One of Woody's most (if not the most!) personal work. A challenging and layered autobiography of "certain artists" juggle between deepening personal crises and growing public image, scripted and edited like a stream of thoughts and/or a semi-engaged meditation. Right of the start and until the ending scene, a clear stab at cynical film industry, along with insightful reflections on his usual topics.
Malgré une dose de narcissisme quelquefois insupportable et certaines redites dans le discours, Woody Allen mérite cette fois-ci encore toute notre sympathie. L'humour du réalisateur, de plus en plus grinçant, agresse avec délectation la médiocrité du commun des mortels et la bêtise d'une certaine intelligentsia... www.cinefiches.com
It's a wonderful film on its own, maybe not quite as palatable as '8 1/2' if you compare them. The biggest difference for me was seeing Allen as his own subject; he isn't sexy or 'cool' in any way and it was tough for me to see him obsessively fawned over for 90 min. straight, even if it was an obvious exaggeration. You just know that this man is actually this far up his own ass..nonetheless, something spectacular.
Good, not great film. Allen plays a filmmaker having a midlife crisis and hates how his fans wont accept that hes not the same man he was 5-10 yrs ago. Being a musician, the film is super relatable, I just thought it was a bit heavy handed. Allen blended comedy and drama/self reflection better in later films, but this is a big one in his canon, his first big middle finger to the Hollywood establishment. 3.5 stars
on par with manhattan. woody, once again, is a creep, and his ideas of romance are disgusting (there's a bit about flirting with a 13 y/o, about being attracted to one's parents, and cheating is rampant). the images are beautiful, and the last 20 minutes of surreality are captivating. woody is unapologetically autobiographical, and i hate that he weakens the ladies in his movies. he really doesn't get women at all.
Oh, the shenanigans Allen had to came up with just to rub his hands all over Charlotte Rampling in the name of art... I thought the film was a pretentious and sort of lazy take on a film director facing a creative/emotional pseudo-crisis. Allen may deny this was autobiographical, but I mean... it was, right? I don't, I felt that Rampling was just too good for this boring film.