Knight at the Movies ARCHIVES
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The latest from Woody Allen and Michael Mann are inoffensive retreads of earlier films
Do you suppose Manhattan is pouting over Woody Allen’s new love affair with London? That certainly seems to be the case with
Allen's last two films, Match Point, and now, Scoop. But Manhattan is no doubt having the last laugh and chortling over the sloppy
seconds that are the products of Allen’s affair with Londontown. His two efforts in the fabled city across the pond are like Cliff Notes
versions of earlier, much sturdier works that drew as much of their vitality from the heat and pavement of New York City as from the
actors strolling about the concrete mousetrap. Though genteel London was a good fit for the class study that was Match Point, the low
grade Scoop sharply points out the missing energy of Allen’s signature Manhattan locations. And then there’s the problem of Allen’s
new muse.
Match Point, the over rated wisp of a thriller did have a very cagy performance by Jonathan Rhys-Meyers and an excellent supporting
cast. But it also had Scarlett Johansson, who, as each subsequent movie reveals, doesn’t have much depth or technique to draw
on. Trying to step into a role that would have been played by Diane Keaton or Mia Farrow in Scoop, Allen’s latest mix of murder and
comedy, Johansson is a comely blank woefully out of her element. And worse – her stunning beauty is downplayed as she straps on
the expected wire frames and spouts dialogue that references Katharine Hepburn and whines about having anxiety attacks. It’s so
familiar by now that you wonder why she and the previous actresses stuck playing this all too familiar part don’t form a club for
Female Woody Allen Impersonators. Saddest, of all of Allen’s female co-stars, Johansson is the weakest. And the by now clichéd
Allen zingers – which can still make you laugh out loud – seem to bounce right off Johansson. The delicious interplay so necessary
to making a Woody Allen picture work – even the bad ones – is M.I.A.
And Allen, playing the 90th variation on his typical anxious, patented character, merely seems to be an aged, tired version of the
character. There are intermittent laughs and the story is mildly diverting but one finally begs the question, why are actors still so
eager to work with Woody? What would make Johansson, who has a perfectly fine leading lady career going in big budget action
pictures, put on the wire frames and attempt the stock Allen mannerisms? Didn’t she watch Louise Lasser or Farrow do it over and
over again and learn nothing?
Apparently not. I’m making Johansson and Scoop sound much worse than is really fair. It’s really not half bad (though she is). It’s
just retread Woody and if you’ve a mind to see a fairly diverting comedy in which a young journalism student tries to get the goods
on a rich young, very sexy lord (played by Hugh Jackman), go right ahead. But if you’ve seen Manhattan Murder Mystery, Broadway
Danny Rose, Alice, or just about every other Allen picture with a murder thrown in (in other words, a lot), you may find this a tad
familiar. If you haven’t, by all means, take in a matinee. There are enough leftover Allen witty retorts (“My anxiety is like aerobics
– I never gain an ounce”) to provide an afternoon’s worth of enjoyment for the uninitiated. If the picture seems a bit sluggish there
are other compensations which the gaggle of young Johansson look-a-likes behind me noted as the movie ended. “It was kinda old
fashioned and sorta bla” one said at the movie’s conclusion, “But Hugh Jackman looks really good in a pair of designer jeans.” A cry
of agreement arose from the ladies as they headed to the powder room.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
“So will I like it?” my car dealer asked me after dropping off my car for its 15,000 mile check up the other day. He was referring to
the big screen version of Miami Vice. “Do you like action?” I asked. He said, “Yes.” “Well, it’s not exactly stuffed with Mission
Impossible kind of stunts but it does have baddie drug dealers and beautiful women mixed up in the drug business and, and, and…”
I was struggling to describe what differentiated the movie from the iconic 80s TV version that inspired it. “There’s no real banter
between Crockett and Tubbs,” I explained to my friend. “Oh,” he said, with a real sense of disappointment in his voice. “No, but
there is a lot of, well, it’s a pretty good guy movie,” I offered weakly. “Oh, okay,” he said. “Did you like To Live In Die In LA?” I
asked and he perked up, “Oh yeah!” “Well, it’s Michael Mann – the same director – and it has some of that feeling to it – just not
as intense.”
There wasn’t much else to say except who knew there was so much drug lingo and this – why did Michael Mann agree to do this
movie? It’s removed just far enough from the TV version to have possibilities (very little of it actually takes place in Miami and
Mann doesn’t bother to put the title on the screen until the credits and the famed theme music isn’t heard). Yet, there’s little of
Mann’s signature intense originality.
The picture, which features Colin Farrell and Jamie Foxx in the roles played on TV by Don Johnson and the stunningly handsome and
sexy Philip Michael Thomas, don’t have much of the interplay of their predecessors (as noted) though Farrell does sport the 5 o’clock
shadow, wears the Armani jackets and exudes cool while Foxx seems fine stepping into the second tier slot. The plot, the dialogue,
the night club scenes, the confrontations with the drug kingpin’s Mad Dog security man, the romance between Farrell and Gong Li –
all are standard issue and nothing more than blown up versions (thanks to a large budget and star wattage) of any cop show now on
network television – and if that’s your thing, enjoy. Or kind of enjoy – as I did.
*I'm on vacation this week from my WCT column but have returned in time to file a column at the website.
Allen's last two films, Match Point, and now, Scoop. But Manhattan is no doubt having the last laugh and chortling over the sloppy
seconds that are the products of Allen’s affair with Londontown. His two efforts in the fabled city across the pond are like Cliff Notes
versions of earlier, much sturdier works that drew as much of their vitality from the heat and pavement of New York City as from the
actors strolling about the concrete mousetrap. Though genteel London was a good fit for the class study that was Match Point, the low
grade Scoop sharply points out the missing energy of Allen’s signature Manhattan locations. And then there’s the problem of Allen’s
new muse.
Match Point, the over rated wisp of a thriller did have a very cagy performance by Jonathan Rhys-Meyers and an excellent supporting
cast. But it also had Scarlett Johansson, who, as each subsequent movie reveals, doesn’t have much depth or technique to draw
on. Trying to step into a role that would have been played by Diane Keaton or Mia Farrow in Scoop, Allen’s latest mix of murder and
comedy, Johansson is a comely blank woefully out of her element. And worse – her stunning beauty is downplayed as she straps on
the expected wire frames and spouts dialogue that references Katharine Hepburn and whines about having anxiety attacks. It’s so
familiar by now that you wonder why she and the previous actresses stuck playing this all too familiar part don’t form a club for
Female Woody Allen Impersonators. Saddest, of all of Allen’s female co-stars, Johansson is the weakest. And the by now clichéd
Allen zingers – which can still make you laugh out loud – seem to bounce right off Johansson. The delicious interplay so necessary
to making a Woody Allen picture work – even the bad ones – is M.I.A.
And Allen, playing the 90th variation on his typical anxious, patented character, merely seems to be an aged, tired version of the
character. There are intermittent laughs and the story is mildly diverting but one finally begs the question, why are actors still so
eager to work with Woody? What would make Johansson, who has a perfectly fine leading lady career going in big budget action
pictures, put on the wire frames and attempt the stock Allen mannerisms? Didn’t she watch Louise Lasser or Farrow do it over and
over again and learn nothing?
Apparently not. I’m making Johansson and Scoop sound much worse than is really fair. It’s really not half bad (though she is). It’s
just retread Woody and if you’ve a mind to see a fairly diverting comedy in which a young journalism student tries to get the goods
on a rich young, very sexy lord (played by Hugh Jackman), go right ahead. But if you’ve seen Manhattan Murder Mystery, Broadway
Danny Rose, Alice, or just about every other Allen picture with a murder thrown in (in other words, a lot), you may find this a tad
familiar. If you haven’t, by all means, take in a matinee. There are enough leftover Allen witty retorts (“My anxiety is like aerobics
– I never gain an ounce”) to provide an afternoon’s worth of enjoyment for the uninitiated. If the picture seems a bit sluggish there
are other compensations which the gaggle of young Johansson look-a-likes behind me noted as the movie ended. “It was kinda old
fashioned and sorta bla” one said at the movie’s conclusion, “But Hugh Jackman looks really good in a pair of designer jeans.” A cry
of agreement arose from the ladies as they headed to the powder room.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
“So will I like it?” my car dealer asked me after dropping off my car for its 15,000 mile check up the other day. He was referring to
the big screen version of Miami Vice. “Do you like action?” I asked. He said, “Yes.” “Well, it’s not exactly stuffed with Mission
Impossible kind of stunts but it does have baddie drug dealers and beautiful women mixed up in the drug business and, and, and…”
I was struggling to describe what differentiated the movie from the iconic 80s TV version that inspired it. “There’s no real banter
between Crockett and Tubbs,” I explained to my friend. “Oh,” he said, with a real sense of disappointment in his voice. “No, but
there is a lot of, well, it’s a pretty good guy movie,” I offered weakly. “Oh, okay,” he said. “Did you like To Live In Die In LA?” I
asked and he perked up, “Oh yeah!” “Well, it’s Michael Mann – the same director – and it has some of that feeling to it – just not
as intense.”
There wasn’t much else to say except who knew there was so much drug lingo and this – why did Michael Mann agree to do this
movie? It’s removed just far enough from the TV version to have possibilities (very little of it actually takes place in Miami and
Mann doesn’t bother to put the title on the screen until the credits and the famed theme music isn’t heard). Yet, there’s little of
Mann’s signature intense originality.
The picture, which features Colin Farrell and Jamie Foxx in the roles played on TV by Don Johnson and the stunningly handsome and
sexy Philip Michael Thomas, don’t have much of the interplay of their predecessors (as noted) though Farrell does sport the 5 o’clock
shadow, wears the Armani jackets and exudes cool while Foxx seems fine stepping into the second tier slot. The plot, the dialogue,
the night club scenes, the confrontations with the drug kingpin’s Mad Dog security man, the romance between Farrell and Gong Li –
all are standard issue and nothing more than blown up versions (thanks to a large budget and star wattage) of any cop show now on
network television – and if that’s your thing, enjoy. Or kind of enjoy – as I did.
*I'm on vacation this week from my WCT column but have returned in time to file a column at the website.
Ho-Hum:
Scoop-Miami Vice
7-28-06 Knight at the Movies Column*
By Richard Knight, Jr.
Scoop-Miami Vice
7-28-06 Knight at the Movies Column*
By Richard Knight, Jr.
