Popcorn Freak

Popcorn optional but strongly recommended.

The Town (2010) Rewatched: Affleck's Directorial Thesis Still Standing

September 2010 was crowded with spectacle, and this site's original review ran in the middle of it — The Town opening a week after a dream heist and holding its own with a much older-fashioned kind of robbery. Rewatching it in 2026, the film's standing has only improved: it remains the rare actor-turned-director follow-up that justifies the career switch, and the rare crime film where the location is both the setting and the verdict.

Charlestown as character

The film's best decision is documentary-flavored: the opening titles treat Charlestown, Boston — "the bank robbery capital of America" — as a fact of nature. The Town is about a neighborhood as a career path, where robbing banks is the family trade the way fishing is in a fishing town. Every choice flows from that: the bars, the accents, the courtyard, the mother in prison, the sense that leaving is a betrayal with a body count. The rewatch lands the theme harder in 2026, when "the place that keeps you" is the engine of half the prestige crime series on television. The Town was building that engine while the format was still young.

The set pieces: craft you can follow

The three heists escalate correctly — the opening branch job (tense, professional, scary), the hospital reprisal (chaotic, personal, vindictive), and the Fenway Park finale (a stadium full of cops, solved by dressing as nuns). The camera work is legible in the 70s-thriller tradition: you always know who is where, which is the discipline that makes suspense possible. The car chase through the alleys cuts cleaner than any chase that year, and the Jon Hamm FBI agent arrives as a real antagonist rather than a plot device.

The Affleck question, answered

The director-actor suspicion hanging over 2010 — Gone, Baby, Gone was good, but was it a fluke? — is settled by the rewatch. Affleck directs himself with restraint: his Doug is reactive, hollowed out, a man fluent in a trade he hates. The scenes with Jeremy Renner's Jem carry the film's real electricity — loyalty as a muzzle — and Renner's Oscar-nominated live wire still plays as the best thing in a well-acted frame. The central romance with Rebecca Hall gets a weaker hand (the film needs her more than it develops her), but their scenes share one honest idea: two people trying to imagine a version of Doug that doesn't end in the courtyard.

The ending, both cuts

The rewatch also settles the ending debate. The theatrical cut lets Doug get away — the money in the swamp, the single line about his father, Charlestown shrinking in the mirror. The extended cut gives him the fatal courtyard. The theatrical version argues the neighborhood can be escaped at a price; the extended version argues it can't. The film supports both, but 2026 viewers used to prestige fatalism may find the extended ending the more honest one — and the theatrical one the more generous.

The archive angle

The site's September 2010 take is preserved as filed, a first-week review competing for attention in a season of tentpoles. Read it, then rewatch, then check our Inception and Scott Pilgrim pieces for the rest of that ridiculous season — 2010 was one of the last years a crime film this crafty could open wide.

From the Popcorn Freak archive