Inside Man (2006)

Sometimes On Demand turns up trumps. I vaguely remember when this Denzel Washington/Jodie Foster/Clive Owen thriller came out, but never seriously considered seeing it. What I forgot was that I should always see a Spike Lee movie if I can. The thing that's so great about Lee is that he clearly loves making movies. He is apparently only worried that each one will be his last; at least, that's how I explain the exuberance with which he stuffs them full of everything he can think of. In this case he takes what would, in any other hands, have been a slick, sort of interesting heist picture, and turns it into a wild tapestry. Lee's faults are his virtues. Sure, lots of stuff doesn't really cohere or go anywhere, but I don't begrudge a director a little messiness in the service of a fascination with people. The cop describing being shot by a twelve year old? Has nothing to do with the plot, illuminates a character with no particular relevance to the story, and meanders into a little dance about who is allowed to use what words in talking about race—and thank goodness! Lee has time for that cop and his story and his context and I couldn't be happier about it. At the end of the movie he puts together a montage of "The Players" which includes not only the leads but every last person the movie showed us; it's just marvelous. Also, Clive Owen is totally dreamy.