I suffer with Woody Allen fatigue right along with so many others now, but must say I am probably more surprised than I should be to find out how many people don't like him or his work at all and never did. He was easily my favorite filmmaker for quite some time. Guilty pleasure or otherwise, I looked forward to every new release, unfailingly attended the week they opened, and absorbed them like a sponge. I used the scandal attending his breakup with Mia Farrow and hookup with Soon-Yi in the early '90s as my excuse to officially check out, even though one of my favorites among his more obscure titles came shortly after. I have probably seen only half of his output over the past 15 or 20 years, but on a list like this, if I'm going to be honest, he deserves a lot more from me than just one or two mentions. The least I can do is throw up a top 5...
5. Another Woman (1988)
I already picked this for my #47 for this list, and I know, I know, I know: "out there," "misguided," and not one of his comedies. I admit I am mystified by similar exercises of his from around the same time, notably Crimes and Misdemeanors (which has evidently been settled on by many as one of his best; I guess I need to see again) and Husbands and Wives. But I loved this from the first I saw it and spent a period utterly in thrall to it with a VHS tape from the library.
4. Love and Death (1975)
This is my favorite of the pure comedies. I'm not sure how much the chemistry is acknowledged between Woody Allen and Diane Keaton, in terms strictly of their comic work, let alone just how good Keaton is. It really came clear for me in 1993's Manhattan Murder Mystery, where she stepped in to take the role Mia Farrow abandoned. It was one of Woody Allen's best comedies in ages, his last truly good one as far as I can tell (please don't talk to me about Bullets Over Broadway), and Diane Keaton is the reason why. But Love and Death is where they shine most in terms of comedy. Her little throwaway in the clip at the link below is a great example of what she's capable of all through this, and more generally of how well they work together.
Love and Death: "No, you must be Don Francisco's sister." [video deleted]
3. Hannah and Her Sisters (1986)
This just has so much going for it: Photographer Carlo di Palma's first film with Allen is bursting with warm hues and a fresh eye for New York. Allen's screenplay is ham-handedly beholden once again to Russian literature but still full of ingenious rhythms and tempos, and built in a refreshingly sharp way around the Thanksgiving holiday, the end of autumn and coming of winter. It's full of small moments where the harm people do and the good they mean at once are laid bare. The cast, with Mia Farrow, Barbara Hershey, and Dianne Wiest, plus Michael Caine, Max von Sydow, and others, is first-rate. But as a sentimentalist, what I like most is the unashamedly improbable (and vaguely ridiculous) happy ending.
Hannah and Her Sisters: "...nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands."
2. Manhattan (1979)
For a long time the mnemonic I used to remember the short list of my favorite movies is that they all had specific place names: Casablanca, Nashville, and Manhattan. This deserves to be ranked with Woody Allen's best for all the usual reasons: it's funny, complex, and deeply human. It draws on great talent, such as photographer Gordon Willis and de facto soundtrack composer George Gershwin, and the script that provides its foundation skillfully juggles balls while riding a unicycle on a greased tightrope. Unfortunately it became a casualty of the early-'90s scandal for me as I have never been entirely at ease with the Mariel Hemingway plot thread since. I still like Manhattan, and for its technical points it's hard to overrate, but I wince more than I like to when I watch it now.
Manhattan: "New York was his town, and it always would be."
1. Annie Hall (1977)
Which leaves the obvious choice for best, bearing in mind that sometimes the obvious choice is also the obviously right choice. This commercial and career breakthrough picture for Woody Allen pulls together a lot of the threads that make everything else work, most notably Diane Keaton (nee Diane Hall). It's autobiographical within an inch of its life, but never feels cloying or confessional. It's a romantic comedy like few romantic comedies in that it manages to be both very funny and very romantic. It doesn't have anything like a traditionally happy ending, but it manages to leave nearly everyone tremendously happy.
It's also a tour de force of storytelling technique, verging close to showoffy about it but never crossing that line. It tramples down the fourth wall constantly, introduces present-day players into flashbacks, hops and skips across time, and always, always maintains the objects of its adoration (Woody Allen's ego along with his girlfriend) at the very center. It's lovely and thrilling, and utterly absorbing from its first moment.
For me, for better or worse, there are just great gobs of my own personality in it, things I have been saying and jokes I have been making ever since, to the point that I have forgotten this is where they came from until I see it again: "We can walk to the curb from here." ... "Did it achieve total heaviosity?" ... "Well, that's funny, because I happen to have Mr. McLuhan right here." ... "I'm due back on the planet Earth now." And many more. I thought I had used this up at one point and left it alone for many years. It was a treat to find it again when I finally made my way back, holding up absolutely better than ever.
Annie Hall: "The food at this place is really terrible."
Phil #5: All the President's Men (Alan J. Pakula, 1976) (scroll down)
Steven #5: The Third Man (Carol Reed, 1949)
Woody Allen was relatively late arriving in my top 5. The original plan was Another Woman low as a surprise endorsement pick (#47) and then probably Annie Hall high, around #8 as I recall, with The Passion of Joan of Arc at #5 for effect, much as Mulholland Dr. was high for effect. But those plans were upset in the warp and woof of things and that was fine. Steven picked Joan of Arc and wrote about it, so it was in. I like it a lot—it's still pretty high on my current list, at #13. Putting Annie Hall at #5 enabled me to pull off this senseless little mini-countdown stunt, and two Woody Allen picks gave me two chances to complain about Woody Allen fatigue and wonder aloud about how much I luurve him, you know, luff him, two F's, an important injection into this countdown. But then so, for example, are All the President's Men (surprisingly high) and The Third Man (not so surprisingly high), both of them excellent pictures as well. Yeah, we're into the good stuff now. Well, we always have been.
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