The Friends of Eddie Coyle (Peter Yates, 1973)

So much depends upon a deserted train station in Massachusetts. Men meet in greasy spoons (over coffee) and dim bars (over beer) and green parks and T stops and grocery store parking lots and talk endlessly, often in code, about information and guns. Of the two, the former proves to be the more deadly weapon, as even those who coldly (hidden behind balaclavas or plastic mustachioed masks) and efficiently take hostages and rob banks with the latter are doomed to fail because of the horrible neutrality and amorality of the former.

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