the script, the casting, the camerawork, the minor players–all contribute to what can be called, without the kind of hyperbole found in the Morning Post, a perfect film. It’s as cynical as Network yet as joyful as Singin’ in the Rain and skewers the news-tainment complex with an affection for its perpetrators. Join us for an appreciation for one of the best. Incredible bumper music by John Deley. Admirers of the film will enjoy this beautifully designed book edition of the original screenplay, in which the original dialogue from the film is reproduced complete with an accompanying commentary. Please subscribe to the show and consider leaving us a rating or review. You can find over three hundred episodes wherever you get your podcasts. Follow the show on Letterboxd and email us any time at [email protected] with requests and recommendations. Check out Dan Moran’s substack, Pages and Frames, where he writes about books and movies, as well as his many film-related author interviews on The New Books Network. Read Mike Takla’s substack, The Grumbler’s Almanac, for commentary on offbeat topics of the day. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Twentieth Century (1934) is a screwball comedy that moves like a runaway train and we are delightfully tied to the tracks. John Barrymore’s audacious performance as director Oscar Jaffee is awe-inspiring; Carole Lombard is equal to the task of pushing back against the man who, in a sense, created her. It’s Frankenstein meets His Girl Friday; it’s ninety minutes of screaming and yelling; it’s filled with as many coincidences as a Wodehouse novel; it’s a great portrait of theatrical types; and it’s laugh-out-loud funny from the first scene to the last. Join us for a ride! Incredible bumper music by John Deley. Michael Morrison’s John Barrymore, Shakespearean Actor tells the story of Barrymore’s triumphs as Hamlet and Richard III, which informed his performance as the overly-dramatic Oscar Jaffee. Please subscribe to the show and consider leaving us a rating or review. You can find over three hundred episodes wherever you get your podcasts. Follow the show on Letterboxd and email us any time at [email protected] with requests and recommendations. Check out Dan Moran’s substack, Pages and Frames, where he writes about books and movies, as well as his many film-related author interviews on The New Books Network. Read Mike Takla’s substack, The Grumbler’s Almanac, for commentary on offbeat topics of the day. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

“Yes, the newspapers were right: snow was general all over Ireland.”  That line from James Joyce’s story is heard at the end of John Huston’s 1987 adaptation, a true family affair in which his son, Tony, wrote the screenplay and his daughter, Anjelica, played a major role.  Like Huston’s first film, The Maltese Falcon (1941), The Dead is a perfect adaptation that complements the source material and enriches our understanding of it.    “The Dead” is the final story in Dubliners, James Joyce’s 1914 collection, available here.  Please subscribe to the show and consider leaving us a rating or review. You can find over three hundred episodes wherever you get your podcasts. Follow the show on Letterboxd and email us any time at [email protected] with requests and recommendations. Check out Dan Moran’s substack, Pages and Frames, where he writes about books and movies, as well as his many film-related author interviews on The New Books Network. Read Mike Takla’s substack, The Grumbler’s Almanac, for commentary on offbeat topics of the day. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Wings of Desire (1987) is a film that stays with the viewer; part of how it works is to flood the viewer’s mind with images that seem, at first, disconnected but which also take root and then resurface a day or week later when one isn’t suspecting to think about a trapeze artist or Peter Falk. More like a painting than a film, Wings of Desire flips the usual extolling of the spiritual world over the material one and asks what our lives could be like if we could see the material world as an angel. It’s a film universally loved for reasons that are difficult to articulate but certainly strong. The Pixels of Paul Cezanne is a 2018 collection of essays by Wim Wenders which he presents his observations and reflections on the fellow artists who have influenced, shaped and inspired him. Please subscribe to the show and consider leaving us a rating or review. You can find over three hundred episodes wherever you get your podcasts. Follow the show on Letterboxd and email us any time at [email protected] with requests and recommendations. Check out Dan Moran’s substack, Pages and Frames, where he writes about books and movies, as well as his many film-related author interviews on The New Books Network. Read Mike Takla’s substack, The Grumbler’s Almanac, for commentary on offbeat topics of the day. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Something film fanatics often say is that a particular director’s work is really “about the movies.” Sometimes that’s true and sometimes it isn’t–but there’s no doubt that The Purple Rose of Cairo (1985) is one of the “moviest” movies ever made. Every frame of it articulates the longing for life in a world superior to our own: the world of art. The problem is that the people on the screen, despite their temporary invasion of reality, eventually fade when the house lights rise. Patrick McGilligan’s 2025 biography, Woody Allen: A Travesty of a Mockery of a Sham, is a comprehensive, sweeping, and rigor­ous account of Allen’s life and career. Incredible bumper music by John Deley. Please subscribe to the show and consider leaving us a rating or review. You can find over three hundred episodes wherever you get your podcasts. Follow the show on Letterboxd–and email us any time at [email protected] with requests and recommendations. Check out Dan Moran’s substack, Pages and Frames, where he writes about books and movies, as well as his many film-related author interviews on The New Books Network. Read Mike Takla’s substack, The Grumbler’s Almanac, for commentary on offbeat topics of the day. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Have you ever felt that you keep making the same mistakes or that you have fallen into a pattern that could be Exhibit A as proof of reincarnation? The Beast (2023) uses all kinds of world-building and three different timelines to explore these ideas–and does so while faithfully adapting a 1903 story by Henry James. It’s the kind of film in which one could be lost in the red arrows that point out movie Easter eggs all over YouTube, but the real draw of the film is its incredible performances and how it combines intricate plotting with emotional weight. One of the many collections of James’s stories that includes “The Beast in the Jungle,” the basis for The Beast, can be found here. Incredible bumper music by John Deley. Please subscribe to the show and consider leaving us a rating or review. You can find over three hundred episodes wherever you get your podcasts. Follow the show on Letterboxd–and email us any time at [email protected] with requests and recommendations. Check out Dan Moran’s substack, Pages and Frames, where he writes about books and movies, as well as his many film-related author interviews on The New Books Network. Read Mike Takla’s substack, The Grumbler’s Almanac, for commentary on offbeat topics of the day. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

My Dinner with Andre (1981) is a film that uses the simple premise of two men sharing a meal as a vehicle for exploration of how we should live our lives. It asks fundamental questions about happiness and self-fulfillment that it doesn't wholly answer. The Trip (2010) uses the same premise as a way to dramatize two men earnestly debating who does the better impressions of Michael Caine, Al Pacino, and Sean Connery. But for all its playground sensibility, The Trip is not without ideas regarding how friendships are formed and sustained. Join us for a conversation about the real reason why men befriend each other and what they want from each other. Hint: it’s not sympathy, high regard, or a non-judgmental ear. If watching The Trip makes you want to make a reservation at your favorite spot, you may want to first read Adam Reiner’s The New Rules of Dining Out: An Insider's Guide to Enjoying Restaurants. Incredible bumper music by John Deley. Please subscribe to the show and consider leaving us a rating or review. You can find over three hundred episodes wherever you get your podcasts. Follow the show on X and on Letterboxd–and email us any time at [email protected] with requests and recommendations. Check out Dan Moran’s substack, Pages and Frames, where he writes about books and movies, as well as his many film-related author interviews on The New Books Network. Read Mike Takla’s substack, The Grumbler’s Almanac, for commentary on offbeat topics of the day. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Many movies tell us how to watch them. Whether it’s Raiders of the Lost Ark, Casablanca, or Rear Window, movies steer the viewers to certain reactions anticipated by their directors long before the first tickets have been sold. Michael Mann’s Miami Vice does this less often than other films (including Mann’s) with spectacular results. Almost twenty years after its release, the film seems to have found a new audience that appreciates Mann’s letting the viewer take the protagonists on their own terms. It’s not a buddy-cop movie, although the cops are friends; it’s not a tale of star-crossed lovers, although that’s plainly there; and it’s not a series of wild shoot-outs, although it culminates in a classic Michael Mann action sequence. The current colloquialism “It is what it is” seems to apply here–and what Miami Vice “is” is a great film, regardless of how it’s categorized. Jean-Baptiste Thoret’s Michael Mann:A Contemporary Retrospective examines Mann’s style, themes since he announced his presence in 1981 with Thief. Incredible bumper music by John Deley. Please subscribe to the show and consider leaving us a rating or review. You can find over three hundred episodes wherever you get your podcasts. Follow the show on X and on Letterboxd–and email us any time at [email protected] with requests and recommendations. Check out Dan Moran’s substack, Pages and Frames, where he writes about books and movies, as well as his many film-related author interviews on The New Books Network. Read Mike Takla’s substack, The Grumbler’s Almanac, for commentary on offbeat topics of the day. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Every so often, you encounter The Perfect Movie: something with a screenplay, cast, and direction that combine in a way that reminds you of what happens when everyone working on a movie gets it exactly right. History is Made at Night (1937) is one of those movies. Join us for a conversation about how a film that accelerates emotions almost to the level of farce and shifts between genres like a bored teenager with a remote control still dramatizes perfectly what it’s like to fall in love. Hervé Dumont’s 1993 book Frank Borzage: The Life and Films of a Hollywood Romantic offers complete coverage of Borzage's entire career: the more than 100 films he made and the effect of those films on movie audiences, especially between 1920 and 1940. Incredible bumper music by John Deley. Please subscribe to the show and consider leaving us a rating or review. You can find over three hundred episodes wherever you get your podcasts. Follow the show on X and on Letterboxd–and email us any time at [email protected] with requests and recommendations. Check out Dan Moran’s substack, Pages and Frames, where he writes about books and movies, as well as his many film-related author interviews on The New Books Network. Read Mike Takla’s substack, The Grumbler’s Almanac, for commentary on offbeat topics of the day. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Everybody was shocked when, in 1999, David Lynch released a G-rated film with a Norman Rockwell setting that didn’t have a dark underbelly or wild reveal; if you have a David Lynch bingo card, The Straight Story is the free space. And while The Straight Story is as wholesome a film as you can find, it's never sentimental or corny. Dan thinks it’s Lynch’s best. Join him and Mike as they talk about all the ways that the film could have gone wrong and, more importantly, all the things that Lynch gets right about aging, regret, and family. Any fan of David Lynch’s work should read Room to Dream, Lynch’s memoir that’s as unique as the man himself: the book has alternating chapters of Lynch and his official biographer telling the story of his life. Incredible bumper music by John Deley. Please subscribe to the show and consider leaving us a rating or review. You can find over three hundred episodes wherever you get your podcasts. Follow the show on X and on Letterboxd–and email us any time at [email protected] with requests and recommendations. Also check out Dan Moran’s substack, Pages and Frames, where he writes about books and movies, as well as his many film-related author interviews on The New Books Network. Check out Mike Takla’s substack, The Grumbler’s Almanac, for commentary on offbeat topics of the day. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

We’ve seen many attempts at transferring Mallory’s Le Morte d’Arthur and its variants onto the screen, but none of them capture the spirit of the original quite like Excalibur, John Boorman’s 1981 film that can be called, without insult, “aggressively two-dimensional.” Join us for a conversation about how Boorman makes the experience of watching a film like the experience of reading the legends. We also talk about the two best portrayals of King Arthur: Nigel Terry and Graham Chapman. If the conversation makes you want to read the original material, you can find a great edition of Le Morte d’Arthur here. Incredible bumper music by John Deley. Please subscribe to the show and consider leaving us a rating or review. You can find over three hundred episodes wherever you get your podcasts. Follow the show on X and on Letterboxd–and email us any time at [email protected] with requests and recommendations. Also check out Dan Moran’s substack, Pages and Frames, where he writes about books and movies, as well as his many film-related author interviews on The New Books Network. Check out Mike Takla’s substack, The Grumbler’s Almanac, for commentary on offbeat topics of the day. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In a film in which the audience buys its tickets knowing who will play the title role, what happens when you don’t have him enter the frame until a solid hour has passed? How does the focus shift from the horrific villain to the horror felt by his victims? Richard Fleischer’s The Boston Strangler (1968) isn’t a faithful retelling of Albert DeSalvo’s crimes or an explanation of his compulsion: he’s not Raskolnikov or Buffalo Bill. Instead, the film masterfully involves its viewers in the procedure of the hunt before throwing them into what feels like a separate one-act play, a conclusion in which nothing is concluded. Gerold Frank’s The Boston Strangler was the basis for the film: you can find the book here. Incredible bumper music by John Deley. Please subscribe to the show and consider leaving us a rating or review. You can find over three hundred episodes wherever you get your podcasts. Follow the show on X and on Letterboxd–and email us any time at [email protected] with requests and recommendations. Also check out Dan Moran’s substack, Pages and Frames, where he writes about books and movies, as well as his many film-related author interviews on The New Books Network. Check out Mike Takla’s substack, The Grumbler’s Almanac, for commentary on offbeat topics of the day. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Flannery O’Connor said that stories about pious children tend to be false. She’s right, of course, but she doesn’t even say the half of it: stories about children in general tend to be false. The kids are always too brave, self-aware, or smart; they’re like the children in medieval paintings who look like miniature adults. If I Should Die Before I Wake (1952) by the Argentine director Carlos Hugo Christensen is the exception: it’s one of the best portrayals of childhood in film history as well as a truly disturbing thriller. If this film has piqued your interest in Argentine noir, check out David George and Gizella Meneses’ Argentine Cinema: From Noir to Neo-Noir to read more about this fascinating genre. Incredible bumper music by John Deley. Please subscribe to the show and consider leaving us a rating or review. You can find over three hundred episodes wherever you get your podcasts. Follow the show on X and on Letterboxd–and email us any time at [email protected] with requests and recommendations. Also check out Dan Moran’s substack, Pages and Frames, where he writes about books and movies, as well as his many film-related author interviews on The New Books Network. You can also check out Mike Takla’s substack, The Grumbler’s Almanac, for commentary on offbeat topics of the day. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Our episode on Moonstruck (1987) was almost never made: as with Manchester By the Sea, Dan harbored an irrational suspicion against it–but when he finally saw it, he sought forgiveness for the errors of his ways. That’s an appropriate theme to consider in light of a film saturated with Italian Catholicism that explores themes of sin and redemption, but with a light touch and in a celebratory mode. It’s a terrific film that couldn’t be made today; listen to the show to learn why. Ira Wells’s Norman Jewison: A Director’s Life is the 2021 biography of the director who worked with almost every A-list star but who also had to often battle the studios to pursue his projects. Incredible bumper music by John Deley. Please subscribe to the show and consider leaving us a rating or review. You can find over three hundred episodes wherever you get your podcasts. Follow the show on X and on Letterboxd–and email us any time at [email protected] with requests and recommendations. Also check out Dan Moran’s substack, Pages and Frames, where he writes about books and movies, as well as the many film-related interviews on The New Books Network. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Love and Mercy A film by Bill Pohlad Love and Mercy (2014) is a film that shows how the sausage is made, in terms of both the music and the man. We get to see Brian Wilson’s Kubrick-like devotion to getting Pet Sounds exactly like he wants it, as well as his becoming a whole person through the force of his future wife. The film is a nightmare version of Peter Pan, examining a boy who won’t grow up until he finds the two things mentioned in the title. We all know from history that he does, but the film still keeps us in suspense over whether or not Wilson will make it out of a prison he has unwittingly helped to create. Brian Wilson’s 2017 memoir, I Am Brian Wilson, is a perfect companion piece to Love and Mercy. Incredible bumper music by John Deley. Please subscribe to the show and consider leaving us a rating or review. You can find over three hundred episodes wherever you get your podcasts. Follow the show on X and on Letterboxd–and email us any time at [email protected] with requests and recommendations. Also check out Dan Moran’s substack, Pages and Frames, where he writes about books and movies, as well as the many film-related interviews on The New Books Network.  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

American Gangster (2007) is Ridley Scott’s homage to The French Connection: it’s got the right cars, clothes, and colors and is based on another true story of an obsessed cop trying to take down a drug kingpin. The feature (or the bug, depending on how you look at it) is Denzel Washington in the title role. Is an actor so charismatic that everyone talks as if they are on a first-name basis with him actually a liability in a movie that wants to tell a story of a large-scale heroin dealer who, in the movie’s first scene, burns a man alive? Can an actor’s star power ever backfire? John McCarty’s Bullets Over Hollywood (Grand Central Publishing, 2005) traces the gangster film and explores the enduring appeal of the genre. Incredible bumper music by John Deley. Please subscribe to the show and consider leaving us a rating or review. You can find over three hundred episodes wherever you get your podcasts. Follow the show on X and on Letterboxd–and email us any time at [email protected] with requests and recommendations. Also check out Dan Moran’s substack, Pages and Frames, where he writes about books and movies, as well as the many film-related interviews on The New Books Network. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

The eighth installment in one of the most entertaining franchises ever made, The Final Reckoning is Tom Cruise’s Return of the King. Whether it suffers from too much exposition is a matter of taste (and debated by the hosts), but both agree that the movie does what only its star can do: deliver thrills that derive from both the plot and the knowledge that what they are seeing is, in some sense, real. Buster Keaton, Jackie Chan, and Tom Cruise all make themselves as much of a character in the films as the fictional people they are portraying, which puts the viewer in a strange and wonderful place. Tom Cruise has saved the world yet again, and may (as Steven Spielberg told him) have saved the industry. Want to read about the first film in the franchise? Renowned film editor Paul Hersch’s memoir, A Long Time Ago in a Cutting Room Far, Far Away: My Fifty Years Editing Hollywood Hits–Star Wars, Carrie, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, Mission: Impossible, and More details his working with Brian DePalma on the first of the eight MI films. Incredible bumper music by John Deley. Please subscribe to the show and consider leaving us a rating or review. You can find over three hundred episodes wherever you get your podcasts. Follow the show on X and on Letterboxd–and email us any time at [email protected] with requests and recommendations. Also check out Dan Moran’s substack, Pages and Frames, where he writes about books and movies, as well as the many film-related interviews on The New Books Network. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Caper movies aren’t like others involving criminals: there’s an aesthetic to a caper that’s as important to the thieves as it is to the viewers. Heist is David Mamet’s 2001 caper film that stands as his Singin’ in the Rain—an apt comparison, since “caper” meant “to dance” long before it took on its criminal meaning. Join us for an appreciation of one of Gene Hackman’s best yet least-discussed performances and of Mamet’s highly unrealistic dialogue. (Yes, you read that correctly–and we love David Mamet.) David Mamet’s short book On Directing Film is a great companion to Heist. Incredible bumper music by John Deley. Please subscribe to the show and consider leaving us a rating or review. You can find our over three hundred episodes wherever you get your podcasts. Follow the show on X and on Letterboxd–and email us at [email protected] with requests and recommendations. Also check out Dan Moran’s substack, Pages and Frames, where he writes about books and movies, as well as the many film-related interviews on The New Books Network.  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

It’s our 300th episode and we honor a listener request for this milestone. The Fisher King (1991) could not be made today–not because of politics or cultural changes, but because it’s impossible to neatly classify. A love story, a tale of redemption, a disturbing study of psychosis, a romantic comedy, and an Artthurian quest, the film combines genres in ways that some audiences–or at least producers–might not appreciate. But the film is hilarious, frightening, and ultimately affirming of its two lead characters’ decisions to abandon their despair and find meaning in their lives. Interested in reading about Terry Gilliam? Check out this collection of interviews from the University of Mississippi Press. Incredible bumper music by John Deley. Please subscribe to the show and consider leaving us a rating or review. You can find our hundreds of episodes here on the New Books Network or wherever you get your podcasts. Follow the show on X and on Letterboxd–and email us at [email protected] with requests and recommendations. Also check out Dan Moran’s substack, Pages and Frames, where he writes about books and movies. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

“Some writers confuse authenticity, which they ought always to aim at, with originality, which they should never bother about.” So said W. H. Auden and so we see demonstrated in Michael Powell’s Peeping Tom (1960), which boldly employs every convention of the horror film in order to achieve a stunning, authentic portrait of a disturbing mind at work. But Mark is no ordinary slasher: he’s an artist who is also a perfectionist and whose compulsion to destroy is like the compulsion to create. As Mark gives his all for the sake of his art, so did Michael Powell, whose reputation never recovered from the scandal of this film. It was released in the same year as Psycho, which it resembles, yet the two audiences across the Atlantic had very different reactions to their homegrown killers. The University Press of Mississippi offers an excellent series of collected interviews. Here’s their volume on Michael Powell. Incredible bumper music by John Deley. Please subscribe to the show and consider leaving us a rating or review. You can find our hundreds of episodes here on the New Books Network or wherever you get your podcasts. Follow the show on X and on Letterboxd–and email us at [email protected] with requests and recommendations. Also check out Dan Moran’s substack, Pages and Frames, where he writes about books and movies. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Picasso said that art is a lie that helps us see the truth more clearly. Hamlet, Emma, and Citizen Kane are wonderfully constructed lies so convincing that we speak as if we knew their title characters. Peter Weir’s The Truman Show (1998) investigates how this strange phenomena occurs. Under what conditions could something authentic arise from artifice–and what does it mean to have an authentic experience anyway? We all say that we’d be better off living in the real world instead of a fool’s paradise–such as the Matrix–but how much do we really believe that? Join us for a conversation about a great work of art that shows how the sausage of art is made. The University Press of Mississippi offers an excellent series of collected interviews. Here’s their volume on Peter Weir. Incredible bumper music by John Deley. Please subscribe to the show and consider leaving us a rating or review. You can find our hundreds of episodes here on the New Books Network or wherever you get your podcasts. Follow the show on X and on Letterboxd–and email us at [email protected] with requests and recommendations. Also check out Dan Moran’s substack Pages and Frames where he writes about books and movies. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In Walden (1854), Henry David Thoreau said he wanted to “drive life into a corner” and “reduce it to its lowest terms.” We often feel the appeal of that idea: to get away from civilization and really “live.” But would that always be a pleasurable series of epiphanies? Would the natural world always provide a backdrop against which we could explore our “real” selves? Thoureau also said that “a man is free in proportion to the number of things he can let alone.” Sounds good–unless that freedom from society and materialism reduces one to a new and worse kind of servant. Hiroshi Teshigahara’s Woman in the Dunes (1964) toys with these questions while simultaneously keeping its audience surprised and off-balance. It’s a movie in which everything is buried in sand and the sand is a metaphor for everything. Woman in the Dunes is based on Kobo Ave’s novel, which you can find here. Incredible bumper music by John Deley. Please consider leaving us a rating or review. You can find our hundreds of episodes here on the New Books Network. Follow the show on X and on Letterboxd–and email us at [email protected] with requests and recommendations. Also check out Dan’s substack Pages and Frames where he writes about books and movies. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Every Western since Stagecoach seems to have been touted as “about the western.” To what degree is that true for Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, George Roy Hill’s 1969 contribution to the genre? Join Mike and Dan for a conversation about how the film wonderfully reminds its viewers why they love westerns as it also offers its more hip viewers a vision of an alternative lifestyle–think Easy Rider with horses. Tom Clavin’s Bandit Heaven: The Hole-in-the-Wall Gangs and the Final Chapter of the Wild West is a look at the real-life Butch Cassidy, Sundance, Etta, and others. You can hear Dan’s interview with Tom Clavin here on the New Books Network. Incredible bumper music by John Deley. Please consider leaving us a rating or review. You can find our hundreds of episodes here on the New Books Network. Follow the show on X and on Letterboxd–and email us at [email protected] with requests and recommendations. Also check out Dan’s substack Pages and Frames where he writes about the connections between books and movies. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

When George V. Higgins’s first novel, The Friends of Eddie Coyle, was published in 1970, it was widely acclaimed as an insider’s look at Boston’s criminal underbelly. Three years later, Peter Yates directed Robert Mitchum in one of his best performances as the mid-level gunrunner who is tempted to help “uncle” by turning in his associates to the cops. Join Mike and Dan as they talk about how Robert Mitchum eating pie is better than a thousand bank robberies and how the dialogue for which Higgins is so rightly praised is like the kind of negotiations we make all the time at work, regardless of what we’re selling. Hide the irons inside that rustling shopping bag and give it a listen! If you’re interested in the terrific novel upon which the film is based, you can find it here. Incredible bumper music by John Deley. Please leave us a rating or review, follow us on X and Letterboxd, email us at [email protected], and let us know what you’d like us to watch and discuss. Also check out Dan’s Substack site, Pages and Frames, for essays about books and films. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Imagine you’re in a bar, holding forth about the news of the day–maybe it’s 1985 and, like everyone else, you’re talking about Iran-Contra, Oliver North, and the CIA. As you signal to the bartender that you’re ready for another, an unassuming, somewhat chubby guy next to you smiles and says, “You really want to know how all of that went down?” Then he begins a two-hour monologue that gets crazier every twenty minutes. American Made is that monologue, shot with all the speed and adrenaline as its artistic model, Goodfellas. Mike and Dan talk about why the immediacy of first-person narrative works so well here and why it wouldn’t work at all with other people’s stories. So bury that duffel bag of cash and then give it a listen! Those interested in a less cinematic look at Iran-Contra may want to read Firewall by Lawrence E. Walsh or Del Hahn’s Smuggler’s End:The Life and Death of Barry Seal. Follow us on X and Letterboxd–and let us know what you’d like us to watch! Incredible bumper music by John Deley. Also check out Dan’s new Substack site, Pages and Frames, for essays and short pieces about books and films. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

All of the nearly three hundred episodes we’ve done so far have been enthusiastic celebrations of artists whose work we admire so greatly that we had to invent a podcast to talk about it. But in this very strange episode, we talk about a film so awful in so many ways that we are baffled by how it came from the same man who directed four unquestionable masterpieces in a row. The Rainmaker (1997) is–and we mean this without irony–a fascinating film that does everything that films like The Conversation and The Godfather Part II avoid. It works on paper: there’s Coppola, of course, but also a bestseller as its source material, Matt Damon, Claire Danes, Mickey Roarke, Danny DeVito, Jon Voight, Danny Glover, and (inexplicably) Roy Scheider. But even Sheriff Brody can’t kill this beast. Rather than offer a litany of complaints, we talk about the concept of a “shadow movie”: the movie that could have been, the one lurking beneath the film we actually see. This is the only episode in which we don’t follow our usual three-part structure, because we didn’t know if we’d be releasing this one. But we think that we can learn more about films from even one as terrible as this. If you’re interested in the source for Coppola’s film, you can find the novel here. Incredible bumper music by John Deley. Please leave us a rating or review, follow us on X and Letterboxd, email us at [email protected], and let us know what you’d like us to watch and discuss. Also check out Dan’s Substack site, Pages and Frames, for essays about books and films. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Every movie in our current moment, regardless of quality, seems to have spawned sequels, prequels, and reboots; in this episode, we lament that the one film that we wish had been the beginning of a series didn’t make enough money to do so. Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World, Peter Weir’s 2003 adaptation of Patrick O’Brien’s novels, is rich, unironic, and inspiring; it’s a study of leadership, the tension between technology and human skill, and the ways in which discipline and restraint yield more genuine emotion that what we see now, when people post about their “struggles” every thirty seconds. Join us for a conversation about a film that makes its viewers wonder how they would fare as sailors and that makes them think about the shortcomings of their bosses. The film is based on Patrick O’Brien’s Aubrey / Maturin series; Master and Commander is the novel in which the captain and doctor meet. Follow us on X and Letterboxd–and let us know what you’d like us to watch! Incredible bumper music by John Deley. Also check out Dan’s new Substack site, Pages and Frames, for essays and short pieces about books and films. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

The opening scene of Miller’s Crossing (1990) tells the viewer that the film to follow is about friendship, character, and ethics–and it is, but done in such a way that the first-time viewer cannot fully appreciate the ways in which its protagonist, Tom Reagan (Gabriel Byrne), acts as if these are his private religion: a set of beliefs so secret that other characters, the viewer, and even, at times, Tom himself cannot fully articulate. That sounds very highfalutin’, but the film is also a joyful homage to the kinds of books and movies the Coen brothers enjoy. It’s also their best, which is a difficult call to make with a resume as strong as theirs. So pour yourself a glass of bootleg whisky and give it a listen! Gabriel Byrne’s 2021 memoir Walking with Ghosts is a cut above celebrity memoirs and worth a read, even if all you know of him is Miller’s Crossing or Hereditary. Follow us on X and Letterboxd–and let us know what you’d like us to watch! Incredible bumper music is usually by John Deley. Also check out Dan’s new Substack site, Pages and Frames, for essays and short pieces about books and films. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Just as horror films are filled with characters who never seem quite enough afraid, crime films are filled with protagonists who, at the end of the movie, never seem quite enough affected by what they have seen or unleashed. Not here. Fritz Lang’s The Big Heat (1953) follows the attempts of one cop, Steve Bannion (Glenn Ford), to clean up his department and city’s corruption. He does, but at a terrible cost. Join us for an appreciation of a noir that offers a world of moral black and white and a man who refuses to pretend there are shades of grey–until he finds himself with his hands around someone’s neck. Fans of Fritz Lang will enjoy this collection of interviews with the director. Follow us on X and Letterboxd–and let us know what you’d like us to watch! Incredible bumper music is usually by John Deley; this week, it’s from the Inside Llewyn Davis soundtrack. Also check out Dan’s new Substack site, Pages and Frames, for an essay about this film and more writing about books and films. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Authenticity is the factor that lets an artist connect with an audience. All the great performers have (or had) it: the Clancy Brothers make listeners feel Irish, Bob Dylan brings them along into his lifelong grudge against the world, and Pete Seeger makes them feel like they know what it’s like to be on the losing end of things, even if they are listening to “Talking Union” in an upper-East-side penthouse on $700 headphones. The title character of Inside Llewyn Davis (2013) values authenticity above everything else, but still can’t connect with an audience. What’s it like to be a folk singer who can’t bring himself down to the folk, even when he’s as talented as Llewyn? Join us for a conversation about the Coens’ look at an artist whose refusal to compromise hides his voice from listeners who would love it if they could only hear it. The film’s published screenplay includes the complete script, song lyrics, and an interview with executive music producer T. Bone Burnett. Follow us on X and Letterboxd–and let us know what you’d like us to watch! Incredible bumper music is usually by John Deley; this week, it’s from the Inside Llewyn Davis soundtrack. Also check out Dan’s new Substack site, Pages and Frames, for an essay about this film and more writing about books and films. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

A Serious Man (2009) may seem much different from the Coens’ adaptation of No Country for Old Men, which they released two years earlier. But they both concern a likable man who finds himself posing questions that the universe–or any of its weisest men–cannot answer. And even if there are glimpses of answers to the question “What does Hashem, or God, want,” neither late-thirties Larry or late-sixties Sheriff Bell can read the writing on the wall (or, in the case of A Serious Man, the writing on the teeth). The film begins with a quotation from Rumi, “Receive with simplicity everything that happens to you.” Join us for a conversation about one of the Coens’ best films and a terrific look at people to whom things happen and are forced to receive the will of a God who never tips His hand about His intentions. There’s been a great deal written about Joel and Ethan Coen; if you want to hear them talk about their work in their own words, check out this collection of interviews. Follow us on X and Letterboxd–and let us know what you’d like us to watch! Incredible bumper music by John Deley. Also check out Dan’s new Substack site, Pages and Frames, for more film-related material. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Actors win awards and gain our admiration when they convince us that they have “become” someone else–it’s what we mean when we say that so-and-so “inhabits” a role. But that’s not the only benchmark: a good actor is also someone whose statements are interesting to hear and whose voice engages the listener, whether or not we “believe” that he’s really Charles Foster Kane or Norman Bates. That’s how Mike approaches James Woods in True Believer (1989). He and Dan also talk about the title and how it reflects an element of the film more interesting than the mystery at the heart of its plot. So grab that hair tie, fix that ponytail, and give it a listen! James Woods’s character, Eddie Dodd, is based upon the lawyer Tony Serra; you might be interested in this recent biography of him. Follow us on X and Letterboxd–and let us know what you’d like us to watch! Incredible bumper music by John Deley. Also check out Dan’s new Substack site, Pages and Frames, for more film-related material. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Political noise is as American as baseball and apple pie and in this election season it’s impossible to tune it out completely: it’s on our televisions, radios, phones, and computers. Brian DePalma’s Blow Out (1981) follows a man who is able to hear something underneath all the noise: a perfect character to think about this election season. The real debate for Mike and Dan is whether or not the film makes a statement about the United States and each takes a different side. But they do agree that Blow Out is a wonderful downer and one of DePalma’s best. In this episode, Mike mentions Don DeLillo’s Underworld, which offers a conspiratorial tone that contrasts with the one that marks Blow Out. Follow us on X and Letterboxd–and let us know what you’d like us to watch! Incredible bumper music by John Deley. Also check out Dan’s new Substack site, Pages and Frames, for more film-related material. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

There’s a moment in The Fly (1986) in which Seth Brundle–well into his transformation into Brundlefly–explains that he must vomit on a donut before eating it. The camera cuts away to show Geena Davis’s reaction, which is the same reaction David Cronenberg evokes in his viewers throughout the film. Grotesque yet surprisingly moving, The Fly is more than disturbing, wonderful makeup: it’s a look at a brilliant man who cannot understand the limits of his own vision, like his colleagues Drs. Faustus, Jekyll, and Frankenstien. Interested in hearing what Cronenberg himself has to say about The Fly and his other films? Check out this collection of interviews. Follow us on X and Letterboxd–and let us know what you’d like us to watch! Incredible bumper music by John Deley. Also check out Dan’s new Substack site, Pages and Frames, for more film-related material. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

You can’t judge a book by its cover or a movie by its poster. When Mike suggested Manchester by the Sea (2016) for the pod, Dan hooted and derided his co-host as a lover of Hallmark Holiday Classics. But after he watched Kenneth Lonergan’s brutal and sobering examination of unquenchable grief, he admitted his mistake. Join us for a conversation about a film that was mismarketed as a Man Who Learns Life Lessons matinee but which offers some of the best and most restrained performances either has seen in a long time. IMDB describes it with, “A depressed uncle is asked to take care of his teenage nephew after the boy’s father dies,” but that’s like describing Citizen Kane with, “A wealthy media tycoon finds that money can’t buy happiness.” Kenneth Lonergan’s screenplay for Manchester by the Sea can be found here; it includes an essay by Lonergan about the film. Follow us on X and Letterboxd–and let us know what you’d like us to watch! Incredible bumper music by John Deley. Also check out Dan’s new Substack site, Pages and Frames, for more film-related material. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

The second-best movie based on an Elmore Leonard novel, Out of Sight (1998) does what Netflix and other platforms try to do all the time: throw a bunch of stars together in an effort to increase the quality of the “content.” But those half-assed efforts never come close to Out of Sight, which has a roster of A-list actors, a terrific screenplay based on quality source material, a great score, and a director who makes us feel as cool as his characters. Like Mozart, Steven Soderbergh makes complicated artistic maneuvers look effortless–and like Elmore Leonard, Soderbergh knows the difference between good bad guys and bad bad guys. Out of Sight was adapted by Scott Frank from Elmore Leonard’s 1996 novel, found here. Follow us on X and Letterboxd–and let us know what you’d like us to watch! Incredible bumper music by John Deley. Also check out Dan’s new Substack site, Pages and Frames, for more film-related material. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Robert Benton’s 1979 interior drama turned out to be one of the biggest films of the 70s. While we might appreciate Dustn Hoffman now more often than we watch his movies, this marked another example of him owning the decade. It’s his movie, despite the attempt to give balance to the two Kramers fighting for the legal and moral right to raise their son. If you haven’t seen this since it played in theaters for months and then became a cable-TV staple, it’s worth rewatching; if you’ve never seen it, give it a look. Either way, be sure to listen to our conversation (and debate) about it once you finish. Kramer vs. Kramer was adapted from Avery Corman’s bestselling novel, found here. Follow us on X and Letterboxd–and let us know what you’d like us to watch! Incredible bumper music by John Deley. Also check out Dan’s new Substack site, Pages and Frames, for more film-related material. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

For years, Dan avoided this movie, fearing it was like a Hallmark Holiday Classic or Very Special Episode of Mad About You. But after our episode on Broadcast News, Mike insisted Dan give it a watch. Join us as we talk about the ways in which the film surfs just above the sharks of sentimentality that threaten it at every plot point and offers a great combination of characters, problems, and new problems once original ones are solved. Patrick McGilligan’s Jack’s Life: A Biography of Jack Nicholson and Marc Eliot’s Nicholson are good starting points if you’re interested in the life of the actor. Follow us on X and Letterboxd–and let us know what you’d like us to watch! Incredible bumper music by John Deley. Also check out Dan’s new Substack site, Pages and Frames, for more film-related material. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Strangers on a Train (1951) may not be an “obvious Hitchcock” like Vertigo, Rear Window, or North by Northwest, but it’s fascinating, rewatchable, and has everything we love in the Hitchcock canon. When Guy Haines (Farley Granger) meets Bruno Antony (Robert Walker), he learns that he might not know himself as well as he thought he did. The whole film is like a ride on the carousel at the end and we’re like the screaming kids, afraid and loving it. Hop on! Strangers on a Train is based upon Patricia Highsnith’s novel, which you can find here. Follow us on X and Letterboxd–and let us know what you’d like us to watch! Incredible bumper music by John Deley. Also check out Dan’s new Substack site, Pages and Frames, for more film-related material, including a recent essay and interview about Hitchcock, Coleridge, and Strangers on a Train. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Has your day today been worth narating? If it were retold in the pages of a novel, would anyone read it? Are you worthy of narration? Most of us would say that we weren’t, but that’s not the case for Jack Manfred, the title character of Croupier, Mike Hodges’ 1998 film about authorship and narcissism. Jack thinks that one must be a gambler or a croupier: one can either try to bend the universe to do what he wants it to do–or know that that’s impossible and revel in watching the losers. But is there a middle way? In the episode, Dan mentions Steven and Frederick Barthelme’s Double Down: a terrific memoir of gambling and loss. It’s a true page-turner. Follow us on X and Letterboxd–and let us know what you’d like us to watch! Incredible bumper music by John Deley. Also check out Dan’s new Substack site, Pages and Frames, for more film-related material. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

If L. A. Confidential (1997) were two degrees campier, it would seem like Dick Tracy–but Curtis Hanson made sure to capture the spirit of James Ellroy’s novel while making its labyrinth plot understandable to viewers. Join us for a conversation about how the film examines the need for heroes yet seems to only offer them in a way to which the movies have made us accustomed. Sunlight may be the best disinfectant, but how much sunlight do we really want illuminating the institutions that hold society together? Do we want to live in Chinatown or on the set of Badge of Honor? If you haven’t read James Ellroy’s novel, you can find it here, as well as Steven Powell’s new biography of James Ellroy, Love Me Fierce in Danger. You can also listen to Dan’s interview with Steven Powell here on the New Books Network, as well as a conversation between Dan and Steven about L. A. Confidential on the page and screen. Follow us on X and Letterboxd–and let us know what you’d like us to watch! Incredible bumper music by John Deley. Also check out Dan’s new Substack site, Pages and Frames, for more film-related material. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

A Fistful of Dollars (1964), For a Few Dollars More (1965), and The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly (1966) are collectively known as “The Man with No Name” trilogy and are often thought of as one long movie about the hero’s adventures, much like we think of the original three installments of Indiana Jones. Quentin Tarantino has called the third film the most well-directed film ever made, but Mike contends that For a Few Dollars More is superior to the other two. Join us for a conversation about this most dreamlike of Westerns that operates like a buddy-cop movie and reminds us the question posed by classicists, “Could Achilles beat Odysseus in a fight?” In other words, who would be more afraid of angering: Clint Eastwood or Lee Van Cleef? If you’re interested in learning more about Leone’s work, you might want to read Alireza Vahdani’s The Hero and the Grave: The Theme of Death in the Films of John Ford, Akira Kurosawa and Sergio Leone. Follow us on X and Letterboxd–and let us know what you’d like us to watch! Incredible bumper music by John Deley. Also check out Dan’s new Substack site, Pages and Frames, for more film-related material. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Howard Hawks’s To Have and Have Not (1944) is more Hollywood than Hemingway–something for which we should all be grateful. The film is a wonderful example–perhaps the best–of onscreen chemistry and remains wildly entertaining even aside from the onscreen courtship of Bogart and Bacall. Join us as we talk about banter as a tool of seduction, the ways in which films let us “borrow the nature” of their actors, how To Have and Have Not feels like Casablanca II, and if Howard Hawks has an odd obsession with Hoagy Carmichael. In this episode, Dan mentions William J. Mann’s recent book Bogie and Bacall, a terrific dual biography of the stars. You can hear Dan’s interview of the author here. And if you don’t believe that the source material for the film is as bad as we say it is, you can find Hemingway’s novel here. Follow us on X and Letterboxd–and let us know what you’d like us to watch! Incredible bumper music by John Deley. Also check out Dan’s new Substack site, Pages and Frames, for more film-related material. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices