It had been fifteen years since I saw a Woody Allen movie, having been put off by his relationship with his adopted daughter and bored with his predictable, self-deprecating, neurotic characters. However, I saw a DVD called “Match Point” at the library, was attracted to the tennis theme, and thought I’d give him another chance. “Match Point”, despite its title, is not a movie about tennis; it’s a movie about luck and murder – Allen’s new obsessions, as I discovered when viewing four more of his recent movies. There are a few tennis scenes at the beginning, when Jonathan Rhys Meyers plays a retired tennis pro who gets a job teaching tennis at an affluent British club and meets a brother and sister of an aristocratic family. And while Scarlett Johansson displayed some credible tennis chops in the movie “Good Company” (with Dennis Quaid), she doesn’t get to swing a racquet in “Match Point.” Johansson plays the fiancé of the aristocratic brother and Meyers’ mistress. This movie reminded me a little of “The Talented Mr. Ripley” in that a seemingly innocuous, right-minded character becomes sinister and malevolent. Meyers plays this role well, and I found myself rooting for him against my better nature; which was likely Allen’s intention all along. Johansson’s character is unfortunately the stereotypical clingy, demanding “other woman” who becomes a threat to Meyers’ lifestyle and social standing. While some of the plot is predictable and disappointing, there are enough good scenes and surprises to make the film worth seeing.
In his next film, “Scoop”, Allen casts Johansson again, this time as a college journalist living in London who, by chance, is visited by the ghost of a recently departed, famous British reporter who gives her a “scoop” about the identity of a serial killer that is preying on bobbed brunette prostitutes. Of course, the suspect is another aristocrat (played with ineffable charm by the adorable Hugh Jackman), and we, along with Johansson, begin to doubt his guilt. This movie would have been much better had Allen stayed behind the camera instead of casting himself as the Jewish magician from Brooklyn who poses as Johansson’s father in order to assist her in the investigation. Numerous ridiculous scenes and tiresome dialogue intersperse with some wonderful shots of English gardens, beautiful houses, art and Hugh Jackman. But if you want to see Jackman and Johansson in a much better movie about magic, I highly recommend “The Prestige” instead.
Allen’s next movie is a complete departure from his usual lighthearted themes: in “Cassandra’s Dream” Ewan McGregor and Colin Farrell (who steals every scene he’s in) play brothers who are both desperate for some fast money; McGregor because he has fallen in love with an actress (Hayley Atwell) and has been posing as a rich, upcoming entrepreneur, and Farrell because of gambling debts. When the brothers’ uncle proposes paying them a large sum of money for a “hit” on a threatening ex-employee who is ready to testify about the uncle’s unsavory business activities, the brothers agree to the plan, assuming it will solve everyone’s problems. Allen does a good job with the plot twists and in revealing the contrast between the brothers’ motivations and reactions to guilt. But aside from a few light moments and banter, this is a dark and unnerving film.
On an unrelated but “six degrees of separation” note, Johansson and McGregor appear together in an interesting futuristic movie, “The Island”, that, while a tad too violent for my taste, is nevertheless compelling and visually brilliant. And, along those lines, McGregor and Jackman play friends turned enemies in another thriller, “The List”, which contains far too many coincidences to be credible but gives McGregor his meatiest role yet.
Allen returns to his tried and true genre, comedy-farce, in his next movie, “Vicky, Cristina, Barcelona”about two young women (Scarlett Johansson and Rebecca Hall, reunited from “The Prestige” mentioned above) who spend a summer discovering the cultural assets (and asses) in Barcelona. The leading man, Javier Bardem of creepy-killer Cohen movie “No Country for Old Men” fame, gets to show a completely different side of himself as the romantic, irresistibly charming Spanish painter who seduces both girls and maintains a love-hate relationship with his ex-wife, played by Penelope Cruz. The relationship between Bardem and Cruz seems like a satiric rip-off of Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo, but theirs is the most interesting and amusing dynamic. Unfortunately for Johansson, her character (Cristina) is the least developed and could have been much deeper and solid had Allen an iota of real insight regarding contemporary American girls.
In “Whatever Works”, Allen casts Larry David, a taller, more handsome, droller lead to play the cynical, elitist, self-loathing character that is a trademark of Allen films. I think he should use David from now on. He’s much easier to look at, he’s funnier than Allen, and he’s credible as an older love interest. By “luck” or “fate”, David encounters young Evan Rachel Wood (of “Running with Scissors” and “The Wrestler”), a Southern ingénue who has recently arrived in New York City to seek her fortune as an actress. “Whatever Works” has some wonderful lines, it’s a pretty funny script, and there are no murders. Allen uses Patricia Clarkson again (she played in “Vicky Cristina Barcelona”) in a similar role as a middle-aged woman who defies convention and morality to discover adventure and romance. The point of both movies is essentially “Life is short, love is ephemeral, enjoy it while you can.” Trite, perhaps, but true.
