Directed by: Woody Allen
Cast: Woody Allen, Diane Keaton, Tony Roberts, & Carol Kane
Screenplay by: Woody Allen & Marshall Brickman
Runtime: 93 min
Rating: PG
Trailer

What is a romantic comedy? Is it a meet-cute tale of two loveless people learning to cope with each other while avoiding conventional pitfalls? Or a series of scenes that only serve to drive the plot forward and allow our two love struck characters to finally find each other? Or is it simply any movie that has Jennifer Anniston and Freddie Prinze Jr. meeting in a deli and proclaiming it was “love at first sight”? If you look through the list of romantic comedies made in the past 20 years, you’ll notice a trend: nobody knows what the hell they’re doing with these so-called romantic comedies - they’re not romantic and they’re sure as hell not comedies - they only exist to serve that woman you see in the grocery store browsing the magazine rack for the latest gossip on Britney Spears. All of this is especially hard for me to fathom after 1977, the year that Annie Hall was released. Woody Allen set the bar so high that nobody, not even Allen himself, could elevate the genre higher, and that’s a good thing because this film deserves to stand alone as a true work of art by a genius at the top of his game.

In a conventional romantic comedy, this would be the opening: the main character would have been introduced clumsily walking the dog while trying to check his office messages on his blackberry, and then he spills his Cafe Latte on a perky blonde who just happens to be new to the neighborhood…(oh, how unique!). The opening shot of Annie Hall bluntly lets you know that it is not a conventional romantic comedy. Woody Allen, as Alvy Singer, stands pale and awkward in front of a drab wall while staring directly into the camera, and before you have any time to comprehend this image he’s busy filling you in on his life, eccentricities, worries and love. By the time he’s halfway through his monologue, you can’t help but let go as a viewer and trust that you’re in good hands. Woody Allen also places his trust in the audience as well; he’s not afraid to jump back and forth through the narrative and doesn’t spoon feed the barrage of jokes, one liners and jabs that might go over some people’s heads.

After this unique and brief opening, the film takes off and fills us in on Alvy’s childhood in Brooklyn where he lived under the “Coney-Island Rollercoaster” that, he thinks, accounts for his “nervous personality”. That’s what is so wonderful about the characterizations, is this Alvy’s childhood or Woody’s? The autobiographical nature of the story and the characters feel so genuine that you would swear the film is in some ways a documentary. It’s no surprise then to realize that Woody Allen and Diane Keaton had a brief relationship before Annie Hall was ever conceived. According to the stories, Keaton was nicknamed “Annie” as a child and “Hall” was her middle name.

The rest of the film tells the story of blossoming love through Alvy’s eyes as he jumps from relationship to relationship with women he either ruins by accident or, more likely, on purpose. The film hits its stride when he meets Annie at a quick game of indoor tennis; it’s so different from the meet-cute in all of the other movies and is how a real life meeting would play out - full of awkwardness, nervousness and useless conversation all trying to mask how insanely inexperienced and terrified they are of where this might lead to - all brilliantly underscored later in the scene when Annie and Alvy talk on the balcony with subtitles under their dialogue revealing what they’re actually thinking. Although it’s been often imitated, it’s still a classic scene.

There are several supporting roles that are vividly realized by wonderful actors. Paul Simon has a small cameo as an impish musician trying to lead Annie away from New York to L.A. to work on an album, much to the displeasure of Alvy who quips of L.A., “I don’t want to be in a place where the only cultural advantage is that you can make a right turn at a red light”. Tony Roberts plays Alvy’s best friend, Max, who insists on also calling Alvy Max. There’s also a host of wonderful female performances who play Alvy’s dates throughout the film, most notable is Shelly Duvall who plays a woman so removed from Alvy’s character that she’s always confused as to whether Alvy is quoting someone important or just simply speaking. There’s also a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment with Jeff Goldblum at a California house party.

Not one part of the film has been dated. The music, acting, editing (usually the long takes), dialogue and the jokes are timeless; just as relevant today as they were in the 70’s. No small feat considering how many movies made during that time are downright embarrassing now (looking right at you - Star Wars). Woody Allen is often criticized for not having much of a visual flair as a director, but anyone who actually believes that isn’t paying attention. While not as visually stunning as the black and white cinematography of his later film Manhattan, Annie Hall is a lot more subtle but just as effective. He knows when to pull out all the stops, combining split screens when Annie and Alvy are in two different scenes but share a conversation with each other. Or more famously, the animated sequence where Annie cries out, “I’m a cartoon! I can’t get a period”.

These stylistic flourishes could have come off as ridiculous and too self aware but they are handled with restraint and craftsmanship that renders them delightful. A montage near the end, used to reflect on the relationship Alvy has had with Annie, is notable for highlighting the simplicity and elegant beauty of Gordon Willis’ (The Godfather I & II) cinematography - nothing over the top and a welcome change from the A.D.D. obsessed directors of today with their hyper kinetic images that induce seizures if you don’t periodically look away.

Where Allen really shines though is the writing, which is often hilarious and poignant all at once. It would probably take up an entire article on just listing some of the best quotes (check out the “memorable quotes” section on imdb.com). Not only are the jokes hilarious but the characterizations are all so spot-on; filled with humor, sass, paranoia and idiosyncrasies that is common for the film as a whole. It’s really no surprise that it beat out Star Wars for best picture during the 1977 Academy Awards. Sadly, an original movie this personal and touching would never win a Best Picture Oscar over the more conventional Hollywood films of today. Do yourself a favor stop watching The Perfect Man or Must Love Dogs and pick up Annie Hall. You won’t be disappointed in this beloved classic.

Richard X
© Cinephile Magazine, 2005