The plot: Marked woman Carolina (Juno Temple), after leaving
her mob husband, returns to Coney Island to be with her father Humpty Rannell
(Jim Belushi), his wife Ginny (Kate Winslet) and her son Richie (Jack Gore). At
the same time, Ginny starts an extra-marital affair with lifeguard Mickey
(Justin Timberlake), giving her a newfound sense of happiness about her life.
However, that happiness may be short-lived once he catches the eye of Carolina,
and Ginny’s mental state is about to take a turn for the worst.
As per Woody Allen’s usual trappings, the cast is full of
big names. Hell, even considering Justin Timberlake’s inclusion here, this cast
list is pretty enticing… on paper. In reality, it comes off like no one here
has ever acted in a feature-length production before. Timberlake is trying and
failing miserably to maintain that Brooklyn accent and his delivery always
sounds off because of it. Temple barely even has a character to work with,
playing what can charitably be called a cheerleader for Mickey, and it puts a
dent in her otherwise pretty solid filmography. Belushi probably gets across
the emotion of his character the best out of everyone here, but since he’s
still paired up with some incredibly wonky co-stars, it feels like he’s putting
in too much effort than is necessary.
And then there’s Kate Winslet, who might
give the worst performance of the lot, if not of any film I’ve seen her in.
While aided by how she’s given the most well-defined character to play with,
her own attempt at a Brooklyn accent combined with how stiff and unnatural she
is in virtually every scene makes for a central character that needs to be
pulled out of the circle. To be fair, though, she did give the single best line
of the film all the gusto possible in a scene between her and Temple about how much
she isn’t looking forward to turning 40.
The visuals here are both stylised and too garish for their
own good. Aside from veteran cinematographer Vittori Storaro (Apocalypse Now,
Dick Tracy, Café Society) giving a good amount of scope and grandeur to 1950’s
Coney Island, the rest of it feels like a stage play that inexplicably was
released to cinemas. The main set of the film, that being the Rannells’ house,
is about as much of a set as it is possible for a film to get without just
peeking into the backstage. I get that cinema has its origins in the world of
theatre and there’s a lot of overlap between them, but surely, getting a
connection between the two across could have been done better than this.
But
that is ultimately a minor point compared to the far more glaring visual
problem: The colour palette. Now, admittedly, there’s a decent idea behind what
prominent colours we get through the lighting. The way Allen and Storaro
segment off the lighting to make two halves of a single house look like literal
night and day is an interesting approach, highlighting how Ginny’s affair
ended up bringing some colour back into her life. However, there’s a problem with
the choice of colour, specifically
the only two that get used: Light blue and bright orange. During certain
conversations on-screen, the film switches between solid blocks of these two
colours depending on the mood of the conversation, usually going darker the
worse things turn out for Ginny. However, that contrast between blue (almost
blue-grey at times) and orange? A lot of films nowadays use that same trick.
They’re distinct from each other and pop when put side-by-side; even Jurassic World used this trick and it’s about as unsubtle here as it was there.
During the first of many bits of on-screen narration from
Mickey, the audience is told point-blank that this is a melodrama. This becomes
more evident when we see how high-strung most of the main characters are,
letting their emotional instinct take the driver’s seat for the most part.
However, that’s not the problem. Melodrama can work really damn well if the
overblown emotions and events shown actually connect with the audience. The
acting may make that task difficult, but the writing flat-out makes it
impossible. Outside of Ginny, these aren’t actually characters: They’re
megaphones on legs, just roaring at each other throughout the film, and even
when things do go quiet, nothing meaningful gets channelled either.
It’s
ostensibly a love story between Ginny, Mickey and Carolina, with something about
the Mafia wanting Carolina dead and this weird subplot about Richie who keeps
setting fire to things. Those last two bits probably make the film sound a lot
more interesting than it is because not only are they barely elaborated on, but
the main drama that connects them? I see no reason to care about characters who
are either this flat or this atrociously unlikeable.
Which brings us to Ginny, her place in the story, and what
ultimately turns this from an annoying film into something truly heinous. Reading
through the synopsis above, and remembering that this is a film by Woody Allen,
I’m fairly certain that some of the details will sound… familiar. Add to that
how Mickey is characterised, being this artistic and poetic playwright who gets
fawned over by Carolina because he’s just so dreamy and good God, this guy
couldn’t be a bigger stand-in for Allen if he tried. Even down to directly
addressing the audience, a familiar trick in Allen’s earlier work. Now, that
comparison isn’t what bothers me. If this indeed is meant to be a dramatisation
of what happened between him, Mia Farrow and Soon-Yi Previn, I wouldn’t have an
issue with it. After all, taking inspiration from personal events can lead to
some damn good cinema; it’s one of the reasons why I like Kevin Smith as much
as I do. However, it’s how he presents that story that makes me cringe.
Ginny, to put it simply, is an awful person, characterised
as being about as callous, borderline-psychotic and just plain broken as a
person can get while staying in one piece. She is also depicted as being a
victim of domestic violence at the hands of Humpty, and it’s about here that
things start to go south. Way south. To the 9th circle. With how Mickey
keeps being fawned over by both Ginny and Carolina, Carolina’s non-existent character
beyond that (and being described as having “been around the block” in one of
many uncomfortable moments), and Ginny being portrayed as the biggest evil in
that triangle, it feels like Woody Allen is trying to give his own perspective
on what happened in his own way. There’s even a thinly-veiled reference to it,
with how Ginny accuses Humpty of an “unnatural attachment” to Carolina… which
is framed as her being jealous and petty.
I won’t claim to really have an
opinion regarding the allegations against Woody Allen. I haven’t read up nearly
enough on them and I don’t much care to. However, knowing the year we’ve had
regarding people trying to excuse their own behaviour, how easily one-to-one
allegories can be made with this story and
how specific parts of that allegory are framed, this reads like someone trying
desperately to give “their own take” on certain unsavoury accusations. And
trying to paint the other party as the real problem. Even removed from
everything else happening this year, I have no choice but see this perspective
as wrong on every conceivable level. When a film is giving me flashbacks to Jean-Claude
Brisseau’s The Exterminating Angels, a film where Brisseau tried to excuse
lecherous behaviour that landed him in jail after the release of his previous film, something
truly twisted is going on here.
All in all, I think I’m officially done with Woody Allen.
One of the bigger critiques I’ve seen from others regarding this film is that
it feels too much like his earlier work. If there’s any more of this in his filmography, I want
absolutely nothing to do with it. The visuals are far too kitschy and garish to
really gel with, the acting is embarrassing to see from these people who I
actually like quite a bit, the mood thinks that melodrama alone is enough to
make a film interesting, and the writing pretty much forces the audience to
compare it to Allen’s own life… and hearing his version of events will induce
frequent bouts of cringing in how wrong-headed it is. I never thought I’d be
doing this for a second time but I’m placing another embargo down: Any future
films that Woody Allen puts out, including A Rainy Day In New York which comes
out next year, I am going to completely avoid. I don’t want to put any more money
towards someone who has sunk this low,
and I’m certainly not keen to see anything else he’s done. I’m a bit taken
aback at how much I hate this thing, and I’m not going to condone others having
to witness it for themselves.
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