#509: Captive Audiences, Pt. 2 — Dead Man's Wire

Even without Al Pacino's name in its cast list, the new Dead Man's Wire would invite comparisons to Dog Day Afternoon in its dramatization of a real-life 1970s hostage situation turned public spectacle. Whether it benefits from comparisons to Sidney Lumet's 1975 crime classic is another question, one we take up in our discussion of Gus Van Sant's first new feature in eight years. After that, we bring Dog Day Afternoon back in for Connections, to consider how these two films about volatile, narcissistic men and their ostensibly populist schemes fit into the proud tradition of amateur-hour crime movies, and whether a modern film depicting Indianapolis half a century ago has any hope of evoking its setting the way Lumet captured contemporary 1970s New York. Please share your thoughts about Dog Day Afternoon, Dead Man's Wire, or anything else in the world of film, by sending an email or voice memo to [email protected], or leaving a short voicemail at (773) 234-9730. Next pairing: Sam Raimi's Send Help and Lina Wurtmuller's Swept Away. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In adapting the true story about a '70s hostage crisis that played out on television and in the public eye, Gus Van Sant's new Dead Man's Wire is just asking to be compared to 1975's Dog Day Afternoon — and who are we to resist an invitation to talk about yet another Sidney Lumet classic? So this week we revisit a film we have all previously seen and admired, but still has the ability to surprise with its unconventional approach to a bank robbery gone wrong, from its persistent sense of humor to its shifting perspective on Al Pacino's criminal protagonist. Then in Feedback, we continue the conversation about our podcast's namesake film, and answer a recurring question about our archives. Please share your thoughts about Dog Day Afternoon, Dead Man's Wire, or anything else in the world of film, by sending an email or voice memo to [email protected], or leaving a short voicemail at (773) 234-9730. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

We’re kicking off the new year with our old tradition of looking back on the film year that was, as Scott, Keith, and Tasha gather to talk through their top films of 2025. After touching on some of last year’s broader filmgoing trends and blitzing through the bottom half of their top 10 lists, they talk through their respective top fives, which include several Next Picture Show selections from the last year, as well as a few curveball picks that appear on no other lists. Next Pairing: Gus Van Sant’s Dead Man’s Wire and Sidney Lumet’s Dog Day Afternoon Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Due to the confluence of holiday and flu seasons, our Best of 2025 episode is delayed a week, so in its place we're sharing a recent episode of The Lobby, our Patreon-exclusive series focusing on movies we don't cover on the main feed. If you'd like to become a Patreon supporter and get ad-free versions of the show, as well as more bonus content like this, you can head over to patreon.com/nextpictureshow to sign up. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Whether he’s playing billiards or table tennis, a successful hustler requires no small amount of charisma, something Timothée Chalamet’s ping-pong pro undeniably has in Marty Supreme, though it’s of a decidedly different flavor than that of Paul Newman in The Hustler. Whether that charisma translates to a character we want to root for as he makes a mess of his own life, as well as those of the people (and one unfortunate dog) around him, is up for debate in our discussion of Josh Safdie’s new anxiety attack in movie form. Then we pit Marty’s game against Fast Eddie’s as we move into Connections to discuss the magic and morality of hustling, charismatic liars and the women who are drawn to them — even when they can see right through them — and whether these men chasing victory on their own terms, and at the cost of everything else, is inspirational or pitiful. Then in Your Next Picture Show, Scott sticks up for The Color of Money, Scorsese's Hustler sequel that can’t quite best its predecessor, but still has plenty of swagger all its own.  Please share your thoughts about The Hustler, Marty Supreme, or anything else in the world of film, by sending an email or voice memo to [email protected], or leaving a short voicemail at (773) 234-9730. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

The new Marty Supreme follows a table-tennis phenom with the talent necessary to beat the best players in the world, if only he can keep his self-destructive tendencies from getting in the way. Swap out “table tennis” for “pool” in that description and you more or less have Robert Rossen’s 1961 drama The Hustler, which we revisit this week not only to bask in the incomparable onscreen charisma of Paul Newman, but also to consider the film’s ideas about what makes a winner — and a loser — and its noir-adjacent portrait of the gambling underworld. Then, in place of Feedback this week, we’re reflecting on the late Rob Reiner’s legacy on screens both big and small, and within an industry he helped shape in countless ways.  Please share your thoughts about The Hustler, Marty Supreme, or anything else in the world of film, by sending an email or voice memo to [email protected], or leaving a short voicemail at (773) 234-9730. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

David Freyne’s new Eternity shoves a thematically rich afterlife scenario into a romcom-shaped container, resulting in an above-average example of the genre that nonetheless feels like it’s only scratching the surface of its narrative potential. That leaves us with a lot of logistical questions to mull in our discussion of the film — several of which Tasha addressed in her pair of conversations with Freyne over at Polygon — and also a lot of points of contrast when we bring Hirokazu Kore-eda’s After Life back in for Connections. After Life and Eternity look and feel very different as they navigate the ins and outs of their respective postmortem bureaucracies, but both are ultimately concerned with characters being forced to make a single choice that will define their afterlives, what that choice says about what truly matters, and what the things we most value say about us.  Those ideas pop up again in Your Next Picture Show, where Tasha offers an enthusiastic recommendation for the 2020 Edson Oda film Nine Days as an unofficial companion piece to After Life. Please share your thoughts about After Life, Eternity, or anything else in the world of film, by sending an email or voice memo to [email protected], or leaving a short voicemail at (773) 234-9730. Next Pairing: Josh Safdie’s Marty Supreme and Robert Rossen's The Hustler Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

The new fantasy romcom Eternity turns on a scenario familiar from any number of films that imagine life after death as a bureaucratic process, but its focus on characters forced to make big, symbolic choices for big, symbolic reasons is particularly reminiscent of After Life, Hirokazu Kore-eda’s 1998 movie in which the recently departed are given one week to select a memory to take with them into the great beyond. While the functional logistics of After Life’s post-life waystation are ultimately secondary to its heady ideas about memory and filmmaking, that doesn’t stop us from talking through the ways this specific setting informs those ideas, and the various questions that arise from it. Then in Feedback, we tackle a listener’s consternation with some of the choices Train Dreams makes in adapting its source material.  Please share your thoughts about After Life, Eternity, or anything else in the world of film, by sending an email or voice memo to [email protected], or leaving a short voicemail at (773) 234-9730. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Clint Bentley’s Train Dreams uses gorgeous imagery of the natural world, combined with an omniscient narrator quoting from the Denis Johnson novella the film adapts, to speak for a taciturn protagonist who struggles to understand, much less articulate, his place in the world. That approach has earned it the Terrence Malick comparisons that informed this pairing, but Train Dreams uses its own distinct lens to contemplate the ineffable and ephemeral nature of human existence. So after talking through our responses to the film’s big-picture ideas and small, telling details, we place Train Dreams alongside Days of Heaven to discuss the two films’ contrasting approaches to their overlapping elements, from persistent voiceover and big beautiful vistas, to man’s presumed dominion over nature and the biblical infernos that suggest otherwise. Then for Your Next Picture Show, Keith offers a Days of Heaven-inspired recommendation for very different film featuring a similarly memorable performance from Linda Manz, 1980’s Out of the Blue Please share your thoughts about Days of Heaven, Train Dreams, or anything else in the world of film, by sending an email or voice memo to [email protected], or leaving a short voicemail at (773) 234-9730. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Clint Bentley’s new Train Dreams uses the vast canvas of the natural world to frame a relatively tiny story of a single human life, a juxtaposition of story and visuals that’s reminiscent of the work of Terrence Malick, in particular 1978’s Days of Heaven. Set, like Train Dreams, in the midst of America’s Industrial Revolution, Days of Heaven takes an elliptical approach to a fairly straightforward narrative that is pure Malick, leaving us with much to discuss in terms of whose story this is, and what the film’s sparse dialogue and unusual narration leaves unsaid. Then in Feedback, we share some quick reactions to a handful on new releases we won’t be covering on the show, and address a listener suggestion for an alternate One Battle After Another pairing.  Please share your thoughts about Days of Heaven, Train Dreams, or anything else in the world of film, by sending an email or voice memo to [email protected], or leaving a short voicemail at (773) 234-9730. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices