WHATEVER WORKS (Woody Allen 2009)

[Chris Knipp]

Woody Allen: Whatever Works (2009)

Review by Chris Knipp

Sometimes 'Whatever Works' works. . .

After four movies shot in Europe, Woody Allen is back in New York -- which he said was too expensive; that was his excuse for leaving -- with a screenplay written in the 1970's for the late Zero Mostel. It has evidently been tweaked and updated to fit Larry David of "Curb Your Enthusiasm." David is nothing like Mostel and it's hard not to see him merely as the ill-humored wit of cable TV and the co-creator of "Seinfeld" forced to recite Allen's lines instead of improvising his own. David isn't an actor, and has little variation in his line delivery. He comes across here as someone much meaner than either the usual Woody or his own "Curb Your Enthusiasm" alter ego. His character, Boris Yellnikoff, is a boorish, narcissistic physicist specialized, fashionably, in "string theory," who was once considered for a Nobel Prize but didn't get it and now has broken up with his hot-shot wife and moved to a cramped Village loft. He makes a small income giving abusive chess lessons to unfortunate children. He also hangs out with some local intellectuals. This is his life when a beautiful, terminally naive young woman begs him to take her in and the action of the movie begins.

Boris is not the usual nerdy, self-deprecating Woody Allen mouthpiece. Though he is paranoid, repeatedly attempts suicide, and has panic attacks, he has this enormous ego and constantly boasts of his 200 IQ "genius"-level intelligence while repetitiously describing all the rest of the world as worms and morons. He would make riding bikes on the sidewalk and using the word "mom" capital offenses; proposes that children be sent to summer concentration camps to show them what the world is like; and for a fun outing suggests a visit to the Holocaust Museum. Larry David has a very different visual style than Allen himself, is taller and wears sloppy T-shirts and Bermuda shorts or sweatpants instead of pressed chinos, Shetland sweaters and tweeds. Much of the charm and polish are gone, and in their place we get laid-back swagger. But still in the background is old jazz, Fred Astaire movies, and Beethoven.

There's a disconnect in this film. On the one hand is the protagonist, who is pessimistic, depressive and mean, yet finds beautiful women young and old attracted to him. On the other is the rest of the cast and the plot, involving a group of subsidiary characters who come and go acting out a pleasant little farce about a southern family, consisting of young runaway Melodie St. Ann Celestine (a charming Evan Rachel Wood), her mother Murietta (the able Patricia Clarkson), and her father John (an appealing Ed Begley Jr.), who separately come to Manhattan and are reborn as bohemians and sophisticates. The daughter marries Boris, but later finds love with a handsome young English actor (Henry Cavill) who lives on a houseboat. (Never fear: Boris falls onto an equally lovely older women.) The mother becomes an audacious art photographer living in a ménage à trois with a gallerist and a professor. The father realizes he is gay and lives with his new boyfriend and declares that for the first time in his adult life he is happy.

The connecting link between the protagonist's gloomy worldview and the movie's happy outcomes is a key clause in Boris' philosophy. Life sucks, so in this bitch of a world, it's okay to do anything you can to be happy -- "whatever works." (Coming to Manhattan seems to make "whatever" work much better.) Boris insists that in matters of romance there is no logic. This apparently means love can fall into your life with no effort. But still the disconnect is unresolved. And the protagonist stays out of sync with the plot, a fact accentuated by the way he not only harangues the other characters, particularly Melodie (who memorizes s and repeats everything he says, sometimes inaccurately), but repeatedly steps aside and directly addresses the audience, visibly separating himself from the action. You might at least expect Boris to come in at the end and apologize for saying so many mean things about people. Something is missing.

But that doesn't keep the movie from being wickedly funny at times, usually due to Boris' outrageous remarks. Even though his meanness and abusiveness toward everyone, particularly Melodie, wear extremely thin, the Woody Allen wit still shines through him.

In a recent interview Allen euphemistically told NPR that for him film-making "distracts me from the uncertainty of life, the inevitability of aging and death. . ." In the past he's just flat-out said it starves off depression. Stay busy: that's his mantra. His movies keep him from jumping out the window like Boris. They serve him first of all. Sometimes they serve us too. The audience during my viewing of Whatever Works laughed louder and more often than at any other comedy I've seen this year. Nonetheless this effort to avoid Bellevue or antidepressants is a trifle, pulled down from the shelf and dusted off. It can't possibly compete with the glitter and electricity of Match Point or Vicky, Christina, Barcelona.

[oscar jubis]

NOTES TOWARD THE DEVALUATION OF WOODY ALLEN ON THE OCCASION OF THE RELEASE OF HIS 40TH FILM

Whatever Works, Woody Allen's latest film, illustrates the veteran director's serious shortcomings as a filmmaker. Most of his films revolve around variations on a persona he began to create when he transitioned from gag writer to stand-up comedian in 1961. The character is a neurotic, cultured, physically-challenged, secular Jew with an active libido. Perhaps due to inherent insecurities, the character gravitates towards women who are impressionable because of their youth and/or limited intellectual exposure. This female archetype dates back to the 1970s. Annie Hall, the girl from Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin played by Diane Keaton and the 17 year-old played by Mariel Hemingway in Manhattan are antecedents of Melodie, the homeless southern belle in Whatever Works. It's not surprising to learn that the film is based on a script written in the 1970s. The script has been superficially updated so that the action can be set in the present but it fails to provide any character insights. Boris, the variant of Allen's seminal character played by Larry David, lacks the self-deprecation that balances out the character's narcissism and the horniness that gives him vitality. When Boris breaks the fourth wall and admonishes us for wasting our time and money on such a disagreeable protagonist, he is being painfully accurate.

Boris repeatedly advertises he has a "huge worldview". This is partly contradicted by a pre-diegetic suicide attempt that left him lame and a second one at the conclusion of the film which grants him a suitable romantic partner. The implication that chance does play a part in the direction of our lives will not enlighten anyone but it is factual. As Boris would say: "Hey, whatever works." What is truly deplorable is that the film sanctions his contempt and condescension. It does so to a large extent by sketching Melodie's parents like cartoons, as Allen has acknowledged in interviews. The resolution revolves around Mr. and Mrs. Inbred-moron being transformed by contact with the advanced human species found in Allen's racially segregated version of Manhattan.

I think Woody Allen is a magnificent stand-up comedian and his films are mostly vehicles to carry that type of comedic routine to a mass audience. However, as a film artist, his fame is significantly greater than his level of accomplishment. His films are rarely, if ever, memorable. Yet most of them have enough redeeming qualities to make them worth watching. Many include enough funny one-liners and gags to meet our expectations of what a good comedy must provide. Several of his films contain extremely accomplished performances, especially by actresses. I personally favor Diane Keaton in Manhattan Murder Mystery, Judy Davis in Husbands and Wives, and Dianne Wiest in Bullets Over Broadway. Also, Allen's use of ace cinematographers sometimes enlivens his indistinctive mise-en-scene. The gorgeous black and white vistas delivered by Gordon Willis in Manhattan come to mind. And no one would fault Allen's impeccable musical taste.

Having said that, Allen's artistry is hampered by his inability to fully grapple with any themes raised by his films. No issue is ever forced to the required point of crisis. Moreover, the contradictions raised by his iconic persona, whether played by himself or a surrogate, are only addressed within the limited confines of the punch line. Woody Allen's most enjoyable (I don't mean masterful) films seem to fall into three categories: films like Broadway Danny Rose which features the Allen persona at his most benign; recent films like Vicky Cristina Barcelona and Match Point in which this persona is absent and the director is inspired by a foreign setting; and films like Annie Hall in which a sufficient number of gags work and numerous one-liners display Allen's wit and comedic gifts. Whatever Works does not fit into any of these categories and it does not include any performance worth the price of admission and ninety minutes of your time. This project should have stayed in the shelf where it languished for thirty years.

[Chris Knipp]

Many good points about the flaws of Whatever Works and of its main character, with which I wholeheartedly agree, though I don't find some things, e.g. the cartoonish parents, as objectionable as you do. As for bringing down the director's reputation, is that necessary? Hasn't it been fairly low for a long time? (Higher in France though, almost certainly.)

On the shelf maybe this "should' have stayed, but as I pointed out, Woody can't be silent. And as with all uneven artists whose productivity is an essential given of the career because the only way to keep a hand in is to keep working, the mediocre efforts are necessary stepping stones to the greater successes. And he keeps busy to stay sane. I wouldn't begrudge him that.

This may seem a low point, but there have been plenty of other low points long before this: forgettable efforts seem to have predominated ever since the Seventies. But however bad -- because unappealing -- Whatever Works may seem, there have been notable recent as well as past successes. These may or may not include some of his more serious efforts inspired by European directors like Antoinioni or Bergman, such as Manhattan, Hannah and Her Sisters, Husbands and Wives, which have come in for considerable critical acclaim. Vicki, Cristina, Barcelona is bright and entertaining, and Match Point is thrilling and has an edge. I would not force Allen into retirement as long as he could produce work like those two.

That said, Whatever Works does stand out as a kind of inexplicable perversion of the typical Woody Allen persona into a version of him who possesses his existential angst without (as you note) any of his modesty, horniness, or other redeeming charms.

I don't know if your notes toward devaluation are necessary, or that you would want to try a career evaluation. A review of Woody's full filmography is a daunting project because of the range and sheer quantity. Simply listing a few of the movies as varieties of the more "enjoyable" but not "masterful" doesn't qualify as a career summation. Even some of Whatever Works, works. I follow your own guideline here from your film student's credo, moderation in evaluating films:
Moderation
A minor point, most relevant to film criticism. I think most movies fall between "mediocre" and "good". There are few truly bad movies and even fewer masterpieces I think this is very wise and I mentally refer to it often in avoiding extreme criticism. The same moderation applies to the collective "oeuvre" of an "auteur": it's not as marvelous or as horrible as some may think, and there's a lot of interest there, even if we don't want to devote our lives to analyzing it.

[oscar jubis]

I just don't "get" some of your comments. Any attentive reader would note that even though the title of the essay refers to a "devaluation", I've spent considerable effort in pointing out many characteristics of Allen's films that make the bulk of them enjoyable and worth-seeing. "Notes..." is not some kind of a hate piece. It is also not quite a "career summation" hence the "Notes Toward" in the essay title implying something of a more modest scale. Moreover, there's nothing in my "Notes" that implies I want "to force Allen into retirement". Why do you find it necessary to respond to rather extreme views not contained within my post? It's a waste of your time and my time. I even mention the recent Vicky Cristina Barcelona and Match Point among Allen's "most enjoyable films".

I just don't think Allen has a masterpiece in him. Not even Annie Hall and Manhattan, perhaps two of his best films (if I was to extend my "Notes", it would behoove me to discuss them specifically, given their lingering reputation as masterpieces). I don't think Allen is what I would call a "major" director and I explained the rationale for that within the limits of the length of the piece.

I didn't find Whatever Works enjoyable at all, or worth my time and effort. Actually, I found aspects of it downright deplorable. I find it hard to write a mixed or lukewarm review of this movie. Perhaps it's a minority view. For starters, there's probably a discrepancy between what makes me laugh and what makes others laugh (the most subjective aspect of evaluating a Woody Allen film.) In my opinion, Whatever Works is not exemplary of why we want Allen to continue making films. I do expect better from him. Maybe he should stay in Europe where his next three projects will be shot.

[Chris Knipp]

Your post was sweeping enough to draw my ambitious reply, particularly to what it implied in the title--though that is indeed contradicted by some of the comments you made "a considerable effort to point out" as "any attentive reader" would notice, a note of condescension that I do not fail to notice. I wonder if I'm being an inattentive reader or a too-attentive one.

This time for instance you say you're not asking Woody to retire, but conclude, "In my opinion, Whatever Works is not exemplary of why we want Allen to continue making films. " Can't you see that's just a polite and equivocal way of saying, "We want him to retire"? Contradictions do not fail to be contradictions by being stated in a guarded way. I contradict myself plenty, by the way, but that doesn't bar me from pointing out illogic in others. I do see what you mean to say: we expect better of him. And we can.

In general I steer clear of the Rosenbaum word "masterpiece," and indeed find it inappropriate for a dogged plodder like Allen. I am not into list-making either. But I'll play the game and add a couple to the list and say that though some like the social comedies like Manhattan or Annie Hall, and there are clearly classics, I'd prefer the bizarre comedies like Bananas or Sleeper myself.

Be that as it may, I thoroughly agree with you on what you specifically said about the movie under review, even though I may have discussed it with fewer expressions of disapproval. Some films are genuinely and intentionally outrageous (like Borat and Bruno), but this is an inferior effort that doesn't deserve being dignified by our outrage. That's my opinion, which guided my review. But your outrage is thoroughly justified. The "boorish, narcisstic" hero (my words), Boris Yellnikoff, is given entirely too much alack in Whatever Works. Nonetheless there are good actors who do charming turns in the film and the small but devoted audience with which I watched it had an uproarious good time. So even at his most lackluster, Woody Allen does something right, and that is why he's a consistent performer, lack of "masterpieces" or no.

Nonetheless you're justified in not being "lukewarm" about Whatever and finding much in it "deplorable." Could it be his most "deplorable"? Then that may show there's some life in the old boy yet. I also agree he might do well to stay in Europe and it's good news that his next three will be made there. Vicki, Christina and Match Point were very successful, Match Point in my opinion more so in having an edge of danger about it.

[oscar jubis]

Quite fair and nicely written. I watched Bananas and Sleeper during their original theatrical runs in El Salvador when I was very young. I found them quite funny and I probably would enjoy them if I watch them again.
I use the word masterpiece to refer to those films that provide the best rationale for spending so much time watching, discussing, thinking and writing about movies.

[Chris Knipp]

Masterpiece is a Rosenbaum word with dangerous consequences if too freely applied. I prefer to avoid it (not a promise never to use it) as I also prefer not to be forever making lists. That said, I have found Rosenbaum's rating system in the past one of the best, because of the way he has in some instances clearly explained how he applied it. So although 'masterpiece' is an excessive word, Rosenbaum's rating system seems to me quite practical and has helped me learn how to "rate" films for the marketplace of public opinion.

[cinemabon]

Does any Woody Allen film actually have a point? By that I mean, I know they have a plot, a beginning, middle and end... the characters evolve. However, where does the story go? To me, watching an Allen picture is to see a stream of consciousness, either mixed into a storyline or within the context of a story. He sees life as a series of vignettes... some illustrate a point, while most try to do so in a humorous way. That is Allen. He does this in every film.

I never thought of Allen as a major director either, mostly because he only directs his own material and that is based on his observations as a comedian, an intellectual comedian, but still from an absurdist point of view.

I think secretly, Allen wishes he were not pegged into being a comic. He wants to be James Joyce, and life is more like "Ulysses" a stream of conciousness that flows from his mind. He tried to be taken seriously ("Interiors"); it was a beautiful film, great acting, but again... the series of vignettes. If Allen could direct a great screenplay, then he might move up a notch. But he projects so much of his own persona into every project, I think he would find it difficult not change the script until he found a character to inhabit. Then the character would start acting out Allen's life, Allen's frustrations, Allen's observations, and exhibit some of Allen's self-depreciating charm. But then, what we really want to see is Allen doing his schtick... and with Allen, that is what you usually get. So what's new?

[Chris Knipp]

Allen wasn't originally a serious filmmaker. It began as a lark, and then became a habit. We know that he leaves actors on their own. That's not unique with him, but his directorial style reminds one of his famous remarks that 90% of life is just showing up. He shows up on the set. Isn't this also why directors can go on making films in their 90's? Most of the work is done by others. But usually there is the Woody Allen voice.

I also think Woody Allen is an auteur who looks different, like Jerry Lewis, when seen from the French point of view. He is more appreciated there. Americans are particularly hard on certain American directors. This is probably one of the reasons for Allen's doing a series of movies overseas recently.

It is also true that he has the serious side and would love to have been Ingmar Bergman. Aren't clowns usually sad? I remember seeing him on the Dick Cavett show once just answering a series of questions, I think read off from an IQ Test. He was brilliant. He also has written very good stories for The New Yorker. He's very bright and extremely imaginative and has different kinds of ideas. all good, none necessarily great.

When I think of people like David Lynch or even Jim Jarmusch whose work is so much more cinematic, they're on another level as directors. But a movie doesn't have to be quintessentially cinematic to be good.

[oscar jubis]

I am glad to read cinemabon's post. Glad you never thought of Allen as a major director. I've been hearing about how the French love Allen for decades. Maybe there's some basis for it. French critics certainly liked Whatever Works more than their American counterparts. It's harder to ascertain audience response to the film. American IMdb users give the film a rating of 7.8 out of 10. That's very high and exactly the same rating as "non-US users." Allen does have a loyal following in his own country.

I wish I could agree that a "devaluation" of Allen amounts to "beating a dead horse". I think this minor filmmaker gets too much respect. I base this belief not only on numerous comments from cinephiles opining on discussion forums but also on the following data:

*In 1996, when Allen was arguably at a low creative ebb, Entertainment Weekly magazine listed him at #19 in a list of "50 Greatest Directors of All-Time".

*In 2005, Empire magazine (UK) listed Allen as the tenth!!! "Greatest Director of All-Time".

*In 2006, MovieMaker magazine included Allen among "The 25 Most Influential Directors of All-Time".

*In 2007, the editors of Total Film Magazine listed Allen at #19 "Best Director of All-time".

[Chris Knipp]

Would certainly not say Woody hasn't a loyal US following. I observed that he did even for the screening I just saw. But the critical reputation isn't as high maybe as abroad (France). I've seen that when in France and a Woody movie was coming or there.

Perhaps he's just not quite as minor as you think though. Minor-ness being as it is, like major-ness, an aspect of reputation and not an inherent value or lack of it.

Those listings do seem a bit overly enthusiastic. But then as I say I don't like lists, or trust them. So, if this is going to be about lists from here on, perhaps I should bow out.

Met a couple tonight at a screening of (500) Days of Summer in San Francisco, originally from New York. Both liked Whatever Works and the husband said he found nothing to dislike in Boris.

[cinemabon]

HA! I'd like to see those lists! We've seen lists, especially from AFI, in the past that seemed to defy logic. I doubt the criteria for their rating system would pass the test in most cinephile circles. The serious ones.

Directors...

My thoughts on directing are two fold. If you look at the past, when directors were part of the studio system, very few had enough power to make a difference. Even directors I personally liked had poor control over their final product. Some directors, such as Norman Jewison, would purposely under shoot takes so that editors back in Hollywood had little choice but to use the takes he provided. That was how he controlled a film's content. That did not always work. Studios were prone to cut scenes, dialogue, music and change endings to suit market research.

I think of Allen more as a rogue artist, someone who had the backing from Joffe, Rollins, and others to be "expressionistic." Most films are projects that must be pitched to studios or financial groups for backing. Allen didn't have to worry about that. He had a set audience. "It's another Woody Allen picture." For a while, the New York critics loved him. Recently, his work has grown stale. New critics have replaced the older ones. They look at his work with more skepticism and objectivity. Oscar is correct to point out that Allen has been running a one man show for a long time and being overcredited for it.

If Allen is in tenth place... I can't bear to think who is in 11th... probably David Lean or Stanley Kubrick or Alfred Hitchcock or Willie Wyler or John Ford or Steven Speilberg or Robert Zemekis or Orson Welles or Francis Ford Coppola or Michael Curtiz or Robert Wise or Joseph Mankiewicz or Norman Jewison or Mervyn LeRoy or Howard Hawks or Mike Nichols or Martin Scorsese or Clint Eastwood or Oliver Stone or Fred Zinneman or George Cukor or Billy Wilder or George Stevens or Kurosawa or Bergman or Fellini or or or !

Of course... what do I know?

[oscar jubis]

You understand exactly what I mean, cinemabon.
Here's the Empire magazine list of Best Directors published in 2005:
1. Steven Spielberg
2. Alfred Hitchcock
3. Martin Scorsese
4. Stanley Kubrick
5. Ridley Scott
6. Akira Kurosawa
7. Peter Jackson
8. Quentin Tarantino
9. Orson Welles
10. Woody Allen
11. Clint Eastwood
12. David Lean
13. The Coen Brothers
14. James Cameron
15. Francis Ford Coppola
16. Oliver Stone
17. Sergio Leone
18. John Ford
19. Billy Wilder
20. Sam Peckinpah

[Chris Knipp]

Good points from cinemabon about Woody's original cred as an independent director who could avoid studio censorship. His work once seemed truly fresh.

That list says lists aren't what they used to be. It's a mixture of middlebrow, lowbrow and highbrow, which can only work for one person, ant a collective or collaborating list.

[cinemabon]

Yes, because we all know that Peter Jackson is much better than Billy Wilder and Quenton Tarantino has it all over John Ford! And whose this guy in fifteenth place? How did he make the list? Geesh!

What? (...follow by the loud sound of screeching brakes!)

Plus... Lean didn't even make 11th place. He's in 12th! UUUGGGG!!!!

[Johann]

Spielberg himself would admit that Kubrick is a better filmmaker.
So always take lists with a big grain of salt.
And Kubrick might even say that Lean is better than him. *MIGHT* (wink)
And where's the French Master Max Ophuls?
Criminal that he or Ozu or Dreyer aren't on the list.
But this is Empire were talking about here.
The fanboy bloke rag.
That was the first film magazine I subscribed to (in 1998).
I stopped buying it in 2004 because I had too much paper in my apartment! Large mag, that one! But it's still very worth reading.