Another assumption some critics make about Jake is that he is insecure, but that implies he does not know himself. Clearly he does, and it’s the fact that Harry knows him as well that bugs him. This is not evidence of insecurity, but evidence of feeling invaded.

Nonetheless, and despite its cinematic limitations, Chinese Coffee is proof that art house films need not be about effete individuals, for Harry and Jake are, if nothing else, vibrant and opinionated men who have simply outlived their utility in the world; or so it seems. This is clearly true for Jake, but whether or not it is for Harry is the crux of the film.

Would that more films were based upon works that proved themselves literarily, with realistically drawn characters, rather than works based upon video games, and American cinema might hearken back to its Golden Age in the 1970s, the period that saw the rise of Al Pacino and his generation of actors. Circularity can be a good thing, no?