Tennis

I'm thinking of going back to Tennis lessons. I have not played tennis in about six years. It still is my favourite sport, I just haven't had time for it and all. I always get the tennis bug around this season, so it's no surprise that I feel like going back...and I actually think I will. For some reason whenever I think of tennis in film I always remember Alvy Singer and Annie Hall meeting in Annie Hall. I don't know why, you say tennis, I think Diane Keaton.
What movie do you think of when you hear the word tennis?

“La de da. La de da. La la.”

One of my favourite scenes in Annie Hall happens some time into the film, although chronologically it’s somewhere near the beginning. Annie drives Alvy to her house after a game of tennis. They seem to like each other, but Alvy’s so antagonistic and Annie is such a ‘dweeb’ they’re uncomfortable. Annie starts telling him about a relative of hers that had narcolepsy. Diane’s Annie is there telling the story in all her affable weirdness, and halfway through you get the distinct sense that Annie doesn’t know where the story is going – or why she started telling it in the first place. It’s a weird moment, but I often think if you’re not a fan of this scene you’re not a fan of Annie Hall. For me, Annie Hall is one of those films that has become so lauded that I often doubt people who claim to “love it to death”. It’s not that I doubt the possibility of anyone else finding it to be good. But Woody Allen, a man who is on his known is known for delighting in the off kilter, crafted with Annie Hall one of the most perversely atypical, deliciously satisfying and irrevocably original romantic comedies. Annie Hall is an anomaly – in more ways than one.

It opens with Allen breaking the fourth wall. It’s one of my favourite conceits of the film, and in a film I love so much that’s saying something. In its way, Annie Hall is akin to private conversations with a neurotic. It’s almost as if retelling his story is a cathartic way for Alvy Singer to deal with his issues – and there are so many of them. Few filmmakers are as comfortable in their idiosyncrasies as Allen. Each director I admire has their secret weapon – Kazan has a knack for sympathising with the disturbed and disturbing, Scorsese has a gift of finding the broken and making them heroic, Ivory has the flair for making the past seem so real and potent and Woody knows to make the audience identify with the idiosyncrasies in his characters. It’s a love or hate thing, if you don’t like one Woody film chances are you won’t like most of them, but I do (on both counts). It’s easy to miss the cues while we’re caught up in the hilarity of Alvy’s return to his elementary class, or the comedy of his romancing of Annie. There are little things, like his inability to say “I love you”, or just his natural tendency to find the worst in any situation. But Allen never lays it on too thick, he never creates villains – his characters are always, completely, human. It’s one of the reasons I’m surprised at Annie Hall’s success – it’s not exactly escapism. In the face of its irreverent humour, there’s a mire of uneasiness to make you ponder…

Annie Hall hinges, completely, on the performance of the leads. Sure, the role was written for her – but that doesn’t make her contribution any less valuable. Like Woody, it’s her knack for being pleasant while being annoying that makes the performance such a treasure. Return to the earlier scene I cited, Diane gives one of my favourite quotes when she tells Alvy, “You’re what Grammy Hall would call a real Jew”. It’s a moment that I love not only for Alvy’s excellent reaction (more on that later) but for Diane’s ability to say so much while in reality saying so little. Acting is not just knowing what to do, but it’s knowing what not to do. Diane’s Annie is completely real (and she probably is) because she gives us those weird tics and the moments we’d least expect it, and at the moments that we’d typically expect it she holds back. (She reminds me of another deserving Best Actress winner in that way.) Annie isn’t a particularly nice person, but she has a quality that’s definitely inviting. It’s the same with Woody, though he’s not as understated as Keaton (but nonetheless excellent). I don’t know what it is about Oscar not wanting to give actors Oscar for acting and directing in tandem (Beatty and Olivier both had split decisions). His performance is just brilliant to me. He’s gifted with that brilliant dialogue, but it’s those smaller moments where he completely sells his emotions through his face that always get me. There’s a truthful whimsy that’s incomparable. He’s never been so in touch with his character.

I’m always surprised that Annie Hall won those Oscar. It’s one of those moments of lucidity (becoming rarer and rarer) where they give in to the less obvious. I suppose that Woody Allen is not for everyone. Just like all who gangster films won’t like Scorsese, or those who like epics won’t like David Lean and on and on. But I am in awe of the man, and I adore Annie Hall; it’s #22 on my list of favourite films.

“I Love You, But I Don’t”

Don’t you hate it when the lovers don’t end up together? Damn, realism to hell I think everyone gets those pangs in the stomach when the credits roll and you realise that the lovers will be remain apart. The thing is, it works in films. So many classics have been memorable precisely because the lovers end up apart, it hurts, but it’s still true. It doesn't count when they die, so things like Titanic and Atonement don't count. I'm talking about those films where everyone ends up alive - but they also end up alone, living alone and not liking it.These are the five that I think do the deed best. Interesting enough, interestingly all five are Best Picture winners four are Oscar winners.

                    
Gone With the Wind (1939) (my review)
"Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn."

 Clark Gable doesn’t do much for me, granted I’m not the target audience for him to “do things to”. He’s a fine actor, but I just never go crazy for him. Of course, Gone With the Wind is all about Ms. Vivien Leigh who is completely riveting as our protagonist Scarlett. Unlike another entry, Gone With the Wind is often referred to as a love-story, at heart - something I never really see. I will admit though, Gable and Leigh do have some striking chemistry and that makes the film just a little more excellent.

                       
Casablanca (1942) (my review)
"Play it once, Sam. For old times sakes."

Ingrid Bergman is just lovely, and Bogey is no slouch himself. It's another one of those tragically memorable ones and with good reason, I suppose. I don't love it quite as much as the everyone else, but I do love it.There is much to love. True, the romance sometimes is secondary much of the plot - like with Gone With the Wind) and true it's a story that's more about coping with life's hardships than about love...but it's still a story about love at the end of it all.

                 
Annie Hall (1977) (thoughts on Diane)
"La-di-da, la-di-da, la la"

Of course the crux of Annie Hall lies in her become too mature for Annie Hall and in that way I suppose it's not so sad as pathetic. But I can't make a list like this without Woody. Sure, Alvy just can't commit and that's the very reason the relationship cannot survive - and therein lies the tragedy. They just cannot function together forever, no matter how good they are as one. True it's a comedy, but it's a bittersweet one.
            

Shakespeare in Love (1998) (my review)
"This is not life, Will, it's a stolen season."

It's true, like the others, the poignancy in this tale lies in the fact that the lovers don't end up with each other, but it's still sad. Palthrow and Fiennes work so well together, and we know it won't end well for love. Nonetheless, I can't help but get a little teary eyed as they part for the final time, and when that final image of Palthrow pops up walking on the beach...just magic. It's not wholly loved, but I love it enough to make up for the haters.
               
The Age of Innocence (1993) (my review)
"I think we should look at reality not dreams"

Yes, the last one's the one that didn't get that Best Picture win (or nomination), but I'll always pretend. Michelle Pfeiffer and Daniel Day Lewis are scorching even though they spend so much time apart, but little things like a kiss on the neck, a glove are all so erotic, and it's all so tragic. Scorsese knows how to direct tortured souls, and Newland and Ellen are two such souls. Unlike the above four, they don't even get to consummate their relationships and spend just a few moments of almost bliss. Heartbreakingly tragic.

                     
Which of these unrequited lovers thrill you the most? Which of your own would you add?

Shades of Diane Keaton

It's January 5th and today the original Annie Hall of them all turns 66. Yes, today is Diane Keaton's birthday. Diane Keaton is a whole lot of fun - as an actress and as a "star" though I don't like to use that word. So I'm going to zero in on five of her performances that I find most enthralling like I did on Scarlett's birthday. So wish Diane a Happy Birthday; and enjoy the list.

Theresa Dunn in Looking For Mr. Goodbar (1977)

"I'm alone, I'm not lonely. I'm depressed - you're depressing me."
               
Bessie in Marvin's Room (1996)

"Oh my goodness, just look at you. Are you really that old?"

                   

Annie Hall in Annie Hall (1977)

"La-di-da, la-di-da, la la."

                          
Louise Bryant in Reds (1981)

"No, you love yourself! Me, you FUCK!"

                       

Erica Barry in Something's Gotta Give (2003)

"I'm like the dumb girl that doesn't get it. I've never been the dumb girl before. It ain't so great."