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.

Favorite Movie Lines, Part II

SPOILER ALERT! The plots will be discussed.

Here are more not too well known movie lines that I like, and why I think they are noteworthy.

The American President:

Primarily a romantic comedy, this film, written by the man of many interesting words, Aaron Sorkin (A Few Good Men, The West Wing), also deals with the world of politics. Michael Douglas’ President Andrew Shephard (Does he have to ‘shepherd’ his country through the mire of negative politics?), who is a widower, must deal with the opposing party accusing him of undermining family values by becoming involved with a lobbyist, Sydney Ellen Wade (Annette Bening). She is depicted as a radical, who many years ago was at a flag burning, and is now pushing for environmental legislation reform. Shephard’s critics condemn him for having Wade sleep over at The White House, and thus exposing the president's young daughter to immorality.  Shepard’s speech at the end of the film addresses the divisive tactics of his political adversaries: “America isn’t easy. America is advanced citizenship. You gotta want it bad, ‘cause it’s gonna put up a fight … The symbol of your country can’t just be a flag: the symbol also has to be one of its citizens exercising his right to burn that flag in protest.” He goes on to point out that instead of trying to solve a problem, some are only interested in gaining power, so they divert the population by “making you afraid of it, and telling you who’s to blame. That, ladies and gentlemen, is how you win elections.”

Given the current adversarial political environment in America, where people denigrate others, blaming all of the nation’s ills on groups of people, instead of reaching out to come up with workable solutions, Sorkin’s words are still quite relevant.

French Kiss:

Here we have a lighter romantic comedy. Canadian Kate (Meg Ryan) is in France to try to win back her fiance. She encounters Luc (Kevin Kline, who adopts a very good French accent) who is outwardly a crook, but turns out to be the romantic good guy, who just wants enough money to own his own vineyard. Of course, by the end of the film the two become a couple.

Before that happens, Luc hides a stolen necklace in Kate’s bag, and sticks with her, saying he will help her with her boyfriend problem. Kate tries to convince Luc that it is important to display one’s feelings. She tells him, “A healthy person is someone who expresses what they are feeling inside. Express, not repress.” Luc feels that Kate shares too much of what she feels, and his sarcastic observation of her advice that sounds like it was uttered by some TV shrink is “In that case, you must be one of the healthiest people in the world.” Obviously these two are initially separated by more than where they come from geographically. Luc has a more pessimistic view of what to expect out of life, which can be seen when he says, “When people tell me they are happy, my ass begins to twitch.” Kate makes fun of Luc’s attitude by predicting what will become of him. She makes her face appear sad and droopy, pretends to hold a cigarette, and says in a raspy voice, “You’ll become one of those hunchbacked lonely old men, sitting in the corner of a crowded cafe, mumbling to yourself, ‘My ass is twitching. You people make my ass twitch.’”

By exposing each other’s foibles, and their good qualities, the two draw closer, realizing their happiness resides in neither Canada nor France, but in the love they share for each other.

Forget Paris:

It looks like we have a trend here centering on romantic comedies and France. This relatively unknown film is one of my favorites. Billy Crystal was one of the writers, and he also directed and starred in this movie. There are lots of lines to choose from here, and I just picked out a few. Mickey Gordon (Crystal) is a professional basketball referee. His father, who abandoned his family, dies, but wants to be buried with his war buddies in France. Mickey takes the body there, but the airline loses it. That’s where Ellen (Debra Winger) comes in, because she works for the airline. The body has been quarantined for health reasons, which astonishes Mickey: “He’s dead. He’s been de-healthed!” Ellen is very sympathetic, they get to know each other, fall in love, marry, and then separate. Their backstory is related at a dinner party. One recollection is that of Mickey saying to Ellen, “I’ll never forget my father’s last words to me: ‘Get out of my way.’ You can’t buy memories like that.”

At the dinner, Andy (Joe Mantegna) gets into a fight with his fiance, and Craig (Richard Masur) tries to console him by saying, “Here have some bread. Everything will look better after bread.” I like this line, because I know that food among my fellow Italian Americans is considered a non-pharmaceutical antidepressant. So, I can definitely relate to the sentiment expressed here.

While hanging out with his fellow referees, one guy reads from a tabloid which says that they dug up Abraham Lincoln, gave him a shot of some kind of reviving agent, and brought him back to life. Mickey says, “What were his first words? How did the play end?” It’s just a witty remark about the absurdity of these so-called “newspapers.”

The couple reunite and show up at the dinner. What a funny, and feel-good, movie.

Sleepless in Seattle:

Yeah, I know, another romantic comedy. But, the late, great Nora Ephron wrote this movie, so you can see why I would choose it. Widower architect Sam Baldwin (Tom Hanks) is hoping to spend some romantic time with a woman he met while working. However, his son, Jonah (Ross Malinger), does not like the lady, and wants his dad to pursue the person who sent a nice letter to him after Jonah talked of Sam’s loneliness on a call-in radio show. However, Sam does not know this lady (Meg Ryan, who shows up in a lot of these types of films), and warns Jonah how dangerous a strange woman can be by pointing out the movie, Fatal Attraction. After Jonah reminds his father that he wouldn’t let his son watch it, Sam says, “Well I saw it and it scared the shit out of me. It scared the shit out of every man in America!”  I just think Sam’s line is funny, fierce, and sums up the the deep impact that cautionary film about marital infidelity made on men. Do you know where your pet rabbits are?

Cat Ballou:

Lee Marvin plays an alcoholic cowboy named Kid Sheleen who was once a notorious outlaw in this Old West comedy. He is hired by the the title character, played by Jane Fonda, to get revenge for her father’s death. Sheleen gets sober enough to help save the day, but reverts to his drunken ways by the end of the film. One of Cat’s friends, Jackson Two-Bears (Tom Nardini) sees Sheleen on his cross-legged horse, both of who appear intoxicated, leaning against a building. Jackson comments about Sheleen’s eyes, and the outlaw asks what’s wrong with them. Jackson says, “Well they’re red, bloodshot.” Sheleen’s slurred response is, “You ought to see ‘em from my side.” A very funny sort of reversal joke that I didn’t see coming. When Marvin accepted the Oscar for Best Actor, he said that part of the award belonged to the horse.

Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid:

While on the topic of Western comedies, here is one of my favorites. It also addresses the theme of how progress can destroy those who no longer fit the current age. Butch (Paul Newman) and Sundance (Robert Redford) try to rob a train for the second time, but it is now equipped with a modern safe. Butch, ignorant of how to deal with this new security invention, asks for more explosives. The result is that the whole railway car gets blown up. As pieces fly everywhere, Sundance uses understatement to comical effect when he says, “Think ya’ used enough dynamite there, Butch?” Not only funny, but also sums up how the duo are out of touch with the new world which eventually pushes them out of the West to South America, where they meet their demise. I know the plot doesn’t sound funny, but if you have seen this movie you know there are plenty of humorous lines exchanged between Newman and Redford.

Unforgiven:

Well there’s not much that is funny in this revisionist Western from Clint Eastwood, which earned him Best Director and Best Picture Oscars. The notorious Will Munny (Eastwood) comes out of retirement after the death of his spouse, who reformed him, supposedly as a hired gun to get revenge for some prostitutes who had one of their co-workers disfigured by a client. However, the money for Munny becomes secondary, as the story shows a variety of violent men incapable of freeing themselves from their pasts. Except, there is a new young man who wants to become an outlaw, The Schofield Kid (Jaimz Woolvet), who has to face the horror of killing someone. Will tells him, “It’s a hell of a thing, killing a man. Take away all he’s got and all he’s ever gonna have.” The words are plain, but they are powerful in summing up how death ends not only what someone is but it also denies all of a person’s possibilities for the future. The Kid tries to rationalize their lethal actions by using the cliche, “Yeah, well I guess they had it coming.” Will won’t let The Kid off the hook, as he says, “We all got it coming, kid.”

Fargo:

My favorite Coen Brothers film, that somehow manages to perfectly blend humor and violence in this tale of crime in one of the coldest parts of the country. Even though the weather conditions are harsh, and the bad guys commit gruesome acts of violence, the story holds out hope in the relationship between the characters of Marge (Frances McDormand, in her first Oscar-winning role), and her husband, Norm (John Carroll Lynch). She is the pregnant police chief, called early in the morning, to get on the case involving some murders on the road. Norm rises, too, to make sure his wife has her breakfast. The two say how they love each other, and then she walks out of the door to her police car. But, she comes back in the house and says, “Hon?” Norm answers with the oft repeated regional response, “Yah?”  Then she says, “Prowler needs a jump.” Her words deliver the right sound and economy that fits Marge’s world. But, beyond that, the exchange shows how these two, despite the frigid temperatures, and the crimes committed in cold blood (brought about in contrast by a family devoid of affection), are there for each other, ready to bring a new child into their heart-warming world.

Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?

Since we’re talking about the Coens, here’s another winner. George Clooney is great in this film about three guys who escape from a chain gang and embark on a variety of adventures, suggested by The Odyssey and The Wizard of Oz. Clooney’s character, Ulysses Everett McGill, has the gift of gab, and thinks he can talk his way out of any situation, but he can’t. The convicts’ car breaks down, and he needs a part that the local vendor says will take two weeks to arrive. He then also has no use for the hair gel that the store stocks, and wants his usual brand, Dapper Dan. The vendor says he can order it, but it will take two weeks. Everett, which is what he is called, says, “Well, ain’t this place a geographical oddity. Two weeks from everywhere!” The line exemplifies Everett’s way with words, and also shows that no matter how he tries, he usually winds up eventually saying, “Damn! We’re in a tight spot!”

Aliens:

Even in this sci-fi horror classic from James Cameron there is a pretty funny line. The Marines have entered the area of the complex where the amazingly lethal aliens have cocooned the human occupants. Ripley (Sigourney Weaver) has realized that the soldiers can’t fire any weapons because they might rupture the nuclear reactor beneath them. When the Marines are told they can’t use their weapons and they must hand in their loaded magazines, Private Frost (Ricco Ross) says, “What the hell are we supposed to use, man, harsh language?” It’s just a great example of gallows humor, since the only way to deal with a hopeless situation is to laugh about it.

Blade Runner:

Speaking of classic sci-fi movies, here’s another one, which, again, is primarily serious, yet still maintains a bit of humor. Here we have a future that has become dehumanized, in the sense that the real people show less empathy and elicit less sympathy from the audience then do the synthetic humans, known as Replicants. The rich and the genetically superior have escaped earth to live “off-world,” where Replicants are used as slaves, and this world has become a sort of futuristic ghetto. One character, Sebastian (William Sanderson), a genetic engineer, suffers from a condition which disqualified him from leaving the planet. His aging process is accelerated, a situation that he shares with the Replicants, who have a four year life span. Sebastian helped to make these androids, but he has also tainted them with the human limitation of a limited lifetime. In this dehumanized world, Sebastian, says, “I make friends.” This statement is a funny play on words, because he literally creates robotic toys to keep him company. They march around his apartment in an abandoned building, symbolic of the emptiness in his small world and the one at large.

The Dark Knight:

This movie is “dark” for a number of reasons, especially in the use of the character of the Joker, played by Heath Ledger (for which he won, sadly, a posthumous Best Supporting Actor Oscar). This nihilistic clown dispenses only sick comic touches as he murders and blows up stuff on his ride down anarchy road in Gotham City. In one scene he explains how he, supposedly, received the upturned scars on his face that produced his deformed smile. He says his father, who “was a drinker and a fiend,” came at him with a knife and said, “‘Why so serious?’” He sticks the blade in my mouth. ‘Let’s put a smile on that face.’” The “s” sounds come out like the hissing of a snake, adding to the almost Satan-like quality of this villain. The inversion of comedy into horror is done by subverting the idea of showing happiness with a grin through mutilation. It is very effective writing, and acting.

The Ruling Class:

This is a film most people have never heard of, which is a shame, because it is a devastating satire on the British class system. Jack (Peter O’Toole, in a no-holds-barred performance) is a member of the aristocracy who is crazy, thinking he is Jesus Christ. He even has a huge crucifix in his mansion, where he literally hangs out on occasion. When asked how does he know he is God, he answers, “Simple. When I pray to Him, I find I am talking to myself.” An irreverent, but funny line. The irony of the story is that in his benign Christ-like delusion he is rejected by his peers, but is later welcomed when he becomes a sinister character.

Manhattan:

Although quite intelligent, and a filmmaker who makes references in his films to great artists, Woody Allen, nevertheless, likes to poke fun at the his fellow New Yorkers for allowing their intellectual abilities to be undermined by over-thinking everything. In this movie, while at a party, Allen’s character of Isaac listens to a woman who says, “I finally had an orgasm, and my doctor said it was the wrong kind.”  Isaac’s rebuttal is, “You had the wrong kind? I’ve never had the wrong kind, ever. My worst one was right on the money.”

Isaac also mentions that there is going to be a rally by Nazis, and that they should do something about it. One party guest says there is a satirical piece about it in the New York Times that is “devastating.” Isaac questions how effective intellectual tools are in this situation when he says, “Well a satirical piece in the Times is one thing, but bricks and baseball bats really get right to the point.” Yes, violence begets violence, but one could understand his outrage at how detached the purely cerebral stance can be.

Grosse Pointe Blank:

In this dark comedy about a professional killer who is losing his taste for his profession, we have John Cusack’s Martin returning to his home town after ten years for a high school reunion, hoping to reconnect with the person he once was, and also his girlfriend, Debi (Minnie Driver), who he split on. He has a difficult time accomplishing his goal. He has a humorous exchange about his cat with Debi, after he refers to the animal as “it.” She says, “It. You don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl?” Martin’s response is, “I respect its privacy.” Funny, but also revealing, showing how Martin hasn’t been able to even have a close relationship with his pet.

He also feels frustrated that he can’t even see his old house, because it has been torn down, and a convenience store is now on the property. Martin, putting a twist on a famous phrase, says, “You can never go home again … but I guess you can shop there.”

At the end of the film, after some mayhem which involves the hilarious Dan Aykroyd, playing a hitman who wants to unionize assassins, Martin gets to drive off with Deb, who says in a prerecorded message on her radio show, “Some people say forgive and forget. I say forget about forgiving and just accept. And, … get the hell out of town.”

And that’s what I’m going to do now. The next film to be analyzed is Lifeboat.