Dog Day Afternoon #BlastFromThePast (Released 1975)

When Dog Day Afternoon opened in September 1975, America was restless and raw. Watergate had just toppled a president, cynicism ran high, and television was fast becoming the nation’s addiction. Into that cultural mood walked Sidney Lumet’s film about a botched Brooklyn bank robbery, and suddenly everyone was talking about Al Pacino screaming “Attica!” into the summer air.

Based on a true story, the film follows Sonny Wortzik (Pacino), who sets out to rob a bank to pay for his lover’s gender-confirmation surgery. What should have taken ten minutes spirals into a fourteen-hour ordeal as helicopters hover, crowds gather, and TV cameras roll. Lumet shoots much of the action inside the stifling bank, building a sweaty, claustrophobic pressure cooker that feels as tense and absurd today as it did fifty years ago.

Pacino, already fresh from his whistleblowing cop in Serpico (1973), cemented his reputation here. His Sonny is both frantic and vulnerable, a man unraveling before the eyes of hostages, cops, and the world. The “Attica!” chant — improvised by Pacino — transformed the film from crime drama to cultural reckoning, linking it to real-life anger over the 1971 prison uprising.

The supporting cast turned Dog Day Afternoon into a showcase of talent at pivotal career moments. Chris Sarandon, as Sonny’s partner Leon, delivered a groundbreaking portrayal of a same-sex relationship at a time when Hollywood barely acknowledged such stories. His performance earned him an Oscar nomination and launched a career that would later include The Princess Bride and Fright Night.

Even more haunting is John Cazale as Sal, Sonny’s doomed accomplice. Already unforgettable as Fredo in The Godfather films, Cazale brought a fragile, haunted quiet to Sal. His career, cut short by cancer in 1978, produced only five films — all nominated for Best Picture. Off-screen, he was Meryl Streep’s great love, and she has often spoken of how profoundly he shaped her as an actress and partner. His presence in Dog Day Afternoon adds a tragic weight, knowing how brief his brilliance would be.

Critics saw the film’s power immediately. The New York Times called it “a gaudy street carnival,” marveling at Lumet’s ability to capture both chaos and humanity. The New York Daily News praised Pacino’s “stunning, brilliantly erratic” performance. Audiences agreed: the film grossed more than $50 million on a $3.8 million budget, won the Oscar for Best Original Screenplay, and now lives in the National Film Registry as “culturally, historically, and aesthetically significant.”

Half a century later, its themes feel prophetic. Identity, systemic inequity, and a culture addicted to media spectacle are even sharper in today’s world, where every crisis is broadcast and replayed in seconds. Dog Day Afternoon isn’t just a time capsule of the 1970s — it’s a mirror, reminding us how spectacle, desperation, and humanity intertwine.

If you’ve never seen it, cue it up. Watch Pacino sweat through his shirt, listen to the sirens outside, and remember: this was 1975. Some things change. Some things, apparently, don’t.

-- Christine Merser