The first movie of my life that I didn't end it cause it was horrible and very very boring with stupid dialogues

There's a lot to like about this film. Ed Norton is in fine form and Spike Lee is possibly at his best here and their contributions to this film should not be diminished ... but, I feel like David Benioff is probably the biggest unsung hero on this project. The writing is great. The situations and the story structure are simple and effective, and by the end of the film, I actually CARED about what was going to happen to the characters. I've heard Spike Lee decided to infuse a lot of the 9-11 elements into the film, and I think that was a good choice -- it adds a sense of nostalgia for the carefree days of yesteryear -- and the social psyche parallels our hero's psyche. The future is foreboding ...Highly recommended for those who haven't seen this film.

This film you can really feel it is post 9/11. Shot just after the terrorist attacks in September 2001 in new york. The film follows Monty played brilliantly by Edward Norton. He is a drug dealer and he has 24 hours before he is taken to jail for seven years. He got busted, he doesn't know who set him up but it may have been his girlfriend. He goes around on his last day meeting up with old friends.Bonding with his dad and girlfriend. The film is beautifully shot by Spike Lee. He is a great director of atmosphere and racial tension. The music is also great and really captures the feel of the city post 9/11. Spike Lee has done some really great movies like Malcolm X, Do The Right Thing (which he should have got an Oscar for the screenplay). He really captures behaviours very well and can be very insightful. This is one of the best films I've seen in a while. Great cast including, the late great Philip Seymour Hoffman, Brian Cox, Rosario Dawson, Anna Paquin and Barry Pepper. One of the best films of the early 2000's.A must see film 4 and half stars

Think of the innumerable bad guys that James Bond has ruthlessly dispatched over the years. Not the megalomaniacal villains of infinite ego, just the faceless and nameless body-bags that are just mild plot inconvenience. These people are such an unquestionable part of the world and they're a cog in the machine that keeps the plot moving, but we don't really think about this because these films don't invite us to think deeply about them, about how they became involved in these ridiculous plots, about whether they have a family or if they're struggling with the guilt of what they've left behind to pursue this life. Clerks thought about this over two decades ago, in relation to Star Wars. 25th Hour gives its narrative to one of these people; Monty Brogan is one of these elementary parts that helps sustain an entire operation, something that is taken for granted. He's a drug dealer, and of course there's nothing noble or commendable about that, but rather than being solely defined by that title, he's just another guy. So Monty Brogan is going to prison. Although this is an unalterable conclusion, he still exists in a kind of transitory state, 24 hours of purgatory, between the closing of his old life and the beginning of a new one, in which judgements can still be cast and relationships re- defined. Edward Norton always verges between 'everyman' and slick self-possessed star, and here he does kind of exist between those two states. As he goes about these final hours trying to ensure some sort of stability, we see both a man who's got that typical wit and verbosity of a protagonist who can always summon the correct words, a man seems to balance the immorality of the job from which he thrives with small moments of compassion, like his saving a dog in the opening scene or giving bills of cash to a sleeping tramp, but also the selfish dick who hasn't quite balanced the good deeds with the bad. There's sometimes a little of his character from Fight Club, except here it's not his masculinity that's in question, his impotence arises from the realisation that he might have wasted his life.And that feeling of uncertainty and things being questioned exists throughout, both in camera and subject. The cinematography is often kind restless, jumping from this position to the next, giving energy to environment that doesn't seem to have any. When Philip Seymour Hoffman is in English class with his students, there's a feeling of listlessness offset by this cinematography, and then later when scantily-clad student Anna Paquin challenges him about her B grade, in her disarming approach of both flirtation and contempt, the erratic camera almost turns this into some sort of intoxicated sit-com. There's also this occasional editorial choice that happened twice early on in the film in close succession and then (as far as I could tell) not again until the end, in which a certain action is shown twice, from a different angle. This happens as Norton and Hoffman move to embrace each other, and it's almost as if the film is stuttering and re-adjusting itself. In these weird moments the temporality of events is being affected, because I thought maybe these were supposed to be small but defining moments in his life, but maybe the reason is indiscernible.But what's clear is the film's immediate reaction to 9/11. The book was written before this happened, but just the very nature of it being incorporated into the film surprised me, not because it's a deliberately provocative move but because in the wake of such unfathomable tragedy people would choose to interpret it that way. But this isn't some fantasy land in which all real-world contexts can be ignored. They were edited out of Spider Man, but to do that here would be ignoring something very important about New York, and by extension America, and that's really what this film is. There's a moment in which Barry Pepper and Philip Seymour Hoffman are standing before Pepper's apartment windows, with a full view of the devastation of ground zero. The camera never moves throughout the entire discussion, in stark contrast to what I previously described, and so what you get is an evocative mixture of character and real world consequence. Monty Brogan isn't even present, the topic of discussion, and the script changes perspectives really subtly throughout the entire film, because it's aware that we can learn about our protagonist effectively through other people, and vice versa, but also that the characters can represent something larger than themselves. Barry Pepper is the slick semi-yuppie, voice of masculinity, Philip Seymour Hoffman, ever reliable, ever wonderfully uncool, is emasculated and anxious and never quite comfortable anywhere, his character described as someone who ran away from his privilege and Edward Norton lies somewhere in between, a man with money and composure but lots of things tearing at him underneath. During his now famous vitriolic monologue in a bathroom mirror, he sees the words 'fuck you' written on its corner and in retaliation releases and explosive condemnation on every culture and ethnicity present in New York, all reservation Norton had kept at this point gone as the melody of his words almost become a poetic performance piece, something which is echoed in the final monologue delivered by the father, Brian Cox. But here, as we cutaway to portraits of the people being described in borderline-racist terms, we're not seeing a character display a sweeping racism or misanthropy for everyone, but a man deflecting his own insecurities and defeats onto every other person available. It's America as both the large multi-cultural nation still thriving in its diversity, and America as a single man who is trying not to lose everything because he might have fuckedup the idea of the American Dream.