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Annie
Hall
viewed March 24, 2000 on laserdisc
For full
information about this film, click
here
Seeing this movie again after several years, and
having gained considerable wisdom in the ways of love, I
have come to regard Woody Allen (or at least his persona
in this, arguably his most autobiographical work) as a
real loser. I
have loved him in the past because his neuroses were
always buffeted by extraordinary comic wit that seemed
triumphant but this movie shows how his one-liners
are really barbed defensive mechanisms against a world
that overwhelms his senses.
As Alvy Singer, Allen is isolationist,
condescending and possessive; there’s not much charm
to this toad he’s ugly to the bone.
It is not always easy to distinguish the
character from the actor, but at least the filmmaker is
able to salvage his appreciation for the beautiful
things in life: largely in the form of Diane Keaton’s
eponymous character and the extraordinary process of
self-discovery that takes place inside her.
It is one of the loveliest performances by a
Hollywood actress: funny, self-effacing, full of life
and a desire to grow and explore.
She is the quintessential liberated American
woman, and though her journey through self-discovery is
not without its missteps, it certainly is less painful
than Allen’s foibles with sexual liberation.
This remains among my favorite films, but less
for Allen’s humor (which becomes more depressing with
each viewing) than for Keaton’s spirit, which goes so
far as to redeem Allen from terminal morbidity.
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