Reservoir Dogs (1992)

A heist movie that skips the heist is either a genius move or a budget problem, and Reservoir Dogs is somehow both. Quentin Tarantino puts a bunch of guys in matching black suits into one warehouse and lets them yell at each other until the truth falls out. It plays like a stage play, and some of the talky stretches feel like one. The breakfast argument about tipping is still the best opening chat in crime movies, and Steve Buscemi’s Mr. Pink treats every crisis like a customer service complaint. Harvey Keitel brings the heart, which is a weird thing to say about a guy named after a color. Michael Madsen is calm in a way that makes your skin crawl, and one scene set to a cheerful oldies song is cruel enough that the camera looks away. It made just $2.94 million worldwide in theaters. An 8.6 because 99 minutes is all it needs. $216 says you assign everybody in your group chat a color and nobody agrees to be Pink.

What works: Razor sharp dialogue, a cast that keeps raising the temperature, and a lean runtime with no wasted scenes.

What doesn’t: It’s very much a filmed stage play, and a couple of the talkier stretches slow the tension right when it should tighten.

Who it’s for: Crime fans who care more about the arguing in the getaway car than the getaway itself.