That is the quality imbued in this film by Brest, through the writing and direction. It would have been so easy to make a caper film, or a male-bonding buddy picture, but Brest does it the hard way so that we care about the characters and not the story. He fills each role with actors who look real, not pretty, like Charles Hallahan as Pete. He looks like someone who's worked all his life, not a person sent down by central casting.
And he is unafraid to let silence play a roll. How many directors would find 'suitable' music to waft in and out of the soundtrack as the three amigos occupy their bench? Here they sit in blessed silence until we wonder who will speak next, since Willie does not seem to want to open his mouth. When they get to Vegas, it would be so easy to do quick cuts of their winning streak with appropriate music blasting, but Brest stretches the scene so that we are not sure if they will keep their gains.
Any sentiment comes hard earned, like watching Joe stumbling around the apartment after the death of Willie, finding his own album of photographs and reflecting, only to have nature spoil the mood.
And he is unafraid to let silence play a roll. How many directors would find 'suitable' music to waft in and out of the soundtrack as the three amigos occupy their bench? Here they sit in blessed silence until we wonder who will speak next, since Willie does not seem to want to open his mouth. When they get to Vegas, it would be so easy to do quick cuts of their winning streak with appropriate music blasting, but Brest stretches the scene so that we are not sure if they will keep their gains.
Any sentiment comes hard earned, like watching Joe stumbling around the apartment after the death of Willie, finding his own album of photographs and reflecting, only to have nature spoil the mood.