"After Hours" (1985)

"After Hours" is a near-perfect black comedy from an unlikely source: Martin Scorsese, the director who's previously given us such rib-ticklers as "Raging Bull," "Mean Streets" and "Taxi Driver." In this satire of urban paranoia, Scorsese hits the right note from the very first scene and, with the help of a brilliant cast, accomplishes an exceptionally difficult task, creating a comedy that's both uproariously funny (often in a most uncomfortable way) and deeply disturbing at the same time.

Paul (Griffin Dunne) is a word-processor who lives alone in Manhattan. When he runs into an attractive, alluring blonde named Marcie (Rosanna Arquette) in a coffee shop, he decides to make a date and sets in motion the wheels that will ultimately crush him. During his harrowing journey to Marcie's Soho loft -- and the hair-raising trip back -- he runs afoul of almost every kind of disaster imaginable: lost money; heartless subway token vendors; militant gays who mistake him for a criminal; punkers who want to give him a Mohawk; nasty ice cream men; and even a ditzy cocktail waitress (beautifully played by Teri Garr in a sky-high beehive) who subjects Paul to her collection of Monkees records.

Dunne is wonderful as the quintessential schmuck and Arquette, in her fourth movie this year, sparkles as the tempting but twisted Marcie, whose constant confessions are hysterically bizarre. Michael Ballhaus' magnificent photography makes this a banquet for the eyes as well. "After Hours" is so relentlessly sardonic some people won't make it through to the end, but those who do will find this weird, jarring and often hilarious film is an experience they won't be able to shake off.