Radio Days (1987)

Director: Woody Allen

Starring: Mia Farrow, Seth Green, Julie Kavner, Dianne Wiest, Michael Tucker, Danny Aiello, Tony Roberts, Jeff Daniels, Seth Green, Woody Allen (narrator)

Since the invention of the television, and other visual and auditory electronic devices, the radio, while it hasn’t been phased out, has taken on a decidedly smaller role in our lives from the one it used to play. That, in essence, is one of the main driving points of “Radio Days,” which is first and foremost a movie about nostalgia for a bygone era. Having been born during the television age, I don’t think that this movie was made with my generation (or the one after mine) in mind. Most of the vignettes are memories the main character associates with radio broadcasts of significant value which he remembers hearing as a child. Some of their real-life counterparts I know of from anecdotes I’ve heard, but I was decades away from being born when they were originally broadcast. I do like it when the TV airs reruns of older shows, or when the radio plays the songs that were hits when my parents were in their teens/early 20’s. As such, this too is not out of a sense of nostalgia, instead it is out of good taste. Same reason I’ve been on this Woody Allen marathon as of late, of which “Radio Days” is the culmination.

As the narrator, director Woody Allen provides the voice of the adult version of the main character for most of the vignettes, a redheaded Jewish boy named Joe (Seth Green) growing up in late 1930’s/early 40’s New York. One of these includes his quest to obtain a secret decoder ring, something to which most young boys can relate. We all tried to pester our parents for that toy we just HAD to have; some of us were just more persuasive than others. Joe’s parents (Julie Kavner, Michael Tucker) are not so easily persuaded, and as the adult Joe glumly reports, he never got that ring. My, how did he ever survive without it?

Occasionally, the radio holds onto the attention of our cast with startling news broadcasts… most of which are genuine. One instance in which the news is fantasy is the infamous “War of the Worlds” broadcast, interrupting an otherwise lovely evening for Joe’s Aunt Bea (Dianne Wiest), revealing her date to be a total coward. The parts about World War II are presented seriously, as well they should be. Maybe my favorite sequence, though, ends up being the news of the little girl trapped down inside a well. This is an otherwise grim situation which is reported so dramatically that it results in that special kind of uncomfortable guffaw. You know you shouldn’t laugh, but you can’t help it.

The parts of “Radio Days” I’m not so fond of are those which revolve around the character of Sally White (Mia Farrow). Whether she’s getting trapped on a rooftop, or whether we’re following her attempts at becoming a radio star, I just want her to go away. It’s that voice. That horrible, godawful voice! Oh, Sally sings just fine, but any time she speaks, that high-pitched, ear-splitting sound emanating from her mouth makes me long for someone to scratch their nails on a chalkboard. Based on her stellar performances in “Rosemary’s Baby,” “Broadway Danny Rose” and “The Purple Rose of Cairo,” I know full well that Mia Farrow is capable of much better things, which is what makes the character of Sally White that much more of a disappointment.

Absolutely not disappointing is the collection of actors with whom Allen has previously worked that make their return here. In addition to Mia Farrow, Dianne Wiest and Julie Kavner, “Radio Days” also features Tony Roberts, Wallace Shawn, Danny Aiello, Jeff Daniels and Diane Keaton. I especially appreciate the return of Keaton, even if it is for just the one song. Wallace Shawn is amusing as the radio actor who provides the voice of the macho superhero, the Masked Avenger, a role he could not have played on television.

The whole point to “Radio Days,” as I have said, is nostalgia for a bygone era. Because I do not share in that nostalgia, my interests in the movie are in whether it is funny (which it is sparingly) and whether the story is interesting. Because there is no one cohesive tale but a series of short happenings, that’s a little harder to grade. Overall, color me underwhelmed, which is a sad thing to say given that this is the film with which I end my Woody Allen marathon. Nostalgia, at its core, is all about looking back at fond memories. The movie series I’m about to switch gears back to (given that tomorrow is another “Friday the 13th”) is nowhere as sophisticated as a Woody Allen movie, but it does hold that certain fondness to which I am referring. I’ll always remember exactly how old I was when I saw them for the first time. I don’t know if I’ll be able to say the same of “Radio Days.”

Hannah and Her Sisters (1986)

Director: Woody Allen

Starring (in alphabetical order): Woody Allen, Michael Caine, Mia Farrow, Carrie Fisher, Barbara Hershey, Lloyd Nolan, Maureen O’Sullivan, Daniel Stern, Max von Sydow, Dianne Wiest

Once again, I have found myself in the position of sitting down to watch a wildly popular film directed by Woody Allen without any idea what to expect and, in all likelihood, requiring many future viewings to truly appreciate it. This is not a knock against his work. Far from it. There’s just so much going on in the multiple plot threads of “Hannah and Her Sisters” that it’s not easily digestible.

Although it’s up in the air just who one could consider as the main character or characters, it is certain that each of the three main story arcs (which run concurrently over a period of two years) has a connection back to Hannah (Mia Farrow). The first one follows Hannah’s current husband, Elliot (Michael Caine) and his irrational but passionate pursuit of her sister Lee (Barbara Hershey), eventually resulting in an affair. Although Lee is not married, she has been living with the artist Frederick (Max von Sydow) for five years. Lee’s problem with Frederick is that his reclusive nature is causing him to rely on her less as a partner in a relationship and more as his last remaining tether to the outside world. This is a responsibility which Lee does not want on her shoulders.

The second arc features Hannah’s ex-husband Mickey (Woody Allen), a television writer. Most of his story is told in flashback, including the reasons for his divorce from Hannah and a subsequent date with her other sister, Holly (Dianne Wiest), a drug-addicted wannabe actress. To say that the date does not go well is truly an understatement. That they do not come to blows is a miracle. Mickey has much bigger things to worry about besides an ex-wife, their twin children via artificial insemination, or her crazy sister. He’s worried half to death that he’s got a brain tumor. When he’s reassured this isn’t the case, his moment of relief is overcome by a new problem: the thought that life is meaningless. Turning to religion proves a fruitless endeavor. At his lowest point, Mickey attempts suicide, but even that doesn’t go as planned. Going to the movies to see the Marx Brothers in “Duck Soup,” he is able to discover what for him is the meaning of life. Personally, “Animal Crackers” would have done it for me, but that’s a discussion for another time.

Holly, with whom Mickey has a second, more successful date, is the focus of the third arc. Her biggest problem is that she feels as though she’s constantly in competition with everyone. In some cases, she’s right. She frequently argues with Hannah and vies for the affection of David (Sam Waterston) against her friend and fellow actress, April (Carrie Fisher). She is also in line for a part in a Broadway play, again losing to April. Finally, when she finds her niche as a writer, the first story she comes up with is one her sister criticizes heavily, accusing Holly of basing it on her and Elliot’s marriage. Of course, Hannah, still completely unaware that Elliot and Lee had been seeing each other behind her back, has only theories as to how Holly could know such intimate details if she (Hannah) is not the one who’s been feeding them to her sister.

Woody Allen’s Oscar-winning screenplay is filled with a lot of fantastic scenes. My favorite is the one in which the three sisters have gone out to eat together. The camera rotates around the table, and as Hannah and Holly bicker with one another, Lee’s growing unease about her own situation is finally getting to her, and she finally has an outburst of her own. Her sisters of course don’t understand where this is coming from, since they don’t have the full story, nor will they. Lee can’t bring herself to confess to her sisters what she and Elliot have been up to. It’s her problem and she’s got to resolve it herself, one way or another.

“Hannah and Her Sisters” is also bolstered by one of Woody Allen’s best casts. It is the only one of his movies which managed to snag two Academy Awards for acting, for Michael Caine and Dianne Wiest. Of the three main story arcs, the one which interests me the most is the Elliot/Lee affair, and it’s all thanks to terrific performances from Michael Caine, who I’ll watch in anything (even his bad movies), and Barbara Hershey (who, among other things, featured in my favorite two-part episode of “Kung Fu”). Even as their relationship threatens to hurt others whom they love if they’re discovered, you can’t help but sympathize with Elliot and Lee in their mutual quest to add some joy to their lives.

Many have ranked “Hannah and Her Sisters” either at or near the top of their lists of favorite Woody Allen films. While I can’t do the same… at least not yet… I can at least recognize that this is a fine film worthy of everyone’s attention. It’s one of those movies which seems better upon reflection. This is a story in which each of its characters searches for an answer. Each of them finds one, even if it wasn’t what they expected. I expect I’ll find mine after I’ve had the chance to see this movie one or two more times.

The Purple Rose of Cairo (1985)

Director: Woody Allen

Starring: Mia Farrow, Jeff Daniels, Danny Aiello

Movies are, for me, the greatest form of escapism that there is. No matter what’s going on with my life or with the rest of the world, I can always sit down to a good movie, immerse myself in the world presented on the screen, and be totally at peace. Once you’ve found one that you really, really love, there’s a certain amount of comfort that goes along with knowing that the events in the movie will always play out the same way. Though I’ve only seen it the one time (so far), I already know that “The Purple Rose of Cairo” is one of those beautiful films which I really, really love. Every time I see it from now on, it will always run for 82 minutes and play out as it should. But the story it presents has nothing at all to do with order or control.

Cecilia (Mia Farrow) is the world’s clumsiest waitress living in New Jersey during the Great Depression. Work sucks, sure, but life at home for Cecilia is even worse. She is married to Monk (Danny Aiello), a drunken and abusive waste of human flesh, whom she has constantly threatened with leaving but never follows through. Where else would she go? At the moment, the only place where she can relax is in the movie theater. A new release from RKO Radio Pictures has caught her attention, a romantic adventure story titled “The Purple Rose of Cairo.” In particular, Cecilia is taken with the archeologist Tom Baxter (Jeff Daniels). She enjoys the movie so much that she goes back to see it over and over again. At Cecilia’s fifth screening, something extraordinary and thoroughly impossible happens: Tom begins to talk directly to her, impressed that she really seems to like his movie, and expressing the same attraction to her that she feels for him. Suddenly, Tom walks right off the black & white screen and into Cecilia’s bright and colorful world!

The sight of a fictional character becoming self-aware and breaking the fourth wall causes some of the other people in the theater to faint. Others are frustrated, demanding their ticket money back. Hilariously, the characters on the screen are just as flummoxed as everyone else. All that they are, all that they know how to be is limited to the narrative of “The Purple Rose of Cairo.” Tom Baxter’s departure has created a level of chaos that neither the characters on the screen nor the studio executives were prepared for. After this initial setup, I wondered to myself we were going to dance around the fact that this would not have been the only copy of the movie in circulation. In fact, it turns out that other theaters have sent in reports that other characters have tried and failed to walk off the screen as Tom Baxter did in New Jersey. If somehow they eventually were to succeed, there could be dozens of Tom Baxters running around! In an attempt to return things to normal, the producer of the film brings Gil Shepherd (Jeff Daniels), the actor whose performance brings life to the character of Tom Baxter, to New Jersey to track down Tom and convince him to go back to the movie.

Tom seems incapable of being persuaded to leave our world. Although he has no real money, no idea how to start a car, and only the most basic concept of love-making, he has fallen in love with Cecilia and that’s enough for him. Things get confused when Cecilia bumps into Gil and initially mistakes him for Tom. They get to know each other and, soon, form an attraction. Cecilia has gone from no one wanting her to two men wanting her… and, as she points out, they’re both the same man. Well, only superficially. Gil is a career-minded opportunist, whereas the character he plays is a devoted and incorruptible man, one who is also pretty handy in a fight seeing as how he can’t be physically harmed. His heart however, is just as fragile as yours or mine.

Director Woody Allen was really thinking outside the box on this one. Although “Purple Rose” is by no means the only movie to have ever come up with the idea of a movie within a movie where characters literally are leaping off of the screen, it may be the one that does it best. It’s one of Allen’s best scripts, and also one of his best casts. Any lingering prejudices I had towards Mia Farrow’s career are now gone after seeing this movie. She had me that invested in Cecilia’s plight. What can you say about Jeff Daniels except that “he’s the man” (“Dumb and Dumber To” notwithstanding)? Funny thing is, the part of Tom Baxter/Gil Shepherd almost wasn’t his. Woody Allen had originally cast Michael Keaton in the part(s), and worked with him for a few days until it was realized that he wasn’t the right fit. Jeff Daniels got the sweet end of that deal, replacing Keaton and turning in a fine double performance. He’s got this look about him that not only says “leading man,” but that he can easily fit himself into a different era. Also great in supporting roles are Dianne Wiest as a hooker intrigued by Tom Baxter’s naivety, and Edward Herrmann as Henry, one of Baxter’s “Purple Rose” co-stars.

Movies have definitely become a big part of my life. There are certain characters over the years which I’ve grown quite attached to. Some include female characters whom I’ve had thoughts about which are totally NSFW. I would probably crap little blue cubes if they ever acknowledged me and stepped out into the real world. Part of the reason why I’ve only ever been to a small handful of conventions in my life is because of that barrier that stands between us and the world of fantasy. Once you’ve broken that barrier by meeting the actor or actress, it makes it real.

Broadway Danny Rose (1984)

Director: Woody Allen

Starring: Woody Allen, Mia Farrow, Nick Apollo Forte

The last thing you want to have happen, when relating a “funny story” to some friends, is to have anyone in the group make the comment, “This isn’t funny at all.” Now you’ve got to stop in your tracks and explain your definition of the word “funny.” It totally kills your momentum, like some ill-advised commercial break. In “Broadway Danny Rose,” seven comedians sit around a table in New York’s Carnegie Deli, all of them swapping stories about Danny Rose (Woody Allen), a talent manager who typically grooms two kinds of people: either those too devoid of talent to make it big, or those with enough talent and enough business sense to seek better management. The stories about him are amusing, yet concise. They escalate, like the scene from “Jaws” where Robert Shaw and Richard Dreyfuss play their “Can you top this?” game of comparing scars. Finally, one of the comedians says he has the “mother of all” Danny Rose stories. This tale, told in flashback (of course), serves as the movie’s main plot.

Among the acts which Danny Rose represented, there was the has-been lounge singer Lou Canova (Nick Apollo Forte), whose career is enjoying a bit of a comeback, even if in small doses. He’s about to hit the big time, though, because Danny has set up a gig which the legendary actor/comedian Milton Berle (appearing as himself) is hosting. If Uncle Miltie likes what he sees, this could lead to bigger and better things for Lou. This would be fantastic, since singing on cruise liners is about the best he can get up to this point. A potential obstacle exists in the form of Lou’s extra-marital affair with Tina (Mia Farrow). Things apparently aren’t going well between the two, and it’s got Lou teetering on the edge of drinking himself unconscious on the eve of his big performance. Not wanting his client to screw himself out of the chance of a lifetime, Danny takes it upon himself to talk to Tina and sort things out.

While all the perfomances in “Broadway Danny Rose” are good, Mia Farrow’s is that much better. In her introductory scene, Tina explodes onto the screen in a very “Hello, world!” kind of way. She’s quick to anger, seemingly never satisfied, and seems to know all the things to say to a man if the objective is to drive him crazy. She also pisses her money away on a crackpot fortune-teller. You know, because she’s incapable of making her own decisions. Right away, the audience can sense that this one is going to be trouble, even as none of the men who take an interest in Tina seem to have the faintest idea. Even as Farrow’s Italian accent fades every now and then, the strength of her overall performance does not.

Tina’s first husband crossed the wrong people, and wound up dying from the sort of lead poisoning which results in two gaping holes where your eyes used to be. The implication is strong that her flirtatious ways were an indirect cause, and this comes up again when Danny runs afoul of one of her more dangerous ex-boyfriends. The man has become convinced, due to Danny’s last name, that Danny is the man who keeps sending single white roses to Tina. This has made him both jealous and suicidal. After nearly killing himself with iodine, the man sends his two hitmen brothers chasing after Danny, who flees the scene with Tina.

The brothers do eventually catch up to their intended targets and, at least for a moment, I wasn’t sure whether or not Danny Rose would survive this story. Had Danny been killed, it’s doubtful that Lou, who drinks himself under the table in Danny’s absence, would not have died from alcohol poisoning. After Danny helps his client to sober up, the show goes on as planned. Unfortunately for Danny, the show will continue to go on without him. Unbeknownst, Tina had previously introduced Lou to another, better manager, and they made a deal behind Danny’s back. Sucks to be him but, hey, that’s show business! Sometime later, after she has exhausted her relationships with Lou and another boyfriend, Tina tries to apologize to Danny. She intrudes on a dinner which Danny is hosting for some of his friends/clients. Danny throws her out at first, but then gives chase to try to patch things up.

Story goes that Woody Allen’s original choice for the part of Lou was to have been Sylvester Stallone, whose Hollywood feature debut was in Allen’s 1971 comedy “Bananas.” 1984 also saw the release of a musical comedy pairing Stallone with Dolly Parton called “Rhinestone.” Anyone who knows anything about that movie knows that Stallone’s talents do not include singing. You know there’d have to be a certain amount of dubbing going on to make that work. Although it might have been worth it just to see Stallone getting drunk and passing out onto the floor. But I digress.

Where the ending is concerned, I’m leaning towards wanting to say that “Broadway Danny Rose” is about four minutes too long. It’s almost as if it ends this way not because it’s the natural conclusion, but because it’s the one the audience wants to see. While that may be true for some, I’m not sold on it. This story was built up by the comedian telling it as being the “mother of all” Danny Rose stories. While a well-acted and well-directed movie, it’s not even the “mother of all” Woody Allen films.

Zelig (1983)

Director: Woody Allen

Starring: Woody Allen, Mia Farrow

A common conceit of biographies is that the subject, being deceased, is unable to speak on his or her own behalf. There are ways around this, with the right amount of research and testimony from key eyewitnesses. Competently composed, the resulting documentary can be both informative and entertaining. Still, you’d like to be able to know from the horse’s own mouth what he was thinking or feeling. Especially if that person existed as recently as the twentieth century, then there’s no problem. That’s why we invented the movie camera.

Leonard Zelig (Woody Allen) was a man with a most unusual talent. Slipping in and out of the public eye during the 1920’s and 1930’s, Zelig wanted more than most to fit in with the crowd and so, through means that continue to defy reasoned explanation, was able to transform himself in a most chameleon-like way. Put him in a room with a shrink, and he would engage in psychological debates. Let him near the New York Yankees, he’d behave as though he was a member of the team. Depending on a politician’s party affiliation, Zelig could become either Democrat or Republican. He could instantly begin to mimic the accents and languages of anyone from any corner of the world. No matter whether people he came in contact with were white, black, Asian, Native American, thin or obese, Zelig’s physical appearance could change to appear just like that person.

It’s stuff like this which made Zelig a national sensation. Movies and songs were written about him. The big dance craze of the day was the Chameleon. But as seems to happen so often in the life of a celebrity, in the wake of a sex scandal, Zelig’s star would fall just as easily as it rose. In between it all, there was only one person capable of breaking Zelig out of his compulsive physical and mental mutations, the psychiatrist Dr. Eudora Fletcher (Mia Farrow). After many sessions of trial and error, Dr. Fletcher decided to pretend that she, too, was someone who had to constantly change her personality to blend in. It worked. Zelig’s cycle of transformation was broken and he could finally begin to start living a normal life. The sex scandal screwed that up, of course, and it left Dr. Fletcher, who had come to love Zelig, to undertake a dangerous trek into pre-WWII Nazi Germany in search of him, which is chronicled in the documentary’s final ten or so minutes.

After the disappointing “A Midsummer Night’s Sex Comedy,” I was looking for something a bit different from Woody Allen. With the mockumentary “Zelig,” I could not have asked for a larger deviation from the norm. The imagination that went into this project is awe-inspiring. As someone who enjoys the occasional documentaries on PBS, the History channel and the Travel channel, I applaud Allen for giving his movie the authenticity it requires. The newsreel footage all looks accurate for the period, thanks to some deliberate scratching of the film to help give it that long-ago look. Because Zelig hobnobs with a lot of real-life figures, including various Hollywood actors, two U.S. Presidents and Adolf Hitler, Allen needed for himself and Mia Farrow to be spliced into the scenes with these historical figures. The results are virtually seamless, and the technology used would help inspire similar technical achievements in films like “Forrest Gump.”

Also surprising is Mia Farrow, after her bland performance in “A Midsummer Night’s Sex Comedy.” Had she been similarly sub-par here, it would have sunk “Zelig” entirely. I completely bought her as a psychiatrist who first takes on the Zelig case to make a name for herself, switching gears when she hears him admit he’s fallen in love with her and, then, discovering that she feels the same. In the end, though, the special effects of “Zelig” are its strongest point. They are, in every way, above average. The story of the man called Zelig, with extra points for creativity, is merely “good.”

A Midsummer Night’s Sex Comedy (1982)

Director: Woody Allen

Starring: Woody Allen, Mia Farrow, Jose Ferrer, Julie Hagerty, Tony Roberts, Mary Steenburgen

The idea that any of the six characters in this movie actually engage each other in the act of copulation leaves me feeling a bit nauseous. Fitting, given that’s typically the default reaction displayed by many of the men which Allen himself has portrayed over the years. It’s applicable here because of the ease in which they hop around between partners, with little beyond animal instinct to explain their actions. Although the line never comes up during the 88 minutes of “A Midsummer Night’s Sex Comedy,” that’s not to say that Allen’s character doesn’t come equipped with other hang-ups. Why shouldn’t he? Just look at the company he keeps.

From the moment I popped the DVD in, I knew I was screwed. Woody Allen plays Andrew, a crackpot inventor living in the early 1900’s whose marriage is suffering from trouble in the bedroom. Who plays Adrian, his wife? Mary Steenburgen. I’ve only ever seen this actress in one movie where I found her tolerable: 1978’s “Goin’ South,” in which her co-star was Jack Nicholson. I hoped that, perhaps, this being another period piece and the presence of another Hollywood legend would help out as with that other movie. It did not. Strike One! For Andrew, things get decidedly more complicated when it’s revealed that Adrian’s cousin Leopold (Jose Ferrer) is going to be spending the weekend with them and is bringing his bride-to-be, Ariel, with him. Andrew, who lusted after Ariel in the past and regrets not having acted upon it, freaks out. Ariel is played by Mia Farrow, who was terrific in “Rosemary’s Baby” but, like Steenburgen, grates on the nerves otherwise. The knowledge that her part was originally written for Diane Keaton (Woody Allen’s greatest on-screen partner) cannot be held against her, but doesn’t help matters either. We’re supposed to buy that all three men, at one time or another, want this woman badly. Never once do I get how the bland Ariel can be quite so desirable, and I can’t help thinking that Keaton might have been able to pull it off. Farrow has several Woody Allen films after this with which to correct my unfortunate impression of her but, for now, I call this “Strike Two!”

Help arrives in the form of Andrew’s doctor friend, Maxwell (Tony Roberts), who brings with him his nurse, Dulcy (Julie Hagerty). As she has done throughout her career, Hagerty uses her timid-sounding voice to her advantage. Dulcy is somewhat of an expert in the art of getting busy with the opposite sex. Maxwell knows this, hence the reason Dulcy is here. Julie Hagerty gets many of the movie’s best lines, especially in the scene where Dulcy is matter-of-factly answering questions which Adrian has about finding new ways to please Andrew. No doubt about it, Julie Hagerty is the stand-out of “A Midsummer Night’s Sex Comedy.”

Finally, we come to the glorified plot device of the movie… Andrew’s inventions. I’ll stop short of calling them the only reason for the 1900’s setting, because the plot of “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” is based on Ingmar Bergman’s “Smiles of a Summer Night,” which also features partner-swapping and is also set at the turn of the 20th century. The good: Andrew’s flying bicycle. Never mind the fact that this contraption always eventually comes crashing back down to Earth, or that none of its passengers ever seem to need medical attention after these violent landings. While it’s in the air, it’s simply fun to watch. The bad… or more accurately, the odd: whatever you call that spinning gizmo that is supposedly either a window into the past, future or the afterlife. Doesn’t really matter how it works, or what Andrew used in building the damn thing, neither of which we ever learn. What does matter is that it is really only here for the purposes of servicing the out-of-nowhere punchline ending. Strike Three!

Now, I recognize that not every director can piece together a winner every time. When you have a career that spans the decades as his does, disappointing titles like “Alice,” “Shadows and Fog,” and “A Midsummer Night’s Sex Comedy” are bound to slip through the cracks. When stinkers such as these do crop up, I am always consoled by the fact that they are in most cases followed up by true works of art. Here’s to hoping for a continuation of that trend.

Stardust Memories (1980)

Director: Woody Allen

Starring: Woody Allen, Charlotte Rampling, Jessica Harper, Marie-Christine Barrault, Tony Roberts

I would never want to trade places with a celebrity. Life is hard enough without your every move being watched and scrutinized. To have to deal with paparazzi (the only legalized form of stalking), crazy fans who can’t tell the difference between the characters on the screen and the actors who portray them, critics who think themselves smarter than everyone else, and studio executives who think they know even more because they have all the money… No thanks. Other people can have that life, but not me. I can’t conceive of how I could ever enjoy myself, always wishing I were somewhere else. Maybe even somewhen else. I value my privacy far too much.

Sandy Bates (Woody Allen) is an award-winning filmmaker who is battling with the studio over how his latest movie should resolve itself, and dealing with an inept housekeeper who is one step away from burning down the house while trying to cook a rabbit. At the same time, he is attending a film festival where all the crazies come out. The consensus among the critics is that they prefer his “earlier, funnier movies.” Fans randomly approach him for autographs, rookie actors/writers try to impress him with their script ideas, and the ladies all want to be with him. Sandy probably feels a lot like a Stretch Armstrong toy. One female fan, wearing a T-shirt bearing Sandy’s image, even sneaks into his bedroom looking for “meaningless sex.” She can’t understand his hesitation. It’s not that he doesn’t want to (and he eventually does consent), but he’s at a point in his life where only real and honest love will make him feel anything.

The women in Woody Allen’s films have always played a strong role, and it is no different with “Stardust Memories.” In the present time, Sandy finds himself trying to balance attractions he feels for two different ladies: the motherly Isobel (Marie-Christine Barrault), and the intellectual, dark and mysterious Daisy (Jessica Harper). Isobel presents the possibility of a stable relationship, even as she has two loud and troublesome children from the marriage she left to be with Sandy. Daisy, meanwhile, is more of a puzzle to be solved. There’s less chance of a happy ending with her, but Sandy is intrigued all the same. Part of it is because there’s something about her that reminds him of Dorrie (Charlotte Rampling), a former lover who had an unstable personality but is nonetheless representative of a brief window in time when, to Sandy, the world seemed perfect. Often, he finds his mind drifting back to memories of time shared with Dorrie for that very reason.

Allen’s previous films (excluding “Interiors,” which he directed but did not star) all spotlighted either one or two women in particular. Because he highlights three in “Stardust Memories,” it could be said that none of them gets as many scenes as they should. This is especially true in the case of Daisy. Whether because of my adoration for Jessica Harper, or because Daisy is simply a more interesting character, I found myself wishing we could get to know her a little bit more than we do. Allen also has a knack for giving future Hollywood stars their first big break. In the first scene of “Stardust Memories,” when Sandy looks through the window of his train and sees the more lively group of passengers on the adjacent train, it’s Sharon Stone who blows him a kiss.

“Stardust Memories” is Allen’s homage to Federico Fellini’s “8 1/2.” It really helps to have seen that movie before seeing this one in terms of being wise to all the references, the most obvious one being the opening scene onboard the train, replacing the car from “8 1/2.” I don’t know if I’d go so far as to say that either film helps you understand the other. Both are about filmmakers stuck in a creative rut, and neither follows a traditional Hollywood narrative. You’ll find yourself constantly struggling during “Stardust Memories” to figure out just what the hell is going on. Just keep in mind the following: everything after the rabbit scene is a dream.

For whatever reason, “Stardust Memories” did not go over very well with fans and critics. I assume that’s because they perceived the movie as presenting an angry tone directed towards them. One of the critics depicted in the film even bears a slight physical resemblance to Roger Ebert, who assigned a mere two-star rating. I would hope the harsh criticism comes from a general confusion about the plot and not from some misguided offense taken because they can’t recognize a parody when they see one. When Allen represents Sandy’s fans as grotesque and clownish, and his critics as pompous know-it-alls, he’s not writing an autobiography here. He is letting you get inside his head, yes, but only to share in his appreciation for the films he’s come to love, which as usual includes both Fellini and Ingmar Bergman. I appreciate that, although he has a certain style of filmmaking that he likes, Allen is not opposed to trying to shake things up. Movies like “Annie Hall” and “Manhattan,” as well as those “earlier, funnier” films of his, are all great… but there’d be no sense in him just remaking those same movies over and over. Particularly if you are doing a marathon of them, which I am in the process of, that could get boring really quickly.

This one, I think, definitely ranks on the high-end of the spectrum for me. It may not be as easy to follow as some of Allen’s more popular titles, but that can only be because it’s so deceptively dense. Multiple viewings are a must in order to take in everything “Stardust Memories” has to offer but, given that it’s only an 88-minute movie, I don’t see that being a problem. Just as Daisy does for Sandy, “Stardust Memories” has that quality about it that persuades me to keep coming back for more.

Manhattan (1979)

Director: Woody Allen

Starring: Woody Allen, Diane Keaton, Michael Murphy, Mariel Hemingway, Meryl Streep, Anne Byrne

Anyone who has ever displayed an interest in writing, whether for entertainment or journalistic purposes, knows exactly what’s going through Woody Allen’s mind during the opening scene of “Manhattan.” He’s on Chapter One of a new novel about a guy from New York who absolutely loves his city. His problem is that he can’t get the words to come out quite right. It’s all coming off either too preachy, too angry, or otherwise just plain wrong. Finally, after much backtracking, he stumbles upon what to him sounds like the right introduction to both the main character and his story. It’s a satisfying feeling, knowing that you’re on the right track and could be on the verge of creating something special. What’s particularly special about this three and a half minute beginning to “Manhattan” is that it is set to the music of George Gershwin’s “Rhapsody in Blue,” a tune that has become synonymous with the city of New York itself. Introductions like this are hard to come by, and the one bestowed upon “Manhattan” is one of the greatest of any movie I’ve ever seen.

Isaac Davis (Woody Allen) is a 42-year old writer for television comedy. Rather bad television comedy, as he and associates of his are quick to point out. Eventually, he becomes so frustrated with his job and the drug addicts who work with him that he impulsively walks out. Unfortunately for Isaac, acts of impulse are a common thread, especially when it comes to the women in his life. When we first meet Isaac, he’s in the middle of a relationship with a sweet-natured 17-year old girl named Tracy (Mariel Hemingway). He’s older than Tracy’s own father, he observes. Part of him recognizes the immoral, socially unacceptable nature of the relationship, and part of him doesn’t care. Isaac is also twice divorced. His second wife, a bisexual-turned-lesbian named Jill (Meryl Streep), is writing a tell-all book about their marriage. Naturally, Isaac finds this disgusting and humiliating, as it will mean that all of his friends will know every last juicy detail. He tries to force the issue, to no avail. Not exactly the most mature behavior on either person’s part.

The immaturity does not end with Isaac and his former partner. Isaac’s best friend Yale (Michael Murphy) is endangering his marriage with an affair with Mary (Diane Keaton), an opinionated, self-appointed art critic and writer of film novelizations. She uses big words to make herself sound more brilliant than she actually is, and makes observations like “I’m from Philadelphia. We believe in God,” as if everyone is supposed to know what she means. Mary and Isaac have virtually nothing in common, apart from their ability to enter into a relationship they know is wrong.

Upon this first meeting, Isaac finds Mary repulsive. Later, upon further encounters, Isaac finds himself growing strangely attracted to Mary. Although one should not always go with their first impression of another person, Isaac should have listened to his instincts this time, especially as his decision comes at the expense of Tracy and their relationship. Eventually, Mary proves just how flighty she can be, deciding that she was in fact in love with Yale all along and going off to live with him after he leaves his wife. They deserve each other. Hard to say what Isaac deserves, but can it really be someone as kind and as sweet as Tracy? He certainly thinks so, as her image comes to mind when he asks himself “What makes life worth living?” He catches Tracy just as she’s about to go to London for six months, as Isaac had suggested she do when he was trying to end things between them. Isaac pleads with her not to go. “I don’t want that thing about you that I like to change,” he tells her. It’s in this moment when you realize that Isaac could just as easily be talking to/about the city of New York.

What a bunch of assholes these people are, huh? But the actors playing them are nothing short of professional, and all are at the top of their game. Keaton proves once again why she’s just a great on-screen match for Woody Allen. The chemistry between them is undeniable. At tonight’s Academy Awards, Meryl Streep finds herself nominated for an acting award for the 19th time. Though her unparalleled career was still in its early stages in 1979, she nonetheless provides a terrific supporting performance. Jill’s unashamed confessional about her marriage to Isaac puts to mind all the singers over the years who’ve turned out hit songs based on their failed relationships, and how the airing of their dirty laundry is sometimes scrutinized. It may not be particularly tactful of her, but we can’t entirely fault her for it, either. We weren’t there for the marriage itself, only the messy aftermath.

The best acting in the movie, hands down, comes from Mariel Hemingway. She presents Tracy as a very loving individual, perhaps a bit too eager to put her trust in others but, as Isaac said, we like that about her. Most importantly, she’s very mature for her age. Despite this, her age is the very thing that is always held against her, even by Isaac whom she loves. As it so happens, among this group of selfish, spiteful and flaky adults, Tracy comes off as more mature than any of them. Folks, Hemingway will break your heart in “Manhattan.” Woody Allen himself could not have come up with a more autobiographical role. As it turns out, he really did have a 17-year old girlfriend when he was aged 42. His relationship with actress Stacey Nelkin, which he did not publicly acknowledge until fairly recently, is said (by Nelkin) to have been the basis for “Manhattan.” Additionally, in the years since the movie, Allen has had a tell-all book written about him by an ex: his girlfriend of 12 years, actress Mia Farrow. He couldn’t possibly have seen that one coming. Doesn’t make it any less bizarre. Even though it stands as one of his all-time greatest films (and my second favorite behind only “Annie Hall”), Allen himself was so displeased with his own work that he asked United Artists not to release it, instead offering to make another movie for free. Thank goodness the studio made him see reason. “Manhattan” takes the best parts of “Annie Hall” and “Interiors” and combines them into a single, classic accomplishment of filmmaking.

Beyond the great performances and the strange blurring of the lines between fiction and fact, “Manhattan” is also further enhanced by its sights and sounds. Kids today don’t seem to understand that Black & White does not automatically make a movie “old” or “boring.” When used effectively, as it is in “Manhattan,” it makes the film a more personal experience. Scenes like the famous bridge shot would not have the same power if shown in Color. The music is just as important, becoming an additional character within the movie. You must have a heart of stone if you’re not emotionally stirred by “Rhapsody in Blue,” or the instrumental versions of “Someone to Watch Over Me” and “Embraceable You.” Admittedly, it took me until my third viewing of “Manhattan” to finally “get it.” Like Isaac, I had been put off by the ugliness of the adult characters while simultaneously failing to appreciate the beauty that was right in front of my face.

Interiors (1978)

Director: Woody Allen

Starring (in alphabetical order): Kristin Griffith, Mary Beth Hurt, Richard Jordan, Diane Keaton, E.G. Marshall, Geraldine Page, Maureen Stapleton, Sam Waterston

Unhappiness and resentment, unchecked, leads only to more unhappiness and resentment. “I’ve never been able fulfill my dreams, and it’s all YOUR fault!” Like a volcano, the emotions build and build until the eventual eruption burns away everything that was good about the relationship. Time to make a clean break. But what if there are kids involved? Depends… Are the ‘children’ fully grown adults? If so, surely they’d be better equipped to handle the bombshell that’s about to be dropped in their laps, right? If they’re anything like their parents, any brave face they put on in public is merely a mask that shelters their own insecurities.

The three daughters of Arthur (E.G. Marshall) and Eve (Geraldine Page) are stunned when Arthur abruptly announces at the dinner table that he’s leaving Eve and choosing to live alone. None are more shocked by the news than Eve who, as an interior decorator, is used to a certain degree of order to her life where everything fits in its proper place. The idea that her husband wants out of their marriage is too much for poor Eve to bear, and results in suicidal tendencies that causes her well-being to weigh heavily on the minds of her children. It’s not as though they don’t have enough about their own lives that they wish they could change. Flyn (Kristin Griffith) is an actress who stars in second-rate movies, desiring to be taken seriously in her profession instead of being looked upon as merely a pretty face. Renata (Diane Keaton) is a poet whose own self-criticism is rivaled by that of her husband Frederick (Richard Jordan), a writer whose failings leave him feeling hopelessly inferior to his wife. At least they’ve found their chosen career paths. Joey (Mary Beth Hurt) isn’t so lucky. She doesn’t understand why Mike (Sam Waterston) would stick around with someone as aimless as her, let alone want to have children with her.

The real shock is when Arthur returns from his time away with a new, more “normal” girlfriend, Pearl (Maureen Stapelton), whom he met on a cruise and intends to marry. Joey is outright appalled. Renata is more supportive, but is disappointed when her father shows more concern for Joey’s lack of direction. Renata has always been jealous of her father’s perceived favoritism towards Joey who, in turn, says the same about Renata and their mother. All three daughters know what the news of Arthur and Pearl will do to their mother’s psyche. Up until now, she’s been holding out hope that all will right itself and that Arthur would eventually come back to her.

If this family is collectively guilty of any one crime, it is that they have spent too much time together. It’s clear from the moment we are introduced to them that all each person wants is to live their own lives. If left to their own devices, it would be tough to say that they could actually accomplish this. By the time the movie reaches its conclusion, the thought remains that whatever hurts they have accumulated as a unit, the current generation will separately carry on with them to the end of their days.

Depressing and dark though its subject matter can be, “Interiors” is really a beautiful movie. Woody Allen’s tribute to Swedish cinema, it was the most atypical of his movies up to that point. Any humor to be found is purely incidental. “Interiors” is not burdened by distractions. Keeping the cast small was key, as it allows the audience to become intimately involved with his characters, who are serviced by the plot instead of the other way around. Loathsome though their behavior is at times, these eight individuals all feel like real people. My favorite is Frederick, excellently played by Richard Jordan. He’s a drunkard wallowing in self-pity and jealousy, with a touch of lust directed at Renata’s sister, Flyn. What a schmuck, but I like him anyway!

Most striking about “Interiors” is the impeccable way in which certain scenes are shot. There is the opening shot, an empty, silent house which has been been beautifully decorated. I’m told it would be hard not to think of director Ingmar Bergman, which Allen has often referenced during his career, if one were more familiar with Bergman’s work. I really must look into that. Regardless of your familiarity with the source material, the scene is still very well shot. But the one I think about most is a curious choice of camerawork during one of Renata and Frederick’s arguments. She’s about to go out to some type of social gathering where people dress formally, and he’s too drunk and too pissed off about his short-comings to care enough to attend. Instead of framing this scene as if standing in the room with them as they bicker, or as a POV shot from one or the other character’s perspectives, the camera is instead hiding at the top of the stairs like an eavesdropping child. Absolutely perfect.

Never having seen “Interiors” before now and having no idea what to expect, I was dazzled by just how good this movie turned out to be. Apparently, so was Woody Allen, who was afraid all through production that it would turn out to be a bomb. He needn’t have been so concerned. “Interiors” features his most fleshed-out characters and a troupe of excellent actors to bring them to life. What more could a director ask for? Though it runs short of laughs, heart is not something which “Interiors” lacks. With a movie like this, it’s what’s on the inside that counts most of all.

Love and Death (1975)

Director: Woody Allen

Starring: Woody Allen, Diane Keaton

Several of Woody Allen’s early films, on top of being slapstick comedy, all deal with a common theme: Revolution. “Bananas” and “Sleeper” both featured plot which centered around political uprisings whose ultimate goal was the overthrow of the oppressive government in charge, with varying degrees of success. In each film, Allen played a man who cared for love, not war, yet found himself carrying out the game-changing mission all the same. With “Love and Death,” Allen once again reached for this kind of story … with varying degrees of success.

Boris Grushenko (Woody Allen) is a man who wants nothing to do with war or fighting, and yet never seems to be able to get himself out of it, try though he might. Boris is considered a coward for not standing up in defense of Mother Russia, even by his own mother. What he wants most of all is to be married to his cousin, twice removed, Sonja (Diane Keaton). Sadly, he is disappointed to learn that she is marrying another. To make matters worse, Boris is enlisted in the Army and becomes a war hero completely by accident. Later, Sonja’s husband dies tragically and, after Boris becomes engaged in a duel, she promises to marry him… but only because she believes he’s about to die. He doesn’t, and their marriage is poverty-stricken and filled with philosophical debate. Hey, at least they’re both intellectuals, right? Where they really run into trouble is when the French, led by Napoleon Bonaparte, decide to invade. Sonja gets it into her head that it’s up to them to put a stop to Napoleon. Boris, who has been shown to be preoccupied with death (particularly his own) doesn’t like the sound of this, but goes along with the doomed plot anyway.

A parody of Russian literature, with special nod to both Dostoyevsky and Tolstoy, admittedly there’s probably a lot of in-joke references which get lost on me. In the case of Allen’s own work, the foreknowledge of his succeeding films at least helps one appreciate what he was trying to do with “Love and Death.” Falling between “Sleeper” and “Annie Hall,” “Love and Death” serves as a transitional piece between Allen’s early, silly comedies and his later, more serious efforts, much in the same way that The Beatles’ “Revolver” album bridges the gap between the group’s previous achievements and the game-changing music that was still yet to come.

Not the biggest Diane Keaton fan, I can still honestly say that Woody Allen always brings out the best in her. This time he truly needed her, as she’s easily the best thing “Love and Death” has going for it. Most everyone else seems to be working on autopilot. Even Allen himself is really reaching for laughs on this one. He will string several cliched one liners together, and then try to save the moment by commenting in-character on the fact that those lines are cliched. His occasional breaking of the fourth wall, on the other hand is always welcome. Another thing I can appreciate about Allen’s films is the appearance of familiar faces among the supporting cast. Playing the part of Napoleon is James Tolkan, who no matter what else I see him in will always be recognizable to me as Mr. Strickland from “Back to the Future.” Likewise, Jessica Harper will surely remain most familiar to me for Dario Argento’s “Suspiria.” Although Harper did not come up while I was sampling some of Argento’s other titles back in December 2014, I am happy to know that I will see her again in Woody Allen’s “Stardust Memories.”

I had seen “Love and Death” once before but, as is so often the case, I hadn’t remembered much from the actual plot. I only remembered that I had found it amusing. To my crushing disappointment, the movie isn’t half as clever or witty as I had recalled. Allen referred to it as his funniest film up to that point. I wish I could agree. In fact, I cannot recall laughing more than once during the entire first half. The second half is better, as I have mentioned, thanks in large part to Diane Keaton. There’s one marvelous deadpan exchange of dialogue towards the end between Keaton and Jessica Harper that I swear is probably ten times as funny if you’re high. If the rest of the movie had been like that, Allen might have been on to something. It might be worth seeing once… or twice, depending on how long you wait in-between screenings. Beyond that, let this revolution go on without you.