Shortly after a scene where the voice of photographer Garry Winogrand reads a long A.J. Soprano-lite screed about nothing mattering in the world, man, that doubles as one of his applications for a Guggenheim (sad boy netted three of ‘em), the anxious humming harmonica of “When the Ship Comes In” can be heard, itself a Yates-lite screed written by Bob Dy…
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