Gardner: Well, at the time, it definitely had a new vibe—a swagger, if you will. And really, that's one of the things that jumped out at me when watching it again. Not only does Spike Lee try to give us a Brooklyn block on "the hottest day of the summer," as a title card tells us, he tries to give us all of it. All the characters, all the trifles and concerns, everything. And he does it with such verve. In addition to Spike Lee's usual repertoire of flourishes, it's surprising how many scenes involve conversations that unfold during a long tracking shot, say, or which pass from inside Sal's Pizzeria, out into the street, and back inside Sal's, all in one carefully staged take. Shots like those help tie together the neighborhood, and the film's story, too. And for all the ground covered, there's so much richness and impromptu feel. Something I never noticed before: In one scene, John Turturro's character, racist pizza chef Pino, casually kicks a can on the sidewalk right over the camera. It's the kind of thing you kinda couldn't plan—it had to have happened in the moment, which is amazing for a movie with this many moving parts.