"Woody Allen: A Documentary", life through a camera

Woody Allen: A Documentary

I already wrote this: I owe a lot to Woody Allen, not only in terms of "cultural education" but also in terms of humour and a certain view of life. I was sixteen when a friend of a friend passed me a couple of films. The first one was Truffaut's "The 400 Blows" (Les Quatre Cents Coups). It grab me and shook me as very few things before. But it was nothing compared with the impact of the second film. I'm referring, of course, to Allen's "Annie Hall", that not only remains as a fundamental movie for me. I know that will "remain with me" forever.

This personal introduction explains why it was virtually mandatory for me to watch this documentary, even though I suspected there wasn't going to be a lot of new information for me on the director (seen it all, read it a lot). The surprise was that for a while, "Woody Allen: A Documentary", it does proof to be a quite revealing and very entertaining film.

Seems that director Robert Weide has had access (which is remarkable) not only to deconstruct the career of the Brooklyn artist, but also to film a bit of his daily life and creative process. During its first half, we have the chronicle of Allen's rising from teen writer to stand up comedian, TV star to a movie writer-director praised as an iconic auteur. For any devoted fan, the archive footage of his monologues and jokes on TV, along with the opinions of the people who are (look at his film credits!, always the same people) "Allen's gang": Jack Rollins, Charles H Joffe, Letty Aronson...is hugely enjoyable. But the contrast with his opinions on camera, his memories of childhood, and his writing habits (the scenes when he shows his working desk, his impossibly outdated German typewriter, and the scrapped notes he keeps that then will become scripts are precious), make this documentary A MUST-SEE.

Seriously, it could have been close to perfection. We start the recap of his filmography going movie after movie for a while (nice to see Martin Scorsese sharing his views on Allen's career). There's another precious chapter (it couldn't be any other way) with the apparition of Annie, or better said, Diane Keaton. Yes, as the movie says, count me among the ones that felt in love with her in this movie. There's one wonderful scene, with Allen incapable of not laughing in front of her, that it reveals much more than any declaration on their level of connection. But after "Stardust Memories" Weide changes the film structure. Gone is the idea of going film-by-film, and everything seems to be rushing from there on. A glimpse on the Mia Farrow-Soon-Yi scandal, although it is remarkable Allen share a thought on that too, a very quick jump into the 90s, another one on his late "lost period", and then his unexpected success with the charming "Midnight in Paris", all mixed with opinions on his legacy, and how actors (Sean Penn, Josh Brolin, Penélope Cruz, Scarlett Johansson or Naomi Watts among others) enjoy his peculiar way of directing them. Too much in too little time, forgetting too many things...

Now I have found the film I've just seen is the cinema-release version of a PBS documentary which originally clocks at 191-minutes. That is an enormous difference in length (almost 80 minutes) which might help explaining why the second half of the film looks more disjointed and pressed. I'm sorry to say that if that's the case, well then it seems that, again, business defeated cinema. A commercial decision (reducing the film length) was prioritized instead of consistency and coherency of what potentially was a superb documentary on one of the most important directors, if you allow me to say, ever. I know that I will end watching the complete documentary sooner or later, so I'll let you know... For now, a recommendable documentary that could have been a must-see.

SCORE: 6,25/10

"The Tree of Life", the most self-indulgent film ever

The Tree of Life

Beware of someone qualified as an "author". Not saying that Terrence Malick doesn't deserve the adjective. He is a terrific filmmaker, capable of creating scenes of unparalleled beauty. In that sense, "The Tree of Life" is an achievement again, full of striking visuals and imagery. But a film is not just a collection of gorgeous images with a brilliant photography. I'm very sorry to say there's nothing more than that in Malick's film.

What I criticise with the "author" concept, and to me, the main reason why the film is a complete failure, is that Malick made it exclusively for himself, without caring a tiny bit about the audience. It might be the most self-indulgent film I ever seen.

To me, an artist aims to create a connection with his/her art with an audience. That connection can have different expressions: make you laugh, burst into tears, make you think, blow out your mind, terrify you... It links with your emotions and passions, with something inside of you. It's all about our empathy with the characters and or/the story. I remember how I got deeply moved by Malick soldiers' of "The Thin Red Line". Never been in a war, but their fear of death, their doubts and concerns about what they we're doing were completely human and understandable to me. There's no empathy at all with "The Tree of Life".

Seems the film is vastly autobiographical, so while the recreation of the fifties town is vivid and credible, his memories are just too personal to say anything to the regular viewer. What happens is... trivial, and despite the convincing acting of young Jack (Hunter McCracken) and his father (Brad Pitt) the remembrance of this childhood memories and the relationship with his parents and brothers is not particularly appealing or enlightening. Combine that with the aspiration of making a film of cosmic proportions (literally) that supposedly poses all the important questions about life & existence, and you'll have a chaotic, gigantic mess.

But it is much worse. The structure of the movie is a disaster. Every serious critic rating the film as a masterpiece should, at least, admit something's is not quite right in what regards to a film that starts as a mixture of experimental images and a drama, then turns into a long documentary on the creation of the universe, the planet and life, then moves into a drama about a kid's coming-of-age, and then ends into a surreal, experimental way. All with the addition of an ever-present off-voice, and annoyingly epic music, so you don't forget that's an essential moment of the film. Unnamed characters and yes, Sean Penn's brutally edited role, only adds more confusion to an already nonsensical film.

Enough? If not, we can talk about "THE message" of the film. From the very beginning, Malick puts the Bible as the only reference. Loss, grief, fear, desolation, love, are universal feelings that don't need a religious attempt for explanation. So why Malick only has one (extremely conservative) answer to this questions? In my opinion, because he fervently believes it, or because he needed to exorcise his demons of the past. And both aren't reasons strong enough to film this completely unidimensional, pretentious and self-indulgent movie  and getting away with it. No way. "The Tree of Life" only makes sense in Malick's head, not in the screen. Sorry, but the more I think about, the worse it becomes.

SCORE: 1,5/10