Martin Scorsese is best known for his films that explore the darker sides of American cities, specifically New York. He’s drifted away from this from time to time, notably with his cerebral exploration of Jesus in The Last Temptation of Christ, his period piece The Age of Innocence and his Dalai Lama biopic Kundun. Though his low-key comedy After Hours sticks to his usual backdrop of the shady side of New York City, it may be the greatest anomaly in his repertoire.

After a boring day of work at his boring office job, everyman Paul Hackett (Griffin Dunne) spends his evening reading Henry Miller at a coffee shop. He is approached by Marcy (Rosanna Arquette), who’s intriguing, attractive and a fellow Henry Miller enthusiast. They talk, joke, flirt and Paul gets her number. It’s evident that this brief interaction is the most exciting thing Paul’s experienced in quite some time, and he’s craving more action. He gives Marcy a call the same night at exactly 11:32 p.m. To his surprise, she invites him over. Things are moving quickly for Paul, but things only get quicker from there.

Paul’s perilous taxi ride to Marcy’s is the first omen of the night to come. His twenty-dollar bill flies out the window, and he’s unable to pay the fair. Of course, what seems like a free ride to Paul will come back to haunt him soon enough.

He arrives at Marcy’s only to find she is away at the drug store. He is left alone with her roommate, a laid back sculptor named Kiki (Linda Fiorentino) who sells bagel-shaped paperweights made of plaster. The more Paul gets to know Marcy, the less he likes about her. All bets are off once he suspects that she has a third-degree burn on her body, as Paul had a traumatic experience in the burn ward of a hospital when he was a youth. Once he decides to bail on Marcy, things really start to get weird as he spends the rest of his night trying to find his way home.

There’s a recurring theme of seemingly trivial occurrences that come back to bite Paul in the ass. This theme is what drives the plot forward. After Hours’ first act sets up the unconventional circumstances for the protagonist. Its second act escalates the situations introduced in the previous act. The final act is a sweeping, over-the-top finale in which the stack of problems facing the protagonist implode in a bizarre, ironic, hilarious conclusion. Certainly, it’s a formula that audiences have become familiar with — Curb Your Enthusiasm executes it perfectly on a weekly basis — but its a formula that doesn’t get old. Moreover, when it’s done well, it will have you laughing yourself silly. After Hours implements this formula flawlessly, and it may be the best feature film to do so.

Scorsese made After Hours in 1985, after The King Of Comedy lost tens of millions of dollars at the box office, despite positive reviews. It remains the lowest-budget feature film he’s made since he found success with Taxi Driver. Though it managed to make a small profit in theaters, it was far from a box-office hit.

This may have been due to the lack of star-power on screen. After Hours showcases an ensemble cast of relatively unknown actors, the most famous being Teri Garr and Cheech and Chong, in what has to be the best movie their names have ever been attached to (sorry, Corsican Brothers).

There are a number of features that distinguish After Hours from Scorsese’s other films. It remains his only comedy to date. It was his first film in a decade not to star Robert De Niro. For all the terrible things that Paul does in After Hours, including driving a troubled woman to suicide, he shows no detectable signs of guilt, one of the most common themes explored in Scorsese’s films. However, the least Scorsese-esque thing about the film has to be that it doesn’t have a single Rolling Stones song on its soundtrack.

After Hours is available for checkout at the Odegaard Media Center.

Reach contributing writer Andrew Mitrak at weekender@dailyuw.com.