Mathis or Sinatra?

It's a divisive question. Not because it separates people into fans of Johnny or Frank but because it separates those who have seen and loved the film Diner and those who have no idea what I'm talking about.

Though it is prized and adored by its fans it tends to lurk in the 'cult classic' category, a euphemism for “really good but not many of you have seen it”.

This year marks the 40th anniversary of Diner's release but there are unlikely to be any great celebrations or broadcasts on TV in the current climate.

There are Jewish films of course - Hello Dolly, Fiddler on the Roof, several of Woody Allen's - and then there are Jew-ish films which are not about religion but which have themes, language, relationships and behaviour that remind us all of who we are and, perhaps, more relevantly, what we're like.

Diner is one of those. Particularly the way the characters interact and, typically, argue. 

It helps that the director and several cast members are Jewish and it culminates in a Jewish wedding. It may also be the only Jewish Christmas movie.

Barry Levinson's semi-autobiographical account of adolescent life in Baltimore in 1959 meanders through a series of episodic events involving a group of male friends who regularly meet at a local diner.

Reflecting attitudes in the late fifties as well as those of the early 80s, there is a scene in a cinema involving a popcorn box which basically amounts to sexual assault that would be prefaced today with a warning to viewers.

Today's cancel culture would probably seize on that and the character played by Ellen Barkin, who is abused by her husband after messing with the OCD arrangement of his record collection (alphabetically and by genre) and comes close to being sexually humiliated for a bet.

But it would be a shame to suck the joy out of the film while recognising its faults.

First of all, it is not simply a rites of passage rip-off of American Grafitti. It is a bromance, a brat pack movie, a coming of age comedy drama and, yes, a Jew-ish film.

Levinson's screenplay was nominated for an Oscar and many of the round-the-table conversations were improvised to give an authentic feel long before Tarantino used the same method in Reservoir Dogs.

It marked the debuts of three stars, Ellen Barkin, Paul Reiser and Timothy Daly; was the breakout role for others, including Mickey Rourke and Daniel Stern - the tall burglar in Home Alone if the name isn't familiar; and was the directorial debut for Levinson, who went on to make Rain Man, Good Morning Vietnam, Sleepers and Avalon among others.

And for fans of The Simpsons, this film answers the question posed in the Stonecutters episode when they sing, “Who made Steve Guttenberg a star?”. As Eddie, the slightly nebbish, Jewish virgin who will not agree to marry his fiancee unless she passes a quiz on his NFL team, the Baltimore Colts, Guttenberg gives the performance of his life. Considering his most famous roles were in the first four Police Academy films and Three Men and a Baby, perhaps that's not as great a compliment as it seems.

His improvised scenes with Paul Reiser in the diner are wonderfully droll. Studio chiefs wanted to cut them out as being irrelevant to the plot but Levinson insisted on keeping them in and, of course, he was right.

(Incidentally, to give the Colts quiz authenticity the six questions heard in the film were compiled by then Colts assistant general manager Ernie Accorsi who was not credited for it.)

Most of the cast have enjoyed successful careers as a result of this film, including Kevin Bacon who seems to have been in roughly seven per cent of all films ever made as well as being a constant presence in EE TV commercials.

In Diner he nails it as a disinherited rich kid, the bad boy and practical joker of the bunch, seemingly idiotic - yet in a revealing moment as he sits alone in front of the US version of University Challenge on his TV he answers every question correctly.

Rourke's career has zigzagged but included the brilliance of Barfly and Angel Heart to the much acclaimed The Wrestler, but his performance in Diner as the sex and gambling obsessed charmer is possibly his most understated yet empathetic role of all.

The film almost didn't make it at all. It got poor reactions in test screenings and MGM were ready to shelve it - but New Yorker critic Pauline Kael saw it and gave it a rave review, which led to its release early in 1982.

It may have been about the 1950s but the friendships, fears and dreams of that generation were no different to those of us who were adolescents when it came out, slowly transitioning from school to college or work, to living away from home and to moving into adulthood.

Diner made an impression as films so often do - perhaps Swingers in the 90s is comparable. Those who like it, love it - and will recite lines or reflect on scenes in the same way the nerdy kids at school who liked Hawkwind and chemistry could recite every line from every Monty Python episode.

Roger Ebert, perhaps America's best - or best-known - film critic, gave it a mixed review when it came out, calling it very funny but writing that the characters were not three-dimensional before admitting: "It is, of course, a disturbing possibility that, to the degree these young men denied full personhood to women, they didn't have three-dimensional personalities."

It may be sacrilege to disagree with Ebert but it is to Levinson's credit that there are plenty of hints to the characters' personalities without Levinson needing to lay it on thick with a trowel.

Perhaps best of all is the relationship between Modell and Eddie, from arguing over who is going to eat an unfinished beef sandwich to Modell's speech at Eddie's typically Jewish wedding which reunites the friends at the end.

Happy birthday Diner, you flawed genius of a film.