The Bamboo Lounge — "Goodfellas" (1990)
Clientele: Wiseguys like Frankie Carbone, Mo Black's brother Fat Andy, Frankie the Wop, Freddie No-Nose, Jimmy Two-Times and their assorted molls.
Rationale: After the heady razzmatazz of Rick's, we want somewhere a little more low-key and intimate. The Copacabana may get the dazzling tracking shot in "Goodfellas" but it's the familiar faces and kitschy tiki glamor of The Bamboo Lounge that lets us know that anything goes here, plus, while eating is cheating it would probably be wise now, and we know these guys must do a mean cannoli. Just gotta get out before the place mysteriously burns to the ground.
Music: Classic cuts from the era like "This World We Love In (Il Cielo In Una Stanza)" by Mina and "Playboy" by The Marvelettes
What's your poison? Seems like they've a glut of Cutty Sark Whisky.
If it's full we'll go to: Volpe's from "Mean Streets"—sometimes you just need your Italian/American fix.

The Double Deuce — "Roadhouse" (1989)
Clientele: Plaid shirt-wearing meathead hicks and trashy local women with low self-esteem.
Rationale: We enjoyed our little skirmish back in the Bottleneck, but we've been drinking for hours now and we're spoiling for a real fight. And this is the place to have it—the old Double Deuce that is, not the new Dalton-improved version. Nope, we're gonna stick with the random, bottle-flinging, trash-talking, total destruction mayhem that is the order of the day before superbouncer Patrick Swayze shows up and ruins everyone's fun.
Music: Canadian outfit The Jeff Healey Band, playing live to no one's notice from behind chicken wire.
What's your poison? Beer. In a bottle that we can throw.
If it's full we'll go to: Bob's Country Bunker—"The Blues Brothers" where we can get the chicken-wire, bottle-throwing monkey off our backs, or if all else fails, Lou's Tavern from "Fight Club".

The Titty Twister — "From Dusk Till Dawn" (1996)
Clientele: Border-rat lowlifes, murderers, kidnappers, lechers, sadists, Salma Hayek, a snake, vampires and other terrifying creatures. Like Tarantino as an actor.
Rationale: It's probably the only place still open at this stage, and nursing cuts and bruises from The Double Deuce we can't afford to go anywhere with any sort of door policy. Plus it has Salma Hayek getting her snake on amid a surprisingly lavish stage show, and even the heterosexual females in our company have to admit that that is a sight to behold.
Music: Tito & Tarantula playing "After Dark" live.
What's your poison? Um, beer? And maybe blood? Like you come here for the quality mixology.
If it's full we'll go to: Taffy Lewis' Nightclub from "Blade Runner," if it's a snake dance we're hankering after, or Kadie's Club Pecos in "Sin City."

The Gold Room at The Overlook — "The Shining" (1980)
Clientele: The creme de la creme of wealthy '20s society (ghosts, but nobody's perfect) and one deranged caretaker.
Rationale: At this point, we're only ever going to be able to hit up a hotel bar, if we had the foresight to book a room in advance. And the great thing about the Gold Room, aside from it being the most incredible room ever, is that those of us who have perished at the Titty Twister can still come hang out with those of us who have somehow survived. And we're unlikely to be charged for our drinks.
Music: Al Bowlly & Ray Noble Orchestra playing "Midnight, the Stars and You."
What's your poison? Bourbon. On the rocks.
If it's full we'll go to: There really is no substitute for the Gold Room, but for a less creepy and more melancholic end to a very long day, we could try the New York Bar in the Tokyo Hyatt from "Lost In Translation" for a grotesquely overpriced Suntory against the Tokyo nightscape before falling into bed.

Bonus "recovery" bar
The next day, those of us not hospitalized, arrested or waking up naked in the desert handcuffed to a hyena and missing a tooth, may wish to gather quietly for a hair of the dog. If we do, we can't think of anywhere less demanding of us than Trees Lounge from "Trees Lounge," where nothing much ever really happens and frankly, no one's judging.

And finally, there are a couple of movie bars we went out of our way to avoid on our crawl, notably Flanagans Cocktails and Dreams from the end of "Cocktail" (1988) at which barman Tom Cruise, aside from taking ages to put a drink together with all the hippy hippy shaking may without warning at any time leap onto the bar and recite an awful improvised poem. And the Blue Oyster Bar, made infamous as a frequent scene of "hilarious" gay panic as unsuspecting "Police Academy" characters are lured there (usually as a diversionary tactic) and, presumably paralysed with terror when they realise it's populated exclusively with leather-clad biker bears and other YMCA-style gay stereotypes, coerced into tangoing with the regulars. If anything could convince us not to include a visit to "Coyote Ugly," it was a visit to Coyote Ugly. And basically most "town vs gown" college bars like the "Harvard" bar from "Good Will Hunting" and St. Elmo's from "St. Elmo's Fire" are fine for college kids, but we're just a bit old for all that pitcher/chugging nonsense now.

So how do you like them apples? Tell us your twelve, and the first round's on us.