Karl can explain anything involving politics, history and current events in a way that makes it easy for anyone to understand. I know many people who have gone into the teaching profession and this guy is by far the smartest. Not that the others are dumb by any means, but Karl is encyclopedic in his knowledge. However, Karl also walks around large unfamiliar cities carrying an unfolded map in a way that just screams “tourist; please rob.” One time in San Francisco he was counting a large wad of cash in plain sight while walking through an economically disadvantaged section of town. What I am getting at is this; just because something is smart does not necessarily make it intelligent. Which brings us to Woody Allen’s “Annie Hall.”
“Annie Hall” is a very non-traditional romantic comedy in the sense that it is not a screwball comedy. The humor is much more refined and high brow than your average chick-flick. There is a heavy reliance on deadpan delivery and self-deprecation, and to be perfectly honest I don’t think the average moviegoer would get every joke in the movie, in fact it’s entirely possible that a few went over my head. Unfortunately the jokes just aren’t that funny. The meat and potatoes of “Annie Hall” actually ends up being the development of Diane Keaton’s title character, which is still not enough to carry this picture.
The film begins with almost a sort of cold opening with Woody Allen’s character Alvy speaking into the camera like some sort of video confessional, but it seems like he is just trying to break the 4th wall to be unconventional and innovative. He tells a couple of hokey old vaudevillian jokes, using them as a metaphor for his life. In reality they could also represent the film as a whole; by which I mean outdated unfunny. Suddenly he refers to his breakup with Annie as if we are supposed to know exactly what he is talking about, and it is clear that this breakup has affected him deeply. He goes on to explain that he always had a hard time discerning fact from fiction, which sets up the likelihood that the events as they are presented to us aren’t necessarily hard facts as they are presented via his narration.
What this opening also does is let the viewer know right away that the film’s flow and structure will be very non-linear and unorthodox. So much so that one of the more creative tools employed is the unique depiction of flashbacks and back-referencing. When explaining events in his past Alvy is able to transport the other characters as well as himself back to those particular flashbacks, for example, when he tells Annie a story about his youth, they are both transported back to that specific incident and watch it as invisible spectators. However, when this technique is combined with the constant flashbacking and time lapses it is just too nonlinear to enjoy- like Tarantino bad.
Despite the fact that Alvy is dorky, socially awkward and obsessive/compulsive, he feels a sense of superiority over pretty much everyone he comes into contact with, which sort of becomes the focal point of the film. His problems with interpersonal relationships and confrontations with others all stem from his neurosis which forces him to judge other people more harshly than himself. Eventually this will all build up to a major realization that the characters in the film are not in fact the people he initially perceives them to be and subsequently reveals a very human level of character development in Alvy. The problem is that in setting this breakthrough up, we see far too much of pre-enlightened Alvy and his character is absolutely intolerable. Despite the artistic merit of how this metamorphosis is achieved, the fact remains that the character himself is literally the most annoying man ever committed to film. He is like George Costanza to the 100th power and by the end I found myself just not able to give a damn about anything but being put out of my misery.
”Don’t knock masturbation. It’s sex with someone I love!” (Alvy Singer “Annie Hall”)
As the story progresses we see snippets of Alvy and Annie’s relationship, then a jump to a different relationship in Alvy’s life, typically post-Annie. One of the first indicators that Annie has much more depth than Alvy gives her credit for is a scene that takes place in her apartment between the two of them. Despite the fact that there are several indicators in Annie’s décor that imply she is intelligent and artistic (a Sylvia Plath book, an acoustic guitar and what appear to be some self-made photography projects) the focus is her ditzy telling of a story about her narcoleptic uncle.
Another scene that gives insight into Alvy’s personality is a documentation of one of him and Annie’s dates. The two sit on a park bench while Alvy criticizes every passerby in a way that seems more spiteful than playful but Annie seems amused. Later when the two are walking in the darkness (implying that they have spent the whole day together since the park scene was in broad daylight) he finds himself being unable to pay her any kind of compliments other than praising her physical attractiveness. Not only does this establish Alvy as shallow but it also implies that he has made no effort to get to know Annie on any kind of real basis. This seems to be a constant, as yet another scene involves Annie trying to decide on college courses while Alvy tries to initiate sex; the irony and hypocrisy being that he is constantly trying to force reading material and academia on her.
One of their many inevitable breakups occurs as a montage of jump-cutting conversations between the two leaves no doubt as to who has sabotaged the relationship. Alvy discourages Annie’s pursuit of higher education when he suspects she is sleeping with a professor, when Annie reminds him that he was the one who pushed for her to take courses we are shown the conversation where this takes place- with Alvy flatly telling Annie he doesn’t think she is smart. His “selling point” is that adult education classes would benefit her- immediately followed by another jump to him lashing out against adult education courses. This tactic is creative and even amusing in this context, but the effect is regurgitated ad nauseum; intercuts comparing her family meals to his, dueling shots of his and her visits with psychiatrists etc.
Eventually Annie moves to LA, moves back to New York and Alvy is resigned to the fact that they will never be more than friends. He writes a play based entirely on he and Annie’s relationship (he justifies this by essentially using the copout that the best stories come from real life experiences, but it is clear that he also can’t get Annie out of his system) and attempts to move on as best he can by dating other women. At the end of the movie they meet again and Alvy stresses so many times that it is platonic and that he is happy to have Annie as a friend that it is totally unconvincing, so much so that I’m sure that is the point.
The conclusion is jammed with symbolism; Annie takes her new boyfriend to the same Nazi documentary Alvy drug her to time and again (a reference that he has at least worked his way into Annie’s system too), Alvy sees a montage of clips from the film of him and her together and, despite the original context they are all cherished memories now, and the syrupy last shot of the two of them parting ways after a friendly lunch is meant to tug at the heartstrings but really does nothing more than indicate the end of the movie.
It really is a shame that “Annie Hall” drags on as long as it does, because smaller doses of Alvy, less reliance on little stylistic devices I mentioned earlier and a deeper sense of how smart and talented Annie really is would have all made this film much more memorable. However, the only real memories I walk away from it with are those of extreme character eccentricity that would make Larry David puke and so much up-playing of Jewish stereotypes that it puts “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” and the standup comedy of Margaret Cho to shame. Please Woody, the “finding humor in making fun of my own culture” shtick is SO blasé.
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