A director is forced to work with his ex-wife, who left him for the boss of the studio bankrolling his new film. But the night before the first day of shooting, he develops a case of psychosomatic blindness.
Suffering from writer's block and eagerly awaiting his writing award, Harry Block remembers events from his past and scenes from his best-selling books as characters, real and fictional, come back to haunt him.
Lee Simon, unsuccessful journalist and wanna-be novelist, tries to get a foot into the door with celebrities. After divorcing his wife Robin, Lee gets to meet a lot folks of the rich and / or beautiful, partly through journalism, partly because he has a script to offer. But life among those from out-of-this-world is hard, and his putative success always results in defeat. Meanwhile Robin meets a very desirable TV-producer and takes the first steps in the world of celebrities herself. Written by
Julian Reischl <firstname.lastname@example.org>
One of Woody Allen's worst films, a brilliant defense for anyone who considers Allen out-of-touch, self-indulgent, and irrelevant. A storyless mishmash of tired, unfunny gags, Woody has absolutely nothing to say and takes forever to say it (uncharacteristic for Allen, who's films have been the last bastion of auteur-brevity, the movie is a trying two hours-plus). Sure, the movie looks dynamite, and sure it's got a great cast trying its best, but can anyone honestly tell me that this movie's humor wasn't musty, it's narrative wasn't rambling, it's attempts at satire weren't annoyingly weak? A real disappointment, especially following last year's wonderfully vulgar, honest, and funny "Deconstructing Harry." This has to be the worst fall-winter film season in years.
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