Reviews

Saw "Munich" today between rain storms. Bloody, like its subject. Pointless? No. The movie (about revenge and reprisals after a terrorist attack at the 1972 Olympics) seems to say that all this bickering, murdering and back-and-forth escalation betrays an attachment to tribalism rather than tolerance and understanding. Its subject seems pointless for those of us who have no real say in it, and who don't understand patriotism at all costs. And I really think we have no say. How are we involved in this conflict of hate? Because no matter how we vote, it is pointless. Humanity muddles on. Many of us continue to arbitrarily choose our teams.

Because the film never concludes, and can't conclude, we can only judge it as a polished production with excellent acting and seamless editing. Even as the killings begin to seem redundant, as the sequences of plotting and execution pile on, we must admit that this is the real deal; it is exactly what we are going through--the same sequence of violence begetting violence day after day in Iraq, in the Middle East, in the world.

There are some odd sex scenes in "Munich" telescoped by a moment in "Schindler's List" that made my mother flinch; but to me, Oskar Schindler's intercourse seems redemptive in that movie, as if he is clinging to life amidst death; but in this new movie, the sex has the effect of distancing us from the main character at a crucial point, because the assassin can't get violent images out of his head while he's attempting pleasure. I don't think the moment is inappropriate, but I think it could be misconstrued as a scene of mere propagation: he is creating a new soldier for the fight. I don't think that's what's going on. His wife covers his eyes afterward. She knows he is not seeing her, so she blinds him to regain his attention.

I knew what the last shot of this movie would be. That is, long before the movie ended, I guessed what the last shot would inevitably include, and yet still it works.

This expertly done film has the marketed trappings of a romantic comedy, but as usual the advertising is misleading. "Anything Else" is not a light romp or a gentle farce like some may expect. This is a dark and funny look at today's selfish, chaotic and often violent world. It's about the uncertainty of intention; it's about trusting one's instincts over the words and appearances of others, and it's about learning to survive on one's own. Woody Allen pulls no punches and follows things through to their inevitable end, even allowing his own supporting character to rage blindly and possibly wrongly against the all-encompassing hatred he sees everywhere he goes. Soaked in fecund greens, New York City stands in for the unknown, wild and indifferent jungle (with Central Park as its heart). So it is no coincidence that Woody drives a bright red Porsche that roars like an animal; and it is particularly apt that the car he demolishes out of rage and a sense of justice is green.

Yet the filmmaker allows this kind of paranoia to be suspect. He challenges the fruition of distrusting everyone--even though in many cases throughout the film, the bitterness, rejection and anger are warranted.

Many critics dismiss "Anything Else" as old jokes rehashed or even "unwatchable." I'm not sure what film they saw. I wanted to go back in the moment it ended. Yes, Woody revisits the themes of his previous films. He is an artist. Love and death, infidelity and sex are his motifs. Nobody throws out Hitchcock's later films because they were once again about the wrong man or some guy with a crazy mother. This is a cerebral, subversive movie. It has its one-liners and its rhythm of performance, complete with incredulous stuttering by Jason Biggs and a whiny Christina Ricci as an inscrutable actress. But the film is fresh and strong and--as typical of original art--completely underrated.