Annie Hall (DVD)

...DIane Keaton as the titular Annie Hall, it's as pleasurable a way to spend 90 minutes as I can imagine.

Alvy Singer (Allen) is a gag writer, a Jewish gag writer, a neurotic Jewish gag writer. Failed relationships, a career stuttering in sitcom land, Alvy shuffles through life examining how it all wound up like this, and casting his bespectacled ears and eyes about for the next conspiratorial remark or gesture.

Hopelessly ...
...on firm action and winning Annie back.

The old paranoid neurotic boy meets dizzy neurotic girl story. 'Annie Hall' is every relationship you've ever had, but with every crossed word and embarrasing moment amplified by 10. The good times display a warmth and genuine appreciation for feelings that Allen so frequently misses the point of. The humour in the screenplay, co-written with Marshall Brickman, comes refreshingly from all angles. ... more

For me, Allen's cinematic legacy should be 'Annie Hall', 'Manhattan', 'Broadway Danny Rose', 'Purple Rose of Cairo' and 'Hannah and her Sisters', and after that it's all a bit of a lottery. 'Manhattan' is easily his most accomplished piece of film making, while 'Purple Rose' is a delightful piece of whimsy devoid of the later Allen bitterness and spite. 'Hannah' is drama and comedy pefectly combined, and 'Danny Rose' is like his standup routine stretched to feature length, anecdotary and unceasingly funny. Leaving us with 1977's 'Annie Hall'. His first film to venture away from slapstick, and focus entirely on the laughs to be found in his neurosis. 'Play it Again Sam' for the more discerning viewer.

Innovative in the comedy genre, Allen diluted his love for Bergman into great little touches, rather than plundering as he would on subsequent films, including split screens, addressing the camera directly and using out of body experiences.

The comedy is broad, and also reliably Allen, something for everyone. The screenplay bubbles along and even at his most bitter and resentful, Allen's lead character Alvy Singer is likeable and warm. Aided no end by sparkling support from DIane Keaton as the titular Annie Hall, it's as pleasurable a way to spend 90 minutes as I can imagine.

Alvy Singer (Allen) is a gag writer, a Jewish gag writer, a neurotic Jewish gag writer. Failed relationships, a career stuttering in sitcom land, Alvy shuffles through life examining how it all wound up like this, and casting his bespectacled ears and eyes about for the next conspiratorial remark or gesture.

Hopelessly paranoid, he is suddenly hopelessly in love. Introduced to Annie (Keaton) by best friend Rob (a great 'in your face' straight talking Tony Roberts), Alvy finds his awkwardness mirrored in the dizzy form of Annie. Embarking on a relationship, he suggests adult education to her, and a campaign of mind broadening. Only for her to broaden her mind to the extent that she sees the futility of their relationship.

Reflecting on yet another failure, Alvy looks back over his life, and decides on firm action and winning Annie back.

The old paranoid neurotic boy meets dizzy neurotic girl story. 'Annie Hall' is every relationship you've ever had, but with every crossed word and embarrasing moment amplified by 10. The good times display a warmth and genuine appreciation for feelings that Allen so frequently misses the point of. The humour in the screenplay, co-written with Marshall Brickman, comes refreshingly from all angles. There is clever dialogue, sight gags, physical comedy, and if you wanted a blueprint of how and why comedy should work, then 'Annie Hall' is surely it.

Filmed amid Allens beloved Manhattan, and his despised west coast, 'Annie Hall' does not have the visual sweep of 'Manhattan', but instead populates the city with characters, hustle and bustle, and all the noises and glances that chip away at Alvy's self confidence.

If 'Manhattan' is how the city is in Allen's head, then 'Annie Hall' is how it is in real life. The film does possess an uncanny ability to throw larger than life characters at us, hilarious situations and yet make them feel rooted in reality. It's always just a small stride away from something you've done and seen, and works on a very human level, and I no doubt love it for an entirely different host of reasons to the next man. Rarely in cinema today do we get films that address us on such a personal level. As a direct comparison, a bedfellow may be 'When Harry Met Sally' but, somehow, that all happens up on the screen and one really, when pushed, doesn't care about the smug Crystal and 'too pretty for words' Meg Ryan.

They are Hollywoods version of an odd couple. Allen gives us the truly fucked up. The real people. It extends beyond the lead characters, to his family, as stereotypical a Jewish family you couldn't imagine, but in them you spot their frailties, their pride, their warmth and wishes. Keaton's family by contrast are screwed up in wholly different way (Walken appears as Annie's brother in an hysterical cameo), and are every dull, sterile, lifeless bunch you've had to encounter at a family party or works outing.

Allen's musings arise from his Jewish background, but they are still our concerns and worries too, if we only we admitted it. We differ in that we don't need a psychiatrist to ease us through our life, but then again, does that make him or us the fool? Afterall, he's just voicing everything that keeps us awake at night.

Amongst the cast are familiar, and just becoming familiar faces. Jeff Goldblum, Christopher Walken, Siguorney Weaver and Shelley Duvall. Paul Simon contributes an awkward, but nonetheless amusing role as a seedy record producer, and keep your eyes peeled for Truman Capote, as a Truman Capote look-a-like.

Shot in a vibrant lifelike style by Allen regular Mel Bourne (Manhattan, The Fisher KIng, Reversal of Fortune) 'Annie Hall' is good on the eyes. The soundtrack largely features recognisable standards, and really, I can think of nothing to detract from the film. Reassuringly it scooped 4 Academy Awards, Best Director, Best Lead Actress, Best Picture and Best Screenplay. It's worldwide trophy haul was staggering, and at the box office it recouped it's budget by 10 times alone in the US.

Spurred on by critical and commercial reaction, Allen emersed himself in his ode to Bergman, 1978s 'Interiors', a project he did not emerge unscathed from. A resounding chorus of disapproval saw him under studio pressure for box office receipts, and for that we have to be grateful, because he gave us 'Manhattan'.  

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