Woody Allen: Manhattan

Famously, this is the Woody Allen film that everyone loves which he desperately hated and tried to stop being released. It’s hard to see what he hated so much about it. It’s a very funny movie that also manages to be moving and swooningly romantic. It feels like the movie that best encapsulates Allen’s work as a filmmaker. There’s Woody himself cast in his usual anxious, wisecracking persona; there’s Diane Keaton, his best and funniest costar; there’s the spotlight on New York City which served as the backdrop for most of his films for over 30 years; there’s the romantic entanglements, the razor wit of the script co-written by Marshall Brickman, and the tension between comedy and arthouse. Finally, there’s the love affair between a middle aged man and an underage girl, something that played out not just in Allen’s films, but in tabloid and media discussions of his life to such an extent that my generation knows him less as a comedian or filmmaker and more as “That Creep Who Married His Step-Daughter.”

Was it this aspect of the film that made him frantically backpedal on the film? Did Woody Allen think he had been perhaps too emotionally candid? By most accounts, he did have a relationship with a teenager prior to making Manhattan, and his character’s fictional relationship with a minor in Manhattan is presented in an unflinchingly earnest way. We may never know one way or another, but the fact is that many of Allen’s films feel highly personal, and the fact that he returned to the same subject in later films suggests that he either changed his mind about depicting May-October romances, or he never really cared in the first place and this wasn’t the reason for his dislike of the film.

Frankly, I think the cheesy opening monologue about how indelible New York City is comes off as more embarrassing than Allen trading sexual come-ons with 18-year-old Mariel Hemmingway. Hemmingway’s performance is nicely done, both tough and naive, fresh-faced and world-weary. Meryl Streep and Diane Keaton also turn in sharp, funny performances as the other romantic entanglements for Allen’s character, with Keaton playing a more worldly and cynical variation of Annie Hall.

The whole movie, in fact, seems more “mature” than Annie Hall. It feels like there is more at stake for the characters, and that there are more repercussions for a failed relationship than just loneliness. From the black and white photography to the George Gershwin soundtrack, the whole movie feels nostalgic, and it’s hard not to see Allen’s longing for Hemmingway as an impossible attempt to reclaim his own youth and innocence.