Showing posts with label Diane Keaton. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Diane Keaton. Show all posts

Sunday, January 3, 2021

Manhattan

 SPOILER ALERT! The plot will be discussed.


In Manhattan (1979), Woody Allen, who stars, co-wrote, and directed the film, shows his love for the New York City island through the movie’s cinematography, courtesy of Gordon Willis, and the soundtrack. But, the story shows romance between individuals to be an elusive, incomprehensible, and sometimes heartbreaking experience.



 

The film is in black and white which suggests an imagined as opposed to realistic view of the city and its inhabitants. It opens with shots of the Manhattan skyline and throughout the movie there are many images of famous New York City locales which provide a definite sense of the setting. The opening music is from George Gershwin's “Rhapsody in Blue,” which starts slow and breezy, like walkers on the street, and then soars as do the city’s skyscrapers. Allen doesn’t want to spoil the mood with credits so he announces the title of his movie with a blinking building sign that reads “Manhattan.” A voice-over from Isaac (Allen), a successful television writer (Allen’s old job), shows him struggling to capture in words what he feels for this place that enthralls him. But his narration reveals that he “over romanticizes” almost everything, which means that nothing can live up to his fantasies. His complaint about those unappealing aspects of the city, such as the garbage and the drug usage, reveals him to be someone who would rather live in an idealized nostalgic past than in the here and now. As the music reaches its crescendo, it is matched visually with fireworks exploding over the lit buildings at night.

 

Isaac is having dinner with his girlfriend, Tracy (Mariel Hemmingway). Now this is the uncomfortable part, because he is forty-two years old and she is seventeen and goes to high school. But, within the context of the film the age difference is ironic, because she acts more mature than he does. In addition, her youth symbolizes for him a romantic ideal unspoiled by life’s corruptions. But, Isaac is also very aware of the age difference and goes through the story feeling guilty about her youth instead of really seeing her intrinsic worth. They are at the noted eatery, Elaine’s, with Isaac’s friend, Yale (Michael Murphy) (His name communicates northeastern intellectualism), and his wife, Emily (Anne Byrne Hoffman). Yale is waxing on about how art helps to enlighten a person as to how to “get in touch” with one’s feelings. Isaac says that artistic “talent is luck. The important thing in life is courage.” He asks if any of them would jump into icy water to save a drowning man. He jokingly says he’s off the hook because he can’t swim. It is an interesting statement since the rest of the story shows Isaac to be a coward when it comes to emotional commitment. This inability to maturely connect in a relationship is reflected in the fact that Isaac has two failed marriages. His second wife, Jill (Meryl Streep), is writing a book about their union. The movie is intolerant of tell-all books that invade people’s privacy.

 

As Isaac and Yale walk ahead of the women, Yale admits that he has become seriously involved in the prior two months with someone else, a female journalist named Mary (Diane Keaton), and doesn’t know how to proceed. He admits to having a couple of earlier flirtations, and yet he says how much he loves his wife. Yale obviously is another clueless male trying to navigate the romantic road without a sense of direction. At least Isaac knows he is not the one to ask for advice on the subject. He says when it comes to relationships he is “the winner of the August Strindberg award,” a literary reference to the dramatist who was a misogynist. It is a funny line, but does not paint Isaac as someone who truly values women.

 

At home, Emily asks Yale if he has given more thought to having children, which is a normal question for a serious couple to consider. But, the immature Yale says, “Oh, my God. Kids,” like it’s an unreasonable topic for discussion. He then comes up with selfish excuses not to be a parent, such as getting a book finished and acquiring money to start up a magazine. She mentions their plan to move to Connecticut, but he says all of his “stuff” is there in New York. He sounds like a child who doesn't want to put away his toys. He goes so far as to say he can’t “abandon” Isaac, as if he's a playground pal who can’t function without his childhood friend.


 Isaac confronts his ex-wife Jill about her book. He argues how revealing details about what should be left behind closed doors would be humiliating if disclosed in public. She is humorless and says it is “an honest account of their breakup.” Although some may say that public figures, such as Isaac, known for his writing, are subject to different rules than the rest of the population. But, the film argues that despite invoking honesty as the justification to disclose information to the public, there are private topics that nobody has a right to know. From today’s viewpoint, Isaac’s sarcastic question asking whether his son is playing baseball or “wearing a dress” seems intolerant. Jill is now in a lesbian relationship and Isaac obviously subscribes to outmoded notions of sexual orientation. His stance is that Jill acted as an “immoral, psychotic, promiscuous” person. Obviously, Jill’s idea of honesty differs from that of Isaac, raising the question as to how objective are the types of books told from one person’s perspective.

 

In Isaac’s dark and spacious apartment (Roger Ebert notes in The Great Movies that the shot shows how empty Isaac’s life really is), Isaac keeps telling Tracy, who confesses her love for him, that he is just a “detour” on her life’s road. She says she has had three intimate relationships at her young age and found those boys too immature for her. He is giving her sound advice about not focusing on him. But, he has fostered the relationship, selfishly using her emotional and physical closeness while also attempting to distance her. 


Despite their age difference, Tracy and Isaac agree on what they appreciate, such as movies and art. At a museum they meet Yale and the woman he has been seeing, Mary, who completely disagrees with Isaac about which exhibits are praiseworthy. Mary is pretentious as she says a piece of sculpture has “a marvelous kind of negative capability.” That phrase comes from an observation by John Keats about the works of William Shakespeare. She continues to flaunt her intellectualism by talking about writing for a literary periodical. When she asks what Tracy does, the unapologetic, unassuming young woman says, “I go to high school.” Mary’s esoteric comment, “Somewhere Nabokov is smiling,” makes a reference to the writer’s Lolita which dealt with an older man’s obsession with a young girl. Yale adds to the condescension by placing people such as Gustave Mahler, Isak Dinesen, Carl Yung, Lenny Bruce, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Norman Mailer, Vincent Van Gogh, and Allen’s favorite director, Ingmar Bergman, in the “Academy of the Overrated.” Allen punctures their elitist attitude by saying that all these figures are “terrific,” and says why not throw in Mozart since they are “trashing” people. Obviously, Allen is well read, but he has contempt for those who broadcast their knowledge in a snobbish, and sometimes inaccurate, manner. In contrast to Mary’s self-important proclamations, Isaac and Tracy do the needed mundane activity of shopping. Isaac tells Tracy that Yale is a sucker for women like Mary, which doesn’t say much for Yale. This film may be one of Allen’s most conservative movies, as he tells Tracy he doesn’t believe in extra-marital affairs. He says, “I think people should mate for life, like pigeons and Catholics.” 

 

While showing contempt for “pseudo-intellectual” types, Isaac also can’t tolerate the dumbing down of society by way of the TV programs that are sort of circus sideshows that he has become involved in. One of them is comically entitled, “Human Beings - Wow.” One episode exploits an affliction for supposedly humorous entertainment by featuring a catatonic woman. Isaac loudly argues against this type of so-called comedy, saying it is not funny. He says, “standards have been lowered over the years,” and have now reached a nadir. One of the men in the production booth tells him to calm down by taking a Quaalude. Again, we have a reactionary response, in this case to drug usage. Isaac tells the young people there that they think the material they are programming is funny because of all the drugs they are taking. He says to them, “you should abandon the show and open a pharmaceutical house.” He has the strength of his convictions here, and quits. Upon reflection, his pragmatic side surfaces and he complains to Yale that he will have to cut back on the expenses that allow him to enjoy all of the cultural perks that Manhattan has to offer. But, he hopes his book will eventually come out (the one he was dictating at the beginning of the movie).

 

At a dedication at the Museum of Modern Art Isaac again encounters Mary. We once more see Isaac’s no-nonsense approach compared to the mental over-analyzing, and thus passive, manner of other New Yorkers. He mentions about a Nazi march that is scheduled to occur in New Jersey. He urges that they have to get some people together with “some bricks and baseball bats and explain things to ‘em.” One man there says there was a “devastating satirical piece” on this event in the New York Times. For Isaac, that approach of retaliation is like bringing a rolled-up newspaper to a gunfight. He counters with, “bricks get right to the point,” and “physical force is better with Nazis.” One man, Dennis (Michael O'Donoghue, who used to write for Saturday Night Live), changes the topic by saying they were talking about “orgasms.” One woman there says she finally had an orgasm but her doctor told her it was “the wrong kind.” Isaac leans backwards in surprise and he looks sideways at the woman as if she is from another planet. He says, “I’ve never had the wrong kind. Ever.” The movie satirizes these New Yorkers who overthink everything to the point of sabotaging their own pleasure.


Isaac and Mary share a cab ride and Isaac comments that her friends are like characters out of a Fellini movie, implying they resemble the filmmaker’s portrayal of grotesque individuals. Mary says she divorced her husband, Jeremiah, because she “was tired of submerging my identity to a brilliant, dominating man.” She says he was a “genius,” which is the way she describes many people. Isaac continues to ground the discussion by saying instead of listening to all these geniuses, she should “meet some stupid people. You could learn something.” She says that he is probably with a young girl because she is less threatening, given his experience, than being with a more mature woman. When he questions her cold analytical assessment, she says she is “honest.” But again, as with Jill’s book, honesty not tempered with compassion can be destructive. Mary says, according to what she has read, since she does not have experiential knowledge, that his son should be fine being raised by two mothers. His funny response is, “Really? Because I feel very few people survive one mother.” 

 

The music in the movie is from classic romantic ballads that stress the hardships of relationships. He asks if she is serious about Yale, perhaps because he is now becoming interested in her. The two start to get to know each other and Mary begins to appreciate Isaac’s humorous side. She still over-analyzes things, saying her dachshund is a penis substitute. She asks about his book which he says is about “decaying values,” which has already been stressed in the movie thus far. The iconic shot from the film shows them in a moody, romantic black and gray image sitting on a bench next to a bridge, possibly suggesting attempts by people to connect with each other. 

 

Isaac is now openly disappointed after talking to Yale on the phone and hearing that he is still interested in Mary. She and Yale are out shopping and the two of them show ambivalent feelings toward each other which mirror Isaac’s attitude about Tracy. Mary questions being with a married man and says she doesn’t want to break up a marriage when he offers to move out of his home. She concludes she should look for someone single, and, like Isaac, seems to want old fashioned “values like warmth and spiritual contact.” But, just like Isaac and Yale, she gives into her selfishness by agreeing to go to a hotel with Yale. 

 

Isaac goes to pick up his son and hostility is apparent when he encounters Jill and her girlfriend, Connie (Karen Kudwig). When the latter says that his son is a talented drawer, like herself, he implies that since she can’t be the father, the ability is not inherited. Alone, he tells Jill how he can’t understand why she would prefer Connie over him. But, he is in denial because she notes that he knew she had a “history,” most likely of gay feelings that he would not accept. He comically says his analyst warned him about Jill, but she was too beautiful so he got another analyst. He still is very upset about the book, and their differing interpretations of events continues. She says she hopes that they can just be friends, but how can that be a realistic desire given that she wants to reveal all of their problems to the scrutiny of others. Here we have more ways that relationships can be minefields.

 

Isaac wants to inject traditional masculine attributes into his son’s upbringing, which he sees as being in jeopardy in Jill’s household. But, it may be that he is needlessly projecting his own feelings of inadequacy onto the situation. He takes his boy, Willie (Damion Scheller), out to play basketball. They then go to dinner and Isaac jokes about how there are beautiful women in the restaurant and if Willie applies himself they could pick up a couple of them. Given the young age of the boy, it is a funny scene, but it also shows how absurdly worried Isaac is about how the lesbian couple’s influence affects his son. 

 

After not being able to get Yale to go for a Sunday walk because of his family commitments, the lonely Mary calls Isaac to take a stroll. They get caught in a storm and seek shelter at a planetarium with a reproduction of a moonscape that they explore. The black and white photography is put to evocative use here as the two walk in and out of shadows. The moon is invoked often in love poetry and song lyrics, so the setting is appropriate. But, the moon is also associated with madness (as in the word “lunacy”), suggesting that falling in love is an irrational, sometimes crazy occurrence. Lovers may also feel as if they are trying to transverse alien terrain because of how difficult it is to find the path to intimacy. Mary loosens up with Isaac, laughing about his drenched appearance. It’s as if the rain washed away her standoffish intellectualism. She admits that her ex-husband, Jeremiah, cheated on her, another example of a failed relationship. She confesses to feeling inadequate mentally and physically with her ex, which helps us understand her posturing as a defense mechanism. She talks about how Jeremiah opened her up sexually, and notes, “Women found him devastating.” We later see him, and her comments about Jeremiah set us up to encounter a specific male type. As she automatically tries to recite Saturn’s moons, Isaac gently dismisses her overachieving intellectual attempt by telling her the topic will not come up in normal conversation. He also says, “The brain is the most overrated organ,” as he pushes the emphasis on the importance of the physical aspect of humans, which includes intimacy. Even though he is attracted to Mary, he makes excuses when she wants to meet up again. He is trying to live by a code that means he should not get involved with a woman his friend is seeing. 

 

Tracy informs Isaac that she has been accepted into a performing arts program in London, but she wants him to go to England with her. He jokes his way out of the suggestion, not wanting to confront her concerns about a separation. She complains he doesn’t take her seriously because of her age, and she is correct. He urges her to attend, which will relieve him of the burden of eventually breaking up with her. She gets him to go on a horse and buggy ride around Manhattan, and he marvels about how she wants to do this “corny” thing. She is surprisingly more old-fashioned than he is when it comes to romance, and therefore, she seems like the more mature soul. He does care for her very much, and says that in the Bible, Job would have been okay with God’s torments if he saw that he could make someone as wonderful as Tracy.

 

This sweet scene contrasts with a contentious discussion between Yale and Mary where she argues more with herself about getting involved with a married man. She declares that she deserves better, but when Yale suggests again taking action to leave Emily, she still does not want to be blamed for breaking up a marriage. She, like Isaac, is looking for a way out despite having voluntarily put herself in a no-win situation. Later, Yale finally breaks it off with her, saying he has to think about Emily and he’s not sure if he and Mary would make it in the long run. She knows it’s for the best, but she became emotionally invested, and it still hurts. She tries to shore up her confidence for the future by saying she has a great deal going for her because she is smart and pretty, but her true insecurity breaks through as she says, “I’m all fucked up. I’m just shit!” Mary seeks solace by reaching out to Isaac, who listens to her complaint about Yale leading her on. Isaac tries to defend Yale, but he is really defending himself because he is doing the same with Tracy. 

 

The romanticism of the carriage ride gives way to Isaac using complaints about the noises and brown water in his new, more economical apartment to avoid speaking honestly to Tracy about what is going to happen to them. She wants to divert him by being sexually adventurous, and he is torn because he desires her but also is shocked by the sensuality in someone so young. He again sets up his exit strategy by saying that after she goes to London she’ll think of him, “as a fond memory.” But, he does not consider how much he is hurting her by continuing to be a couple and satisfying his desires. The thing is, Isaac and Tracy are very compatible despite the difference in their ages. They eat Chinese food in bed while watching a movie, like a comfortable married couple. They critique characters on a show who wear a wig and had facelifts, and agree that older faces are interesting. She is thrilled that there will be a W. C. Fields film to see, which shows her as being well-rounded beyond her years.

 

Yale tells Isaac that he feels good about himself now that he broke it off with Mary since he is not one for having affairs, all evidence to the contrary. He easily promotes the idea that Isaac should now date Mary, showing his waffling emotions. Isaac, getting his friend’s blessing, dates Mary, who does warn him that she is messed up psychologically, so she is “trouble.” He laughs it off by saying that his middle name is “trouble,” but then humorously says it really is “Mortimer,” not wanting to see any red flags as they begin to get physical. 




 

Isaac is outside Tracy’s school, almost uncomfortably looking like a parent waiting for his child. She bought him a harmonica because he talked about wanting to learn how to play it. She says, “I’m trying to open up that side of you.” She wants to expand Isaac’s possibilities. Out of the main characters, she is the most generous, the most grown up. But he is now seeing Mary, and says she is wasting her affection on him. He says that they should stop being a couple. She says she loves him, but he sums up the confusing world of romance by saying when it comes to love, “nobody out there knows what the hell is going on.” Her response is, “We have laughs together. I care about you. Your concerns are my concerns. We have great sex.” The film suggests that she understands more than the older Isaac does about what constitutes love. When she asks him if he loves her, he says he loves someone else who he has been seeing. Her understated, “Gee, now I don’t feel so good,” is heartbreaking as she realizes, despite his continued warning about the temporary nature of their “fling,” that Isaac has actually been cheating on her. She rightly confronts his hypocrisy by telling him that he acts like their ending things is to her advantage when he’s the one who wants to terminate their relationship. He is condescending when he says he encouraged her to go out with guys named “Biff” and “Scooter,” underestimating her maturity. Tracy’s sadness is palpable as she cries and asks him to leave her alone, since Isaac’s attempt at consoling her after he has hurt her just adds to her pain.

 

Isaac and Mary see more of each other as they take rides to the country and wander around New York City. A funny shot shows the two of them in a rowboat in the lake in Central Park. Isaac puts his hand in the water and when he pulls it out it is covered in thick, dark slime. Even though it is humorous, it is consistent with the opening lines of the film and the theme of Isaac’s book about how the city he loves is beginning to decay. 

 

Emily tells Isaac she doesn’t understand why he hasn't brought the girl he is dating around to see her and Yale. Mary says she’s fine with getting together, and Yale gives his okay. But, the meeting is unavoidably awkward as Yale and Mary pretend that they haven’t met before, and Mary now meets Yale’s wife. When they go to a classical music concert, Mary sits next to Yale and the two of them fidget as Isaac appears jealous as he keeps leaning forward to ensure the former couple are not touching.


While shopping, Mary’s ex, Jeremiah (Wallace Shawn), approaches her and Isaac. All of us who love movies and TV know the talented Shawn, and he is a short, balding man. His character also lost a great deal of weight according to Mary which adds to the depiction of a person who would not be considered by many as very attractive. Isaac is astounded because by the way Mary described him as this sexually empowered male who dominated women, Isaac thought the man would be the traditional tall, dark and handsome fellow. It is a funny twist on stereotypical expectations, and it also shows how there is a great deal of value placed on appearance alone, as it points to Isaac’s, and probably the audience’s, limited perception of a person’s worth.

 

As they do their respective writing in different rooms, Isaac chastises Mary for working on a novelization of a movie, another form of lowered standards that he sees devaluing society. As they work, Yale calls Mary, saying he misses her, but she resists agreeing to see him. Yale buys a car because he says he had to have it, sounding like a little boy who wants a new toy. He seems to act the same way when it comes to women. The two couples go for a ride in the vehicle. There are several shots of the characters riding in cars in the film, possibly implying metaphorically that they are always going somewhere, but not really arriving at a satisfying destination. 

 

On their day trip they pass a bookshop and Jill’s book is in the window. They buy a copy and as Mary reads from it, Isaac exhibits painful humiliation as Jill describes how much better the sexual experience was with a woman than with her husband. She also uses unflattering words to describe Isaac, including calling him chauvinistic, paranoid, and despairing. Although an invasion of privacy, her assessment of Isaac is not without merit. He confronts Jill, who keeps saying she wrote honestly, but she did profit off of his name by exploiting what transpired in a personal relationship. She bangs in the last nail in the coffin when she says that she has received interest in making the book into a movie.

 

To add to Isaac’s misery, Mary tells him that she thinks she is still in love with Yale. She says that Yale wants to leave Emily so that he and Mary can live together. Her admission comes under the category of what goes around comes around for Isaac. She is dumping Isaac after he dumped Tracy for Mary. He is stunned, but he is able to analyze Mary’s situation with Yale. He notes Yale has been married for twelve years and will return to his wife, and Mary is a runner who when she feels “secure” will not believe that impression and will leave Yale. He says he gives the reunion four weeks. Mary says she “can’t plan that far in advance.” It is a funny statement but stresses the fragility of modern love. 

 


Isaac confronts Yale where he teaches. They go into a biology classroom where there are skeletons of a gorilla and humans. Isaac yells at Yale and wonders why his friend introduced Mary to him in the first place. He says now they both like her, but Yale says, “I liked her first.” Isaac points out the immaturity of the statement, and thus the persistent childish level of the grown male, when he says, “What are you, six years old?” Isaac is sarcastic about Yale’s lack of an emotional anchor when he says, “You can still change your mind one more time before dinner.” He continues to indict Yale, telling him he is “too easy” on himself when he says he’s not “a saint” for seeing Mary behind Isaac’s back. Isaac says Yale rationalizes away his flaws and is thus not honest with himself. But, Isaac is also angry at himself for some of the same behavior he showed toward Tracy. He emphasizes Yale’s adolescent behavior by his preferring to buy a sports car instead of putting in the work to write his much-delayed book. Isaac sees this lack of ethical behavior may start small but leads to being, “in front of a Senate committee naming names,” a reference to the Communist witch hunts during the McCarthy era. As to Yale’s accusation that Isaac is being God-like in his self-righteousness, Isaac says, “I gotta model myself after someone,” which means people should live up to the high standards of morality they set for themselves. He worries about “what future generations” will say about their elder’s lives if they act irresponsibly. Isaac points to the skeleton he is next to and says that is what is going to happen to all of them, and the only legacy left behind is “personal integrity.” So, it’s important to him that when he is dead, “I’m well thought of.” 

 

To possibly put into practice what he preaches, Isaac begins to apply himself to writing his book and spending quality time with his son. He meets with Emily and she says she knew about some affairs Yale had in the past but thought there had to be compromises in a marriage. But, Isaac’s sense of morality causes him to say he can’t compromise. He admits that in hindsight he really blew it by leaving Tracy as he felt the best when with her. She even left a message for him once that the film Grand Illusion was going to be shown on TV, which shows how she still cared to let him know about one of his favorite movies. 


He is dictating ideas for a story about people in Manhattan who create “unnecessary, neurotic problems,” so they don’t have to confront “more unsolvable, terrifying problems,” concerning “the universe.” These notes point to how humans are limited creatures who find it frustratingly impossible to deal with their inability to understand the total nature of existence. But, he wants to include some optimism, so he asks, given our finite abilities, what makes life worth living. He makes a list, which includes, Groucho Marx, Willie Mays (who his son is named after), a Louis Armstrong recording, Marlon Brando, Frank Sinatra, Swedish movies, works by Cezanne and Flaubert, and “Tracy’s face.” With that last item, he stops and picks up the harmonica she gave him, which symbolizes her putting him first in the relationship. 



 As at the ending of most romantic comedies, one person runs to reconnect with the other. Isaac does so here, trying to rectify his mistake for leaving Tracy. He finds her loading her luggage onto a limo, ready to leave for London. She combs her hair and she almost looks like a young Ingrid Bergman waiting for that plane to take her away from Casablanca. He admits to being wrong for leaving her, but all the arrangements have been made and her parents are looking for a place for her to live in England. He now admits to being in love with her. She says if they truly love each other, her being away for six months will not change anything. He is afraid that much time will change her, having those experiences and meeting people that he once encouraged. She assures him that, “Not everybody gets corrupted.” She adds that he has to have a little “faith in people.” Allen shows he can act as his face reflects uncertainty by looking away, and then offers a sliver of optimism with a slight smile. 

 

The film seems to ask if idealistic love can survive in a morally compromised world that doesn’t comprehend what constitutes true affection for another.


The next film is Gimme Shelter.

Sunday, June 11, 2017

Annie Hall

SPOILER ALERT! The plot of the movie will be discussed.


Woody Allen’s 1977 film, which won the Oscar, (beating out Star Wars), is a portrait of the artist as an alienated man. Allen exhibits this outsider predicament through the story line, but also with various cinematic techniques. In real life, Allen, and in the movie, his surrogate character, Alvy Singer, are powerless to satisfactorily interface with the world around them. So, they use art in an attempt to control their lives, and try to make a connection to others.
Right from the beginning, Alvy breaks the “fourth wall,” escaping the confines of the plot, and speaks directly to the audience in an attempt to explain his take on existence. He notes a joke about two women at a place in the Catskills saying how the food was lousy, with one of them further commenting that the portions were small. Alvy says that is how he views life – “full of loneliness and misery, and suffering, and unhappiness. And it’s all over much too quickly.” So, despite his emphasis on the negative, he admits that he doesn’t want to give it up, that there is still something worth living for. That turns out to be, mostly, romantic relationships. But, at the same time he confesses that he doesn’t have the qualities needed to connect with others, and his feelings of inadequacy cause him to quote Groucho Marx, or whoever made up the line, which says, “I would never want to belong to any club that would have someone like me as a member.”
The movie skips around in time, reflecting Alvy’s stream-of-consciousness. He says that he has a hyperactive imagination, so his mind jumps around a lot. This is the character’s psychological explanation for the non-linear story line. But, the non-sequential telling of events also stresses that what we are seeing is a work of art, with the artist having the god-like control over his invention that a person cannot exert over his or her life. At the conclusion of his opening speech, which is set at the end of the story about to be told, Alvy notes that he has broken up with Annie (Diane Keaton, in an Oscar-winning performance). Even though this tale is humorous, we know from the beginning that this story, despite the artist’s power to manipulate events, does not end with the principle players living happily ever after, because Allen does not want to present a film with a rosy mindset.
 Alvy says he is not a depressed individual, but this assertion is undercut by his youthful fixation on the death of the universe, since it continues to expand, and eventually will “break apart.” He has stopped doing his homework, and his mother brings the boy to the family doctor, who offers a normal way of dealing with impending doom, which is “to enjoy ourselves while we’re here.” The doctor’s name is “Flicker,” which undercuts his advice by emphasizing the lack of persistent stability in the universe. (Could the name also conjure up the term for a movie, a “flick,” implying that a film only can deliver momentary enlightenment or happiness?)

This feeling of a lack of security in a turbulent world is symbolized by Alvy growing up in a house built under a Coney Island roller-coaster, the vibrations of which cause his home to shake. Add to the housing situation, we have the additional image of his father running the bumper car ride. Thus, instead of going with the flow of human traffic, Alvy continually collides with the outside world.
Alvy’s outsider personality makes him always at odds with others. As a youth, he saw his fellow students and teachers as inferior. He says that the teachers didn’t fall into the category of those who can’t do, teach, because they “couldn’t do anything.” By placing Alvy as an adult conversing with school age children, Allen depicts the distance Alvy felt between himself and his classmates. For instance, Alvy had sexual impulses toward the girls long before puberty. But, Allen’s technique also shows how we remember the friends we have lost touch with, frozen in memory snapshots of the past, as we wonder what has become of them.
 Alvy has conflicting forces working on him. On the one hand, he wants to be accepted and admired by others, but on the other side, he can’t get over his feelings of inadequacy and self-doubt, which make it difficult to accept recognition of his talent, and make him discredit those who either express praise or seek a romantic relationship with him. When fans of his comedy stand-up routines approach him, he distances himself by pretending not to be himself, and then by degrading their attention, calling them mafia types (cast members from The Godfather) or lower-class workers. But, he also tries to dismiss those who appear higher in the intellectual social strata than himself. His second wife, Robin (Janet Margolin), associates with New York intelligentsia at a party, and instead of trying to connect with them, Alvy goes off to the bedroom, now identifying with the blue-collar mentality, by watching the New York Nicks play. When Robin enters the room, Alvy, out of sync with the occasion, wants to have sex with her, saying the mind can “lie” but the body always tells the “truth.” Here, he values non-thinking physical urges over what he considers pseudo-intellectualism. In short, he always makes himself the odd man out. (He may find himself at odds with either the educated or working-class groups in the city, but he also shuns the suburbs, with its unsettling insect sounds and moths caught behind window screens).
The famous scene which demonstrates not only the suspicion of others promoting their mental abilities, but also the contrast of art with real life is the one where Alvy and Annie wait in a movie theater line. Behind them is a man who negatively critiques the works of film directors Allen admires. The audience connects with Alvy having to endure a know-it-all loudmouth. The man then mentions the work of Marshall McLuhan in the field of communication theory. Alvy then steps out of the verisimilitude of the story and again addresses the audience along with the man in line. Alvy then mixes true reality into the film by bringing the real McLuhan into the movie frame, who then tells the man in line that he knows nothing of his work. Alvy then says to the camera “Boy, if life were only like this.” Alvy literally does not fit in within the “realistic” parameters of the story, so Allen, the artist, allows his stand-in, Alvy, to escape the “plot” of his life, which he finds hostile, and exist in an unscripted world which accommodates his point of view.

Because Alvy feels that society excludes him, he sees himself as a victim, Thus, he finds comfort in embracing anti-establishment conspiracy theories. Because his Jewish background provides historical proof of persecution, he suspects anti-Semitic references in the speech patterns of others; he hears “Jew,” when someone says, “D’you.” He fears that the rest of the country considers him and his fellow New Yorkers to be “left-wing, Communist, Jewish, homosexual pornographers.” He interrupts lovemaking with his first wife, Allison (Carol Kane), because he can’t get the conspiracy argument against the lone gunman theory concerning the assassination of John F. Kennedy out of his head. However, Allison, rightly says he is just using this preoccupation to avoid being intimate with her. His outsider mindset won’t allow him to believe that she would want him.
 Alvy is even alienated from his own profession. He can’t stand the guy who wants to hire him to write jokes for his pathetic act. So, he decides to deliver his comic material himself by doing stand-up (the way Allen did in real life). When he goes out to Los Angeles to meet his transplanted New York actor friend, Rob (Tony Roberts), he is appalled by his use of a laugh track on his TV show, which points to the diminishment of art when success is achieved too easily. Alvey says Rob should be doing plays in New York’s Central Park. Rob says he acted in the park, and was mugged, thus justifying his Hollywood lifestyle. (The fact that Alvy can’t even connect with a male friend is implied by the fact that Rob keeps calling Alvy “Max,” instead of his real name). When Annie says how clean it is in LA, Alvy comments, “That’s because they don’t throw their garbage away; they turn it into television shows.” He also rants against the narcissistic award-giving of Hollywood, saying that they would give a trophy for “Greatest Fascist Dictator: Adolph Hitler.” (Of course, Allen was not present at the Academy Awards ceremony to accept his writing and directing Oscars for this film). For Alvy, Hollywood presents a clash of conflicting architectural designs, and is a place of inauthenticity, where Christmas music plays amid rows of palm trees while one constantly drives, and never walks, anywhere. It is a place where restaurants offer unappetizing meals consisting of sprouts and “mashed yeast,” and the town literally renders him nauseous. Allen satirizes the city’s fleeting interest in a succession of fads by having Jeff Goldblum (in an early movie appearance), calling someone to ask for help because, “I forgot my mantra.” Alvy, never feeling comfortable anywhere, can’t handle the “mellow,” or, content ways of LA dwellers, which, for him, leads to a mentally vegetative state. He says, “if I get too mellow, I ripen, and then rot.”

So why does the loner Alvy, at least to a greater degree than with others, establish a bond with Annie? Because when they first meet, she looks more like an outsider than he does. She is awkward in her speech as she tries to show her interest in Alvy. Visually, she doesn’t conform, her male clothing colliding with her feminine identity. She drives badly (as we see later, so does Alvy). And, like him, she is uncomfortable when someone praises her. For example, when he compliments her on her singing, she looks like she wants to run away. Allen cinematically emphasizes their mutual inability to express themselves with another person by putting subtitles on the screen which show the hidden meanings behind their spoken words. Another noteworthy episode shows the two trying to cook lobsters. Here, they are awkward. but they are accepting of each other’s ineptness, and can laugh and enjoy their alienation together. They sit and have fun watching people walking past them, making up their backstories. (Observing one man, Alvy says he wins the Truman Capote look-alike contest. It is, in fact, Capote, as Allen again intermixes realistic storytelling with artistic manipulation). Alvy feels comfortable exposing Annie to his bleak, off-putting view on life, taking her to a bookstore, and buying her works dealing with death. He tells her that he sees life is divided, “between the horrible and the miserable.” The horrible consist of “terminal cases,” and “blind” and “crippled” people. And, “the miserable is everyone else.” So, he tells Annie, “you should be happy you’re miserable,” because that’s the luckiest one can be in the world according to Alvy.




But, Alvy’s inability to feel at home even with Annie surfaces. When she wants to move in with him, he resists, saying that her apartment allows them the independence that is missing in cohabitation. But, conversely, he wants to keep her on a leash for himself, not wanting to go to parties with her, which might cause Annie to connect with inhabitants of the rest of the world, who he would rather avoid. He says to her, “What do we need other people for?” He may feel closer to her than anyone else, but he keeps trying to change her, urging her to take adult education courses. He sees this advice as helping Annie grow intellectually, but she feels that Alvy is judging her for not being smart enough for him. When she does take courses to improve herself, he acts hostile as she becomes more assertive and independent. He now reverts to his anti-intellectual stance, calling the courses “mental masturbation.” Annie responds by saying masturbation is a subject Alvy excels at. Alvy then delivers the line, “Hey, don’t knock masturbation. It’s sex with someone I love.” Very funny, yes, but also revealing. It stresses his separateness, his inability to share true emotional intimacy with another. He never really says that he loves Annie. He seems to only get satisfaction from himself. Even in Alvy’s animated fantasy, he can’t achieve bliss with another, as Annie becomes the wicked Queen, and they have the same arguments they have in his real life.

Allen visually reveals their estrangement by having Annie project an out-of-body ghostly version of herself as she and Alvy start to make love. It illustrates how emotionally detached from him she has become. When the two are in respective therapy sessions, Allen uses the split screen technique to show the opposing takes on their sexual activity: she sees three times a week as having sex “constantly,” while he sees it as occurring “hardly ever.” She tells Alvy that she discussed a dream she had with her therapist which involved Frank Sinatra smothering her. Her therapist said that she subconsciously substituted Sinatra for Alvy, whose last name is Singer. Thus, the implication is that Alvy is trying to stop Annie from evolving.
 After a previous noisy, distracting singing engagement, Annie performs to an attentive audience. After her set, a music producer, Tony Lacey (Paul Simon) approaches her and offers her a chance to record in California. Of course, Alvy is against it, but they do go to LA. She enjoys Lacey’s company and his entourage. She and Alvy decide that they have grown too far apart, and separate when they return to New York. Alvy delivers one of my favorite lines from the film. He says that a relationship is like a shark: it has to keep moving to exist, and “what we got on our hands, is a dead shark.” When they divide up their things, Annie gives Allen his political buttons, which are against every president, except Kennedy, in his lifetime. Humorous, but also a telling reminder of how long Alvy has felt estranged from mainstream American life.
He finds out that she is living with Lacey (Allen said he wanted Alvy to lose the girl to someone shorter than himself to emphasize Alvy’s lack of self-esteem. This is a man who already said he was one of the few men who suffers from “penis envy”). He goes out of his comfort zone, and flies to LA. He even drives to meet Annie at a restaurant, and his lack of automobile skills is evident in his halting maneuvers. When they meet, he now asks her to marry him, hoping to get her back. Annie sums him up pretty well when she says, “You’re incapable of enjoying life. You know that? I mean you’re like New York City … You’re like this island unto yourself.” (One of the possible titles for the film was “Anhedonia,” which is the inability to get pleasure.) Alvy seemed to consider New York as the black sheep in the American family, so it is fitting that he identifies with it so much. As he attempts to drive away, he keeps whacking into things. We get images of his father’s bumper car ride. So, from the beginning of Alvy’s life to now, he keeps slamming up against the world around him.
Alvy writes a play based on his relationship with Annie, but he has her coming back to him at the end. Alvy tells the audience, it was his first play, and one wants things to come out perfect in art. But, Allen, who has shown us how as a filmmaker he can bend his art to his wishes, is experienced enough to know that this story would seem inauthentic if it had the typical movie happy ending. He does say that he met Annie again later on. She had moved back to New York, and dragged her new boyfriend to a viewing of the Sorrow and the Pity, the anti-Nazi documentary, a fact that makes Alvy feel he had a positive influence on Annie. They have a good reunion, as we view shots of their past experiences together, with Annie singing “Seems Like Old Times.”

The movie ends as it began, with Alvy addressing the audience. After his meeting with Annie, he tells a joke about a man whose brother is crazy because he thinks he’s a chicken. He doesn’t commit him because, he says, he needs the eggs. That is how Alvy now thinks of relationships, because, “they’re totally irrational, and crazy, and absurd … but, uh, I guess we keep goin’ through it because, uh, most of us, … need the eggs.” So, even though he is a confirmed outsider with self-esteem problems, and sabotages all his social involvements, he feels compelled to keep trying to connect with others, for those few “good times.”

The next film is The Talented Mr. Ripley.