latest by the master director-writer Woody Allen. not your typical Woody Allen movie, this is a drama not a coomedy, though there are some parts that should elicit laughter in any fan, but probably only fans. the lead actor, don't-remember-his-name gives a decent performance, mostly due to his icy countenance, although his ultra refined British accent does not seem believable for a character supposed to be an Irishman (except, of course, if that is intended as an aspect of the social-climber-in-London). but the best performance belongs to Scarlet Johanson's breasts, the true centerpiece of the movie. [a soundbite-producing critic might say that she sets the "Match" aflame; but i will avoid such inanities. instead, i will say...] but this is (almost) fully-clothed sexploitation, so it is tasteful. the film lulls a bit in the middle, but the ending is masterful.
for an impression of its overall feel, think: a more literate "Closer" with guilt and guns.
Match Point
Match Point
I don't think 'Therefore, I am.' Therefore, I am.
* OPEN LETTER TO W.ALLEN *
I wonder why I was bored almost all the film...?? Well, I hate frontal critic, Woody, but can I make you some advices...?
Well, you always seemed to like and laugh at Bergman at the same time... but it is clear you're not Bergman... and hey, you're not directing Liv Ullman or Diane Keaton in this film... the sounds in the loft and the aparitions, well you're not thrilling....or Stephen King or Agatha Cristhie...or Jane Austen...
The beggining and end have some juicy lines and they work as a sort of theory or mark for the other longs minutes with a linear/boring/previsible/plot that you can find everywhere but with a peculiar intense sleepy saborless component here.
What I really like in you, the dizzy dialogue is non/existant in this film.
But you painted a so rural high/rich English class. You only made me laugh thinking how British our tradicional/alta/oligarquica class is..., that was good!
And the principal actor seemed doped more than icy, that was a
comic note somehow...
Saludos,
Arcadia
I wonder why I was bored almost all the film...?? Well, I hate frontal critic, Woody, but can I make you some advices...?
Well, you always seemed to like and laugh at Bergman at the same time... but it is clear you're not Bergman... and hey, you're not directing Liv Ullman or Diane Keaton in this film... the sounds in the loft and the aparitions, well you're not thrilling....or Stephen King or Agatha Cristhie...or Jane Austen...
The beggining and end have some juicy lines and they work as a sort of theory or mark for the other longs minutes with a linear/boring/previsible/plot that you can find everywhere but with a peculiar intense sleepy saborless component here.
What I really like in you, the dizzy dialogue is non/existant in this film.
But you painted a so rural high/rich English class. You only made me laugh thinking how British our tradicional/alta/oligarquica class is..., that was good!
And the principal actor seemed doped more than icy, that was a
comic note somehow...
Saludos,
Arcadia
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