Chad Taylor

School's been blown to pieces


What a great movie. Woody Allen's Irrational Man is small like a Russian short story. Instead of Chekhov's gun it has a pocket torch (although there is a gun, too); in place of the writer-director's often cringemaking sexual reveries the relationships are adult and on-point (although again a scene in which a writer working at home is interrupted by Parker Posey bearing a bottle of whisky is as agreeable a fantasy as one could conjur). Like the mis-en-scene of London finance in Match Point the hermetic world of a New England campus focuses the characters' dilemma. Joaquin Phoenix (paunchy, cold) plays a philosophy professor paralysed between theory and action, Posey (brittle, confident) a scientist with chemistry, and Emma Stone (wide-eyed, smart) a student who learns something. The script lacks the wizardry and magic that spoils every other Woody Allen. There are jokes but the actors ride over them, tamping down the smart-ass observations until they read as self-deprecating mumbling. Phoenix literally kills the humour and the movie soars by staying in the box. It's a solid little masterpiece that locks down its story with broad themes, sly editing and the eloquent style of voiceovers that made Vicky Cristina Barcelona such a good picture to look at.

The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie

I reviewed Midnight in Paris in 1985 when it came out as The Purple Rose of Cairo; before that it was, broadly, Play It Again Sam. Paris is Woody in his magical mode, better than its predecessors but not as flip as, say, Scoop, or as sexy as Match Point, and it's not the fizzy slam-dunk of Vicky Cristina Barcelona... but it's still a delight, and a relief. I wish more movies were made this way. The camera is about the lens and the takes are long because he worked out that that way, he can spend less time in the editing suite. The script flows in his own voice; when "Hemingway" talks it jars but when Brody comes on as Dali things lift off.

By setting his late-period movies in Europe Allen has become the great chronicler of the Comfortable American – a five-star Continent of hotels, shopping, tourist strolls – without being seduced by it. Gil (Owen Wilson) is likewise bored. Spirited back to the 1920s, the American writer tells Bunuel about a great idea for a movie about a dinner party. Bunuel doesn't get it ('Why don't they just leave?'); Gil can't stop to explain. Midnight in Paris is an old man's movie: short on time, not fussing over the details.

He churns them out. That's what I like most about Woody Allen. He just goes out and does it, making two a year sometimes, and lets them stand or fall. He's sentimental but doesn't look back; sour but not bitter; captivated by youth, but casts them in great parts. It's a story of magic: it's just another piece of work.

"I didn't know Scarlett from a hole in the wall"

Can recommend the Faber director series' Woody Allen on Woody Allen as a very good book on writing. I have it in storage somewhere. When I was living in Brick Lane I managed to be drinking coffee when Woody Allen walked past: he was filming something just up round 'corner. Small, walks fast, and he really does wear that hat.

Here is Allen in an oldish interview on Vicky Cristina Barcelona. The movie is terrific and cogent (a good Woody) but - surprise! - didn't start that way:
I had the idea about two women going away on a summer thing some place. Someone called from Barcelona and said ‘Would you like to make a picture here? We’ll finance it.’ That’s always the hardest part of making any picture, is getting the financing. Writing it, directing it, or anything else is easier than getting the financing for it, so I said sure, I would do it. I had no idea for anything for it, and then about a week or two later I got a call from Penelope Cruz. I didn’t know her, she wanted to meet, and she was in New York. I had only seen her in ‘Volver’ and nothing else ever. I thought she was great in it, and she said that she knew I was doing a film in Barcelona, and she would like to participate. I started out with Barcelona, with Penelope, and in the back of mind I was going to go to Scarlett. Then I heard Javier [Bardem] was interested, so gradually it took shape. I was writing for these people. I was deliberately writing for these people. I didn’t know Rebecca Hall at all. Juliet Taylor, my casting director, discovered her. She said that she was great, I should read her, and look at some film on her. I did and she was right. I put the thing together for the people almost, as I did it, and did the best I could.
You can read the rest of the interview at Collider.

Vicky Cristina Barcelona star Rebecca Hall (pictured, blaming herself for Javier Bardem) is one of the actresses on the cover of the new Vanity Fair. If you're trying to pick her, she's the one with a future.