There’s something pleasing about the reliable presence of a new Woody Allen film every single year. Every time his trademark font appears on-screen, with the cast list in alphabetical order rather than of importance, fans of his work know they’re in comforting cinematic hands even when the end result isn’t necessarily the strongest the writer-director has ever been.
His last effort was the inconsequential but not entirely unenjoyable Magic in the Moonlight. Now he’s back on form with this tale of Abe Lucas (Joaquin Phoenix), a despondent philosophical professor who moves to a small town to teach. Once there he inappropriately gets involved with one of his more spirited students (Stone). One day the two of them overhear a stranger’s conversation in a diner, leading him to commit a drastic existential act that he believes will give his life true meaning, no matter the effect on those around him.
In the past Allen has used his very particular brand of neurotic witticism to explore such things as obsessive love (Annie Hall), absurdist historical events (Love and Death) and mental illness (Blue Jasmine), to name but a mere few. Here is playing around with the idea of morality and what that means in the face of murder. Can it ever be justified, under the right circumstances? And what happens when one person sees the logic in it while the other, understandably, just can’t get on board? Allen’s mix of light-hearted quirkiness (verging on the whimsical) with these deathly serious themes makes for a fascinatingly disconcerting film that sits on the weightier side of his oeuvre.
As is almost always the case even with Allen’s lesser works, the performances are spot-on. Phoenix is fittingly awkward yet compelling as the dejected philosophy professor trying to find meaning in a world where he himself preaches – to his students and himself – meaninglessness. There’s an inward subtlety to the character that might not have been there if given to a less astute actor. Then there’s Emma Stone; if Magic in the Moonlight saw Allen admiring her from afar, this is him infatuated with her. Her face seems to fill the entire screen whenever she’s on it, exuding a charm, cuteness and just the right amount of quirky oddness that gives a potentially trite character much more meaning and truth.
As it progresses and it becomes clearer and clearer the road that the film is ultimately choosing to travel down, it becomes a case where you have to just throw your hands up in the air and go with it. For those unconvinced by the admittedly jarring mix of amiable quirkiness and obvious darkness, the destination will be too much to bear.
But if you’re on board with what Allen is trying to do then there’s something pleasingly unsettling about the film, in spite of or perhaps because of the awkward bumps along the road. It may be done in a more carefree manner akin to some his more throwaway efforts but there’s at least a feeling that not only does Allen have something genuine to say this time around but he actually believes it.