Wanted to pass along two movies worth renting, both of which I saw for the first time this week. The first is Stardust Memories, Woody Allen's 1980 followup to Manhattan. Now, following a movie as accomplished as Manhattan, which itself followed the sublimely hysterical Annie Hall would be a task for anyone, but Woody ups the ante even farther by making Stardust an homage to Fellini's 8 1/2. So the progression goes like this: really funny and somewhat personal; really funny and really personal; and then an attempt at really funny and really personal and really complex, too. I think he fails, but Stardust Memories still a hell of a movie. It would be any other comedian's masterpiece, a title I'd give to Annie Hall; as much as Woody is determined to show us his life, I don't think it's really that pleasant or meaningful--there's simply not enough growth or honesty there--so like the aliens say in Stardust, I prefer "the early, funny ones."
Stardust Memories follows the life of Sandy Bates, world-famous comedian, as he struggles to finish a picture, juggle his messy life, and address the big questions, all while being harrassed by adoring fans. Is Stardust Memories funny? Yeah. There's plenty of good Woody one-liners, even though they seem somewhat grudgingly offered.
The Critic Inside Me Who Never Rests had two comments. As much as I love 8 1/2--it's one of my all-time favorites--the Fellini-esque aspects of Stardust (and there are a hell of a lot of them) don't really work. It feels like a Woody Allen movie taking place in front of a Fellini background. First, the organizing principle of 8 1/2--the failing film--is pretty perfunctory in Stardust, so the entire weight of the movie falls on the internal struggle of the director; Stardust is even more self-absorbed than 8 1/2, and weaker as a result. And yet, for all the time we spend with Sandy Bates, we get very little sense of what in his background makes him who he is; unlike 8 1/2, which feels honest in a way that Stardust doesn't. Why does Bates pick barely functional women? We don't know. Why does Bates continue to appear in the public eye if the attention he receives is so off-putting? We don't know. That's because Allen doesn't know, or doesn't want to look. Instead he gives us jokes to distract us, like the magician that he wanted to be as a kid. If he used his background like Fellini does, as an insight to the man he's become, Stardust would've been a more satisfying experience. Instead, other people are the set-up for Woody's jokes.
Allen's profound alienation from other people and lack of faith in general doesn't gel with Fellini's techniques--when you see a strikingly odd face in a Fellini movie, you sense it is being celebrated, or at least presented for examination on its own terms; but in Stardust Memories, you feel it's being shown as "proof" that people are fundamentally ugly and misshapen. Which brings me to my second point: the fans in Stardust Memories are portrayed as nothing but a negative force--whether pompous or stupid, adoring or aggressive, they make Sandy Bates' life unpleasant. Shooting from the hip, I'd say that's because, if you hate yourself, anybody who thinks you're wonderful is clearly an idiot. Fan harrassment was not an issue in 8 1/2, even though Fellini was never more famous or powerful than he was then--in part because he didn't have American celebrity culture to deal with, but also because Fellini didn't trade his privacy for money. It's hard to have sympathy for somebody who had courted celebrity as aggressively as Woody did for 20 years. If Woody had gone from writing for Sid Caesar, to writing movies, then directing them, he would've had more privacy. If he'd even chosen the Harpo Marx route, and performed a physically distinct character...Whatever problems he had, were the very predictable result of his choices. Adulation requires attention, and if you need the one, you must put up with the other. It would've been nice to hear somebody say that to Sandy Bates. Stardust Memories is a very funny movie filled with unasked questions.
The second movie was Wes Anderson's Bottle Rocket. Don't have nearly as much to say about that--the Internal Critic W.N.S. was relatively silent. It was a pleasantly twisty plot, the Wilson brothers were great (whatever went wrong with Owen Wilson's nose should happen to more actors), and several scenes made me laugh quite hard. And there were people doing dangerous things with fireworks, which I always appreciate.
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