Ah, Scarface. Fuckin’ Scarface. The seminal, cinematic intersection where mountains of cocaine, money-counters, murder and breathtaking seaside sunsets beautifully meet. To most movie buffs born after the family-friendly (as in Manson or Mafia family) film’s inception — or fortunate enough to have never lived in the state of Florida — this classic story of an ambitious Cuban-expatriate-turned-disco-dancing, mansion-dwelling, Michelle Pfeiffer-marrying coke-dealer kingpin serves as a veritable historical document of crime-riddled, Reagan-era Miami in the wake of the 1980 Mariel boatlift. If you’ve never seen it (and apparently never got into rap), say hello to this little repertory showing. It’s the finest film oh-so-subtle then-screenwriter Oliver Stone was ever involved with, not to mention director Brian De Palma’s bloody magnum opus.