It's little surprise that Woody Allen,
who uses his films to confess every sordid aspect of his personality
(see Deconstructing Harry if you haven't figured this out
yet), would be happy to let a famous documentary filmmaker (Barbara
Kopple) into his private world--provided he had the right to OK
the final cut, of course. And it's little surprise that Kopple's
footage of Allen and his companion Soon-Yi Previn reveals a functional,
if sorely isolated by fame and notoriety, relationship. So why
bother to see this document of Woody's progress as his old-style
New Orleans jazz band tours Europe? Good question. Despite occasional
nuggets of amusement--like Woody's trademark kvetching or Soon-Yi's
blithe admission that she hasn't seen Annie Hall, thought
Interiors was "tedious," and best loves Manhattan
(the one in which Woody dates a teenage Mariel Hemingway)--there's
little to recommend this glorified home movie. Call it a portrait
of an artist if you wish, but at this point Woody's well past
his artistic prime, and his clarinet dilettantism, while sweetly
impressive, hardly merits a full-length motion picture.
--Woodruff
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