Thursday, May 31, 2012

Woody Allen

"I don't want to achieve immortality through my work - I want to achieve it through not dying."

I love every film I've seen of Woody Allen. Granted, I haven't fully delved into all of his filmography, but I've seen enough to write a sizable post about him. Everything about him and his work makes me feel better about life and myself, because the best way to forgot your own troubles is to watch other people going through similar situations. Though he is mostly known for comedy, he has mastered a nice blend of philosophical pondering and nihilism wrapped up in humorous characters and stories (with the exception of a few pure dramas).

Of course, the most enchanting thing about Allen is his commentary on life, love, death, and other human entanglements. The plot, while still present, is usually cast aside for compelling characterization, led by a more or less caricature of Allen himself. He often addresses the very same questions I contemplate, and I often joke that I'm the female, pubescent version of him, neurotic and occasionally snobby, fed up with the world. I would have to say that if I were to accomplish my dream of being a screenwriter, I would like to write films similar in tone to his, mostly character studies.

Annie Hall (1977)
A film that I view as perfect in every regard, Annie Hall marked a drastic change of form for the director, whose work previously comprised solely of broad comedy, nary a hint of what was to come. Often called the mother of the modern romantic comedy, it was the first movie to confront the messy side of relationships, and how beautiful they truly can be. Allen got everything right; the rich dialogue and human interaction, the technical aspect, as well as every performance. Diane Keaton, in her Oscar-winning role as Annie, is absolutely goofy. She represents every ditzy, clueless girl out there (including this writer) and makes them feel proud to be called as such. The feel is pure 70's, from the cultural allusions to the attire. The first masterpiece by the director.

Manhattan (1979)
Without a doubt, Manhattan is one of the most beautifully photographed movies to ever grace celluloid, not to mention the best looking of any Allen film. When the city of Manhattan glows awake to the music of George Gershwin and the narration by Isaac (a manifestation of Allen himself), the city we had grown accustomed to as simply noisy and crowded transforms into this ravishing creature with a heart and soul of its own. Manhattan is a character in itself, to whom the flawless opening sequence introduces us. My favorite performance in a Woody Allen film is also in this film, young Mariel Hemingway (yes, granddaughter of Ernest) as the winsome, doe-eyed Tracy. Only at seventeen she is infinitely more mature than the Allen character without ever seeming precocious, and never rubs it in any adult's face. When I come to be that age, I hope I can be as comfortable in my own skin as her. Mariel Hemingway creates such divine moments, holding her own against the likes of Diane Keaton and Michael Murphy. It is her earnestness and devotion that makes me always want them to be together, even though she's too good for him.
Zelig (1983)
After his deep, romantic, and thought-provoking "sophisticated" comedies and dramas, Zelig is more of a wade into well-worn waters. Which is, to say, not at all bad. While his other films employed gorgeous visions of New York, effects were minimal. So in a way, this mockumentary, reminiscent of his first feature Take the Money and Run, was mostly an experiment in almost jaw-dropping editing, in which the title character is transported into ostensibly real stock footage seamlessly. What I enjoy about the film is that everything feels like a documentary, from the interviews to the grainy images. It's apparent that Allen pushed himself to the edge of his endurance in getting the feel of the movie just right, and he succeeded.
The Purple Rose of Cairo (1985)
I think out of all his films, I related to Mia Farrow's character of Cecelia the most. She's a dreamer who escapes in the enchantment of movies, where she can watch Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire twirl her troubles away. But she's obsessed with one particular movie, the eponymous The Purple Rose of Cairo, so imagine her surprise when the main character walks out of the screen and into the real world! As Allen's movies go, this one can be classified, along with Alice and Midnight in Paris, as his magical whimsies. There has to be suspension of disbelief, as the impossible feats are never explained, but you never have to actually wrap your head around these concepts. I love how Allen perfectly captured the Depression-era mentality of cinema, when movies were pure escapism, unlike now when they are meant to be analyzed and discussed. Also, Mia Farrow is so real and charming that even if some moments do seem a tad corny (which, I would argue, is intended), she makes it seem all lovely.
Hannah and Her Sisters (1986)
Oh, how I adore Hannah and Her Sisters. It was the first Woody Allen movie I saw, and that was the moment I fell in love and never looked back. Despite common belief that it's a comedy, I find it more of a heavy character drama interspersed with some light moments and everyday-type humor. Simply, it's a film about people; their moral choices, their quirks, their flaws (of which there are many). Most of the characters are flat-out unlikeable, but we sympathize with them because they feel so real, their plights so humanistic. As a family unit, they're insecure, they bicker, they whine, they adulterate, but Allen succeeds in creating array of characters that are each so different and enthralling because of their faults. He touches upon themes such as uncertainty about faith and God, infidelity, and, of course, love. There's a little something for everyone here.
Crimes and Misdemeanors (1989)
Allen himself once said that he made Crimes and Misdemeanors because he felt he was too easy on the characters of Hannah in the end. While I disagree with that statement, I am so beyond thrilled that he went ahead and made this film. Undoubtedly, it's my favorite. I really believe he got everything right about it, even with supposedly simple aspects like lighting. The darker half is all moral dilemma and drama, contrasted with other half more signature of Allen's romantic comedies, though quieter than his others. The two stories run parallel, but only intersect at the end for the ultimately eye-widening ending. It's pretty shocking to see how dark this movie gets as we descend into the bleaker parts of human nature along with the seeming upright Judah Rosenthal, played brilliantly by Martin landau. It really is fascinating to see how someone can live with him or herself after murder, and if he or she actually can. That's the main topic of the movie, and from what I've heard it is a homage to Crime and Punishment, dealing with the repercussions of murder on the conscience. Anjelica Huston is heartbreaking as her role as Rosenthal's mistress (that's not really a spoiler, by the way). She's definitely mentally unhinged, but her love for Rosenthal makes me weep, especially the scene where she gives him a piece of music she knows he likes and breaks down completely.
Match Point (2005)
What Allen did with Match Point was basically rework the darker part of Crimes and set it in England with a tennis theme to it. It's definitely much more darker than the latter, as there is hardly an ounce of humor to counteract the jarring effects. I really liked how well done it was. The tension never breaks for a second, and I'm pretty sure I forgot to breathe at a few points. I also really like Scarlett Johansson, and she makes a great femme fatale. To be honest, this film feels way more noir-ish than standard Allen fare, which is a good venture for him. I like it when he explores new terrain, as much as I like his classic style too. I feel like adding a tennis pun about how much I liked it, but, alas, I am woefully uneducated in the sport.
Midnight in Paris (2011)
Which brings us to his most recent endeavor, my favorite film of 2011, the simply marvelous and magical Midnight in Paris. I had only seen one or two of his movies before I saw this one, and it ended up being everything I had ever wanted in a modern-day movie. If I had to choose a film from the last, say, decade or so that wasn't Disney that I could rewatch dozens of times without tiring of it, this would be it. First of all, it is a sumptuous banquet for the eyes. Allen takes advantage of Paris to its fullest extent, and I was pretty much reduced to a puddle of joyous tears upon seeing all the locations. Secondly, I can geek out with pride whenever I watch it. All the literary figures behave as you would think they would behave, though a bit caricatured, and when I first saw it the entire theater was chuckling whenever an author or artist was mentioned. Easily the best part was Ernest Hemingway, who was so masculine and such a riot to watch. One of the best scenes, though, is when Gil, played by Owen Wilson, is consulting the surrealists on his predicament. The créme de la créme of great scenes.

Woody Allen is my all-time favorite filmmaker. He will be remembered long in the future as a major god in the pantheon of cinema. Without a doubt, he is my biggest inspiration as an inspiring filmmaker, and I am beyond excited to see his latest feature, the upcoming To Rome with Love, hitting theaters this soon-to-be wonderful summer.

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