scoop and woody allen

When Woody Allen left the comfortable and familiar confines of Manhattan to film Match Point in 2005, many thought at first that the new setting and culture would present a mountain too high for Allen to climb. But he pulled it all off masterfully in that thriller, presenting a sophisticated spin on the deceptively simple but profound notion that some of life's most important victories, losses and ironies come as a matter of pure luck. Now he has returned to England, with rich Brits and aspiring Scarlett Johannson in tow, to try to present the story of an American journalism student getting a "scoop" on the man with whom she has fallen in love, a young rich Britisher played by Hugh Jackman.

This movie doesn't work nearly as well as Match Point and, in fact, seems to be a tired rehash of many of Allen's earlier one-liners and themes, though without the verve or sharpness of the young Allen. In the end, almost nothing "works" in this picture--the humor isn't consistently funny, the love story isn't convincing, Allen's presence is intrusive rather than helpful for the plot to develop, suspense only partially develops. For a moment I wondered if my deep appreciation even of Annie Hall (1977) was misplaced, since my enjoyment of it might have been because I was awash in my own youth and energy and love and the whole universe opening up to me. But as I have been thinking about it, I conclude again that Annie Hall was truly funny. Woody Allen's neurotic tendencies were portrayed with eloquent energy; his California-phobia/hatred was uproariously amusing; his scenes with Diane Keaton and her brother "Duane" or the "Jew-hating" Grammy Hall were priceless. Allen was alive at 40, neatly balancing his neuroticism, his love of angst-filled Germanic and Scandanavian works, his shrill voice, his zinging one-liners and his hopeful view of life despite the seeming despair all around him.

But here, in Scoop, something is profoundly absent. It is as if Allen has only caught on to half the "picture." He has realized that he is older (now 70) and thus cannot do some of the things he does earlier (like grope teenage and twenty-something actresses). He hasn't, however, realized that pungent one-liners don't easily flow off his tongue anymore. He doesn't take congnizance of the fact that his whining episodes, which sometimes were just SO funny in Annie Hall, are now the rants of a dissatsified and slightly daffy older man. Narcissism at 40 has a bit of charm to it; at 70, however, it is unattractive. There is too much in the world, which Allen should certainly know, to lose all your energy in focusing on yourself in your 60s and 70s. Why not "lose yourself," which is basically what he did in Match Point (where he didn't even make an appearance), and let that become the occasion for examining really interesting large themes of life? As one famous religious teacher has said: "he who loses himself, will find himself." But it takes real courage for a man who has spent his whole life curved in on himself to "lose" himself in the raucous symphony of life when he has become older. It is this dirctorial courage which Allen failed to show.

Conclusion

Almost everyone who watches his films wants to "put Woody on the couch," so to speak, of our own individual therapy workshops. I will not do that here, but will simply express my hope that he appear in no more of his movies, and that he move to the large themes that have stayed with him--of love and luck, of strange ways of justice--or explore new themes in his 8th decade. He may, however, just be beyond his prime, like Warren Spahn trying to pitch for the Mets in the early 1960s. There is no shame, however, at leaving your game when you still can play it fairly well.

2010