That Thing You Do!
(1996)
Jesus H. Pop Christ, is there a more exhilarating 150 seconds of cinema than from 30:30 to 33:00 here?
And you know, after several viewings, I've come to the conclusion that this is actually a very good film--well directed and well shaped (and I'm not even talking about the cleavage of the writer/director's wife, in her fine few minutes as a cocktail waitress, though the adjectives apply there too), its emotions earned. In short, I hereby stop apologizing for loving this film, and for weeping during that key 2½ minutes.
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