Of course this isn't Linklater's first time working with A-list talent; it's just his best. Despite memorable performances by Parker Posey, both Dazed & Confused and Suburbia felt sloppy and unimpressive. Tape gets back to the basics--literally--with a cast of three, a claustrophobic little motel room location, and no way out.

Vince and Johnny (Ethan Hawke and Robert Sean Leonard, respectively) are old friends reuniting in Lansing, Michigan. Vince is an intoxicated, hyperactive volunteer fireman-child who moonlights as a low-level drug dealer. Johnny, on the other hand, has grown up and is in town to debut his new film at the local festival. As Vince and Johnny reminisce about the past ten years, two significant things happen: Vince gets increasingly high, and conversation turns to an unresolved issue regarding an ex-girlfriend in common.

The issue quickly escalates from semantics to accusations. Vince squeezes a "confession" out of Johnny, then reveals that he's been taping the entire conversation. This propels us into the third act, in which the ex-girlfriend, Amy (Uma Thurman) arrives on the scene.

Hawke, Leonard, and Thurman have a chemistry between them that is both believable and engrossing. The actors' familiarity with each other off-screen (Hawke and Leonard date back to Dead Poet's Society, and Hawke is married to Thurman) translates to excellent on-screen interactions. Hawke particularly deserves praise for his good drug-acting, something that 9 our of 10 actors continue to get wrong film after film.

Stephen Belber's script is spot-on, yet leaves room for interpretation. Although the film pivots around the details of the past, it's also an exercise in how three different people can have entirely different recollections of a single event. Tape is proof that great dialogue, strong acting, and a shoestring budget can hold their own among the Hollywood machine films anyday.