Thursday, April 9, 2020

Woody Allen and Me


I've been thinking about Woody Allen a lot since I read his memoir, Apropos of Nothing.

I remembered the first Woody Allen movies I saw--Take the Money and Run, Bananas, and Play It Again, Sam. I had seen him on television and his standup comedy was hip and amusing, and the way he presented himself as a lovable, neurotic loser, while audiences were clearly loving his jokes as well as his intellect was the essence of Woody's paradox. This self-effacing creative force would lead him into success in movies. I had forgotten how many of his movies I had seen until I looked at the list.

Sleeper introduced us to Diane Keaton, who became his foil in many movies to come. She had just the right amount of everyday beauty and Gentile charm to counterbalance the schmendrick  persona he had created for himself. She could match neuroses with him yet still look a little mainstream. She got his jokes and sometimes topped him in benighted klutziness while still looking feminine and sophisticated. They shared an ability to look as if they didn't know what they were doing while they did their mutual shtik extremely smoothly. This was perfected in Annie Hall, which, until I read Apropos of Nothing I thought was just the two of them reliving their own relationship.

Woody had spent his life watching movies, and took to making them with relish. He loved Ingmar Bergman, the Swedish director-producer who influenced so many young filmmakers of the 1960s. Bergman's artistically bare landscapes, his themes of isolation, loneliness and loss of connection resonated with Allen and influenced some of his quietly elegant dramas such as Interiors. But however much he loved them, audiences (and I include myself) were more enchanted with the magic, whimsy, and laughs he evoked in A Midsummer Night's Sex Comedy, Zelig, The Purple Rose of Cairo, Radio Days, Bullets Over Broadway, and Everyone Says I Love You.  Midnight in Paris was a personal favorite.

Okay, this is becoming more a list of lists than an opinion column. I confess that was my purpose all along. I didn't list every movie he was ever involved in, but wanted to jog your memory and get you thinking about all the Woody Allen movies you've seen, and stimulate a discussion of which ones you liked best and why. If you'd care to comment on my omissions, or critique my choices, feel free.  I'd like to know if you agree with me that Woody Allen deserves some good words at this point.

2 comments:

  1. I wonder how many people got your play on words with the title of your last post: Everybody Says I Don't Love You Anymore, referencing Woody Allen's 1996 film "Everyone Says I Love You." I was a grad student at the University of Wisconsin when Annie Hall came out. I was hanging with would-be-screenwriters (some of whom became actual screenwriters) and each successive Allen film was anticipated, dissected and, on the whole, admired. We of course loved the fact that Annie Hall's character was from Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin.

    I found this in the University of Wisconsin alumni magazine archives:

    Annie Hall was released in 1977. Written by Woody Allen and Marshall Brickman (UW Class of ’61), the neurotic comedian is on a campus tour and stops in Wisconsin to visit Annie Hall’s family in Chippewa Falls. The screenplay goes like this:

    The darkened auditorium is filled with college students applauding and cheering, excited, as Alvy stands on spotlighted stage holding the microphone.
    ALVY
    (Gesturing)
    W-where am I? I-I keep … I have to
    reorient myself. This is the University
    of Wisconsin, right? So I’m always …
    I’m tense and … uh, when I’m playin’ a
    col- I’ve a very bad history with colleges.
    You know, I went to New York University and,
    uh, tsch, I was thrown out of NYU my freshman year …
    for cheating on my metaphysics final.
    You know, I looked within the soul of the
    boy sitting next to me —

    (The audience laughs; they’re with him)

    — and when I was thrown out, my mother,
    who’s an emotionally high-strung woman,
    locked herself in the bathroom and took an
    overdose of mah-jongg tiles.

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  2. I remember that routine! Annie Hall is on TCM as I write. Loved that movie! I'm recording MANHATTAN later and will watch it when I have time. I saw it once but I'm sure I missed something.

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