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There’s a film on Netflix that you really should’ve seen by now called The Irishman. If you haven’t, then we urge you to watch it right now. Not for the multifaceted performances of three dusty, Hollywood icons in the bittersweet twilight of their careers. Not for the cinematography, which paints a picture at once familiarly all-American and otherworldly, or for the soundtrack, which punctuates a glacial storyline with nostalgia, dread and occasional glee. No, you must watch it for the pyjamas. Read more at Esquire. 

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