Of all the directors who’ve fallen in love with places and cities, Woody Allen’s love for New York possibly the most true. While he has slept about here and there (Paris, Rome, Barcelona, London…), it’s the crisp black and white shots of Manhattan that make it clear who he comes back home to. And it’s downright infectious. Honestly, at the end of the film Woody leaves you convinced that it’s the greatest city on the planet.
I loved Manhattan. It’s a stunningly shot film and Woody Allen at his funniest and most honest. And somehow manages to make a relationship between Woody Allen and at 17 year old not creepy. I’m sorry, that’s a lie on my part. I am curious how this film would play out now post-Girls accusations of “whitewashing” NYC and where relationships with underage girls don’t really play out in art galleries. Despite all of these issues, the film feels so fresh and fun. While I’m a sucker for a romantic comedy, I’ll groan but at the end of the day will happily sit through most of them, it’s still striking how well everything works in Manhattan.
And, if you didn’t tear up during the breakup scene, you’re heartless. Or maybe a stronger person than I am. I don’t know.
It’s summer. Or, almost summer. I hope this post will serve as some inspiration for the coming sweltering months ahead and that it’s scored to this.
