After Hours

I was 19 when I saw AFTER HOURS in 1985. Back then, I thought it was funny as hell. But as a 54-year-old man, I can appreciate it even more.

In my 3.5 decades between my viewings, I've been to New York City many times, read Henry Miller, become familiar with the doo-wop songs on the barroom's jukebox, and (unfortunately) dated women who reminded me entirely too much of Marcy, Julie, and Gail. On the other hand: to date, I've been lucky enough to never be stalked by a vigilante lynch mob (unless you count Facebook). And the Mister Softee truck was a riotous touch!

I agree with the reviewers who call AFTER HOURS the most underrated Scorsese film. It features elements of what already him a great director, as well as glimpses into the future career of this master filmmaker.