Marc Maron, the defensive artist formerly known as Metta World Peace, and a bunch of mostly douchey-seeming dudes made a movie called All Wifed Out. There are no wives in it. It's complicated, and it's not.
Philip Seymour Hoffman was all wrong as Art Howe, but was perfect anyway. For all his dazzling talent, it was Hoffman's willingness to doing more -- to do the most -- that made him great. It might have unmade him, too.
The other 1970's disaster flick in which awful things happen at the Super Bowl is not very good, but somehow is both worse and more fun to watch than Black Sunday. Having Jack Klugman and John Cassavettes in the same cast helps.
The 1977 TV movie Murder At The World Series offers none of the excitement of the World Series, and barely any murder. But it does offer notably more Intense Bruce Boxleitner acting and Houston Astros than any Fall Classic in recent memory.
A young John Wayne. A chicken farm in peril. A hockey team that's sort of like the New York Rangers, and John Wayne playing hockey for that team to save his chicken farm. It's 1937, and it's about as weird as it sounds.
The NBA was a strange place in the late 1970s, if probably not quite as strange as the version depicted in 1979's gloriously batshit Jonathan Winters/Julius Erving vehicle The Fish That Saved Pittsburgh. Few things, really, could be much stranger.