If this East Village mainstay looks like a film-worthy drown-your-sorrows dive, right down to the Miller Lite lamps illuminating the two pool tables, it might be because a few movies have been shot here. Their posters hang on the mahogany walls along with red-fluorescent tube lights, round mirrors, porcelain knickknacks, and a Polish flag representing the eponymous owner’s home country. Bouffanted babushka Lucy has been working the bar ever since the late ‘70s, when Lucy’s was Blanche’s and was still on St. Mark’s. Most nights she can still be found cuing up the jukebox and winking and grinning while she pours drinks heavy. The beer selection is larger than the cafeteria tables and the dropped panel ceilings would imply, and somehow the two well-worn pool tables in the back don’t draw knuckleheads. Toward the end of the week, the place can get packed with weekend warriors drawn by the neon signs but the vibe remains amicable and the jukebox (of old new wave) is never too loud to prevent you from meeting a neighbor.