Mallrats matters precisely because it doesn't matter. It’s aimless, juvenile, flawed, but so were you, once. It captures the art of wasting time perfectly, and sometimes that’s exactly what cinema should do.

Let’s talk about The Usual Suspects.

1995: You were there, or you wish you were. Smack in the middle of an era still buzzing from Tarantino’s Pulp Fiction, when crime thrillers felt like dizzying puzzles waiting to be unravelled. All the magazines were asking: “Who is Keyser Söze?” But no one had a clue. You had to find out for yourself.