Annie Hall (1977)

Director: Woody Allen                                    Writer: Woody Allen, Marshall Brickman
Music Department: Artie Butler                       Cinematography: Gordon Willis
Starring: Woody Allen, Diane Keaton, Carol Kane and Tony Roberts

Now this is more like it. Not only an A List entry, but an academy award winner for best picture. Given that, Annie Hall is obviously a great film. I have to confess, however, that I’m probably one of five people in the country who hadn’t seen the film until recently. As a result, there is more than a little pop culture shock I experienced in seeing it over thirty years since its original release. Everything from the film, it seems, has been recycled through the years in some way.

To begin with, there is Woody Allen’s stand up monologue at the beginning, which was co-opted by Seinfeld. Then there is the fact that the scenes are shown out of sequence; not a new idea but one that was really popularized later by Quentin Tarantino, most famously in Pulp Fiction. Diane Keaton’s distinctive wardrobe was also put on Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally over a decade later. Then there are lines like “those who can't, teach; those who can’t teach, teach gym” which was used verbatim in School of Rock. And finally, even conceptual elements have been stolen, like the lobster scene in which Allen attempts to repeat the magic with a later date, only to have it flop. This idea was also used to good effect in the snowman scene in Groundhog Day, and less so in The Curious Case of Benjamin Button.

So, all of that was a bit distracting to wade through the first time. What remained was a very good romantic comedy, though not one that we’re typically used to since Sleepless in Seattle. For one thing, the film doesn’t end with the consummation of the relationship, but traces it full circle, from first meeting to reconnection after a bad break-up. Allen’s self-deprecating humor is prominent, of course. The quirky charm of Diane Keaton must have been captivating before it became a cliché. Supporting roles by actors like Tony Roberts who would work for Allen as something of a stock company, and goofy cameos by the likes of Carol Kane, Shelley Duvall, and Paul Simon were put to good use. But finally it’s Allen’s style as a filmmaker that is showcased here, and in that the film is decidedly a success on nearly every level.

In his review of the picture for The A List, Jay Carr focuses on Allen’s envelope pushing in all sorts of areas, from the out of sequence narrative to the first person narration, to Keaton’s wardrobe and the fun-house mirroring of Allen’s life—-all things, ironically, that have made their way in the last thirty years comfortably back into the envelope, absorbed with seeming ease into the culture at large. And that, in the final analysis, is the ultimate praise for any true masterpiece, a label that, in the case of Annie Hall, certainly fits.