A mentally unstable Vietnam War veteran works as a night-time taxi driver in New York City where the perceived decadence and sleaze feeds his urge for violent action, while attempting to save a preadolescent prostitute in the process.
Robert De Niro,
Alvy Singer, a forty year old twice divorced, neurotic, intellectual Jewish New York stand-up comic, reflects on the demise of his latest relationship, to Annie Hall, an insecure, flighty, Midwestern WASP aspiring nightclub singer. Unlike his previous relationships, Alvy believed he may have worked out all the issues in his life through fifteen years of therapy to make this relationship with Annie last, among those issues being not wanting to date any woman that would want to date him, and thus subconsciously pushing those women away. Alvy not only reviews the many ups and many downs of their relationship, but also reviews the many facets of his makeup that led to him starting to date Annie. Those facets include growing up next to Coney Island in Brooklyn, being attracted to the opposite sex for as long as he can remember, and enduring years of Jewish guilt with his constantly arguing parents. Written by
A boom microphone is visible in the cabin bedroom scene. This is reportedly deliberate. See more »
[addressing the camera]
There's an old joke - um... two elderly women are at a Catskill mountain resort, and one of 'em says, "Boy, the food at this place is really terrible." The other one says, "Yeah, I know; and such small portions." Well, that's essentially how I feel about life - full of loneliness, and misery, and suffering, and unhappiness, and it's all over much too quickly. The... the other important joke, for me, is one that's usually attributed to Groucho Marx; but, I ...
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Christopher Walken's name is misspelled in the credits as "Christopher Wlaken". See more »
Disgusting, boring monument to selfish and neurotic romance
I realize I'm taking on an icon here, but honestly, this is the most disgustingly boring and over-rated film to come out of the 1970's. It is unfortunate that the rather pathetic Woody Allen, an admittedly intelligent man who alas squanders his considerable talents, firmly believes that the cosmos revolves around his legendary neuroses. Even more unfortunate, is the fact that he has succeeded in persuading a large percentage of the Western world to agree with him. Frankly, it does not speak well of our culture.
This (yawn) movie revolves around a pair of self absorbed lovers...a neurotic New York comedian, Alvy Singer (played by Woody) and a would-be singer, Annie Hall. The two, both in analysis, move in together so they can exchange tales of their professional, paid for navel gazing. I certainly wouldn't want to imply that it might be simply for the convenient sex. The rest of this so called neurotic romance is far too inconsequential to bother detailing here.
Annie Hall is played by Diane Keaton, an actress who is actually very competent. Her movies are frequently not my favorite, though I did enjoy the cute Baby Boom. Her only memorable aspect in this film is her Ralph Lauren clothes, now of course quite dated, which supposedly caused a fashion revolution at the time.
That classic comment of Woody's regarding sex, "This is the most fun I've had without laughing" doesn't particularly impress me with its brilliance. Fear not, Shakespeare, Woody serves as no threat to you as master of the English language. It is indeed sad that so many people seem to praise this mindless, uninspiring, unoriginal, and not even particularly amusing pearl of wisdom as though it had virtually descended from the gods on Mount Olympus.
Annie Hall isn't the absolute worst movie I've ever seen, but it really doesn't have much to recommend it. I normally adore romances, but neither one of these two selfish neurotics captured my sympathy or even remote interest. Furthermore, the supposed witty banter between the pair failed woefully to either entertain or amuse me. Back in 1977 when I saw this movie at the theatre with my husband (then boyfriend), we both sincerely wished we'd found some paint and watched it dry instead. I guess this intellectual comedy was just far too complicated for little old us to appreciate.
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