Whatever Works

Written and directed by Woody Allen

Given the weak word of mouth and reviews attributed to this, Woody Allen’s fortieth feature film as a director, I was pleasantly surprised to find it engaging, funny and even, to some degree, thought-provoking. A mixed-bag offering based on a script Allen originally wrote in the mid-1970’s, Whatever Works often feels dated in its sexual politics and unconvincing in its themes but is full of laugh out-loud one-liners and features excellent work from Evan Rachel Wood (The Wrestler, Across the Universe) and enjoyable appearances from an impressive cast, including writer/director Adam Brooks (Definitely, Maybe) in a small role.

Wood plays Melodie, a naïve, simplistic girl from the Deep South who runs away to New York and is taken in by Larry David’s acerbic Boris Yellnikoff, who does indeed seem to be yelling even when speaking softly. David plays an even more negative personality here than in his HBO show, Curb Your Enthusiasm, where, generally, his character at least means well. In Whatever Works, Boris is so self-centered and judgmental, finding everyone around him lacking in some respect, including the children he teaches chess to, that he’s more repellent than likable. Yet, with his lanky frame, bald crown, and frowning countenance broken often by an impish grin, David is undeniably fun to watch and holds the big screen surprisingly well. A very sour clown indeed, though, who spews such demeaning remarks at Melodie from their first encounter that it is hard to believe she would stick around, never mind falling in love with him. As well, hard to believe that Boris (exhibiting OCD when he has to sing “Happy Birthday” to himself twice every time he washes his hands) would allow this stranger into his home in the first place, especially since he exhibits no sexual interest in Melodie when they meet. Of course, an attraction by a young impressionable woman to an older “wiser” man is a standard Woody Allen theme, but that older man needs to be an enjoyable presence to be with, for the girl if not the audience, for it to be believable.

The story revolves around Boris who, after an unsuccessful attempt at suicide and ending his marriage to his apparently perfect match, moves to a spacious if dumpy apartment on the Lower East Side of Manhattan in an attempt to reconnect with his roots. One night he comes across Melodie, a hungry runaway crouching in the shadows, and he takes her in, eventually becoming involved with Melodie’s wacky family who come chasing after her (ostensibly) but who ultimately (of course) find their true selves in the Big Apple. Much of this is quite humorous, including Boris’s occasional monologues directed at the camera/audience, sharply written mini-diatribes reminiscent of Allen’s earlier work (Love and Death, Annie Hall, Hannah and Her Sisters). Unfortunately, Patricia Clarkson, normally flawless (Pieces of April, The Station Agent, Vicky Cristina Barcelona) is unconvincing in her role as Melodie’s mother who arrives in New York more than ready to burst out of her housewife role and into the life of an artist living and sleeping with two men, as is Ed Begley, Jr. as Melodie’s repressed homosexual father who comes knocking on his own closet door.

It’s not that the performances of these seasoned actors are weak; rather, it’s the material, which simply shows its age vis-à-vis its sexual politics. If Allen had made this film closer to the time it was conceived, and with himself in the role of Boris, he might have made a classic Woody Allen film to rank with Annie Hall and Manhattan. Instead, saved by some great one-liners and a terrific supporting cast, including the as usual under-utilized but always welcome Jessica Hecht, and with his typically well-placed camera, Allen has given us a so-so Woody Allen film. But, like a not-great Bob Dylan album still has enough depth to tower above most of his contemporaries' work, a so-so Woody Allen film has enough humor and insight to make it well-worth seeing in a theater, certainly for fans of the work, and the Manhattan, of Woody Allen.

3 out of 5 stars.

Review by Mike Fishman.

As a side note, this viewer took a short excursion to see this film at the Jacob Burns Film Center in Pleasantville and highly recommends hopping a train (45 minutes out of Grand Central) to attend this outstanding movie theater. Excellent screens, fine sightlines, a friendly staff, great snack items (including brownies from a local bakery) and an impressive line-up of current features, documentaries and wonderfully-curated series such as the upcoming International Noir series that includes several must-see classics, should make this a destination movie-house for discerning city dwellers/film fans seeking more quality viewing for their buck and an excuse to get out of the city. Two block walk to the cinema from the train station and a Starbucks you can hit before hand with over-sized comfy chairs. What more can you ask for? Visit the Jacob Burns Film Center website.