Things I noticed after peeping this gem on the big screen:
The ink stain on Hank Chinaski's shirt pocket.
The way, well, BARFLIES wince and scuttle from daylight like cockroaches in a crumby linen closet.
The sunglasses and slicked back hair of a paramedic who doesn't give a fuck.
Wanda's look of despair when she realizes her cooked drunk-stolen corn is green and not worth chowing.
My surprise seeing Robby Muller listed as cinematographer.
Still, Barfly contains one of the greatest movie endings of all time. Elliptical, down'n'dirty, working stiff funny, and weirdly poetic like most Bukowski prose. New day, same old shit.
SIDE NOTE: I like Bukowski, but he's definitely one of those authors (unfairly) ruined by fans: misogynistic…