American Graffiti (1973)

The radio is blasting, everybody’s cruising, and nobody wants to admit what happens when the sun comes up. American Graffiti turns one warm night into the last night of an entire version of your life. That’s the argument for it: the movie doesn’t need beaches or summer camp to make you feel summer ending. It gives you friends killing time because deep down they know time is exactly what they’re running out of. Against Stand by Me, it’s adolescence ending a few years later. Against Dirty Dancing, it trades one final romance for one final night with the whole crew. And that closing glimpse of where everyone ends up? Absolutely ruthless. Is this the definitive end-of-summer movie—or has nostalgia made that cruising night feel even better than it was?