I have no shame admitting I'll be the first one in line to watch Andrew Garfield in The Amazing Spider-Man. Undoubtedly, the lad will tap into a more vulnerable, softer side of Peter Parker. I'm okay with this, even if the Greatest Generation isn't.
When you're tackling a towering masterwork like Arthur Miller's Death Of A Salesman, words like "respectable" and "solid" seem like faint praise. When you hope to scale the mountaintop, getting most of the way up is cold comfort.
Now at the Barrymore, starring Philip Seymour Hoffman as Willy and Andrew Garfield as his lost son Biff, this soulful lament of missed dreams and misguided desires is staged with aching sensitivity by Mike Nichols.