I revisit Semi-Tough (1977), a film that promised a lot on paper — Burt Reynolds, Kris Kristofferson, Jill Clayburgh, professional football, romance and self-help gurus. What surprised me was that the story itself wasn’t what stayed with me. Instead, it became a fascinating time capsule of late-1970s America, from the fashions and music to the changing attitudes and search for self-improvement.

While the film never quite reaches the heights its cast suggests it should, it gave me plenty to think about — especially Burt Reynolds’ movie-star persona, Michael Ritchie’s approach to satire, and the discovery that Jill Clayburgh may be the film’s biggest strength.

I revisit Lenny (1974) and came away even more convinced that this is one of Dustin Hoffman’s finest performances. Whether or not it perfectly captures the real Lenny Bruce almost doesn’t matter—Hoffman completely inhabits the role, taking us through the comedian’s wit, anger, vulnerability and eventual collapse. Bob Fosse’s understated direction and striking black-and-white cinematography create an honest portrait of a man who seemed born just a little too early, challenging social hypocrisy long before the world was ready to listen. It’s a powerful character study that also made me appreciate Valerie Perrine’s brave and deeply affecting performance.

In this episode of Dave’s Movie Diary, I revisit River’s Edge (1986), a film that still feels incredibly unsettling nearly forty years later. The murder itself happens before the film even begins — the real shock comes from watching how casually many of the teenagers respond afterwards, with some more concerned about protecting the killer than dealing with what has happened.

I look back at my first experience with the film as a teenager, the performances of Keanu Reeves, Ione Skye, Dennis Hopper and Crispin Glover, and the way Tim Hunter captures a generation of young people growing up with a frightening lack of guidance, connection and emotional responsibility.

In this episode of Dave’s Movie Diary, I revisit John Milius’ Dillinger (1973), a crime film that feels less like a Hollywood gangster movie and more like a gritty historical reconstruction. I talk about Warren Oates’ outstanding performance, the incredible supporting cast including Richard Dreyfuss, Ben Johnson and Harry Dean Stanton, and why the film captures the end of the American outlaw era so effectively. I also compare it with Bonnie and Clyde and explore how the mythology of the Wild West continued well into the 20th century.

I revisit Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978), a science-fiction classic that I think deserves to be mentioned alongside the very best dystopian films ever made. Even knowing the famous ending, the film is just as gripping because it’s the journey that counts. I talk about Philip Kaufman’s brilliant direction, Donald Sutherland and Brooke Adams’ performances, the eerie atmosphere created by Jerry Goldsmith’s score, and why the film’s themes of paranoia, conformity and losing your identity still feel remarkably relevant today. Nearly 50 years on, this intelligent, unsettling thriller hasn’t lost any of its power.

Revisiting Paths of Glory nearly 30 years after first seeing it, I found Stanley Kubrick’s early masterpiece just as powerful as I remembered. More than a war film, it’s a devastating examination of leadership, injustice and the human cost of impossible decisions. I also take another look at Kirk Douglas’s outstanding performance, Kubrick’s emerging filmmaking style, and why this remains one of the greatest anti-war films ever made.

Today I’m revisiting Secretary, a film I first saw around the time of its release and remembered as something completely different from anything else around.

What surprised me this time is how much it’s really a story about two people finding acceptance in a relationship that doesn’t fit conventional expectations. Maggie Gyllenhaal gives an incredible breakthrough performance, with James Spader perfectly suited to another of his controlled, emotionally damaged characters.

It’s funny, uncomfortable, occasionally strange, and probably a little too long, but it’s also a remarkably brave film that treats an unconventional relationship with far more warmth and honesty than you might expect.

Erskineville Kings turned out to be much more than a nostalgic trip back to Sydney in 1999. I revisit this gritty Australian drama and explore why it captures a version of inner-city Sydney that no longer exists, while arguing that Hugh Jackman delivers one of the finest performances of his career as a deeply conflicted man carrying enormous guilt and grief. It’s an honest, emotionally raw film that deserves to be remembered.

In this episode of Dave’s Movie Diary, I revisit Kiss the Girls (1997), a film that arrived during what I still think was one of the greatest years at the movies. The late 90s were full of serial killer thrillers, and this was one of the better examples of the genre, with Morgan Freeman bringing Alex Cross to life and Ashley Judd delivering a fantastic performance as a survivor fighting to escape.

I look back at why these films were such a big part of the culture at the time, whether Kiss the Girls still works when you already know the identity of the killer, and how it holds up alongside other thrillers from that era. A glossy, entertaining and well-crafted thriller that remains a fascinating snapshot of 1997.

I revisit Malice (1993), a 90s thriller I barely remembered but found much more clever and entertaining than expected. With a great cast led by Alec Baldwin, Nicole Kidman and Bill Pullman, the film keeps you guessing with its twists, red herrings and shifting loyalties. Baldwin is perfectly cast as the confident, charismatic surgeon who may not be exactly what he seems, while Kidman shows the range that would define the next stage of her career. A reminder of the kind of smart, adult thrillers Hollywood used to make.