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.
Friendless Peter Klaven goes on a series of man-dates to find a Best Man for his wedding. But when his insta-bond with his new B.F.F. puts a strain on his relationship with his fiancée, can the trio learn to live happily ever after?
In medias res: narrator Jerry Falk, a fledgling comedy writer with an inept agent, is about to celebrate an anniversary with his girlfriend Amanda. There's trouble in paradise: she's late (and has already eaten), she's been uninterested in sex for months, and her quixotic mother is moving in with them. Jerry looks back to meeting Amanda and dumping Brooke. A constant is his friendship with another wannabe comedy writer, a 60 year old teacher named David, prone to long walks and advice filled talks. As Amanda and Jerry's relationship founders and her mom's noisy presence makes writing difficult for him, he and David plan something different. Wouldn't anything else be better? Written by
Carlo Di Palma, Allen's former cinematographer, came out of retirement to work with Allen on this film. Di Palma had to take a physical exam so the studio could determine if he was an insurance risk. But Di Palma failed the physical and the studio could not insure him. He died two years later. See more »
When Falk types on his laptop computer, the number of (enlarged) typed lines alternates between at least five or six in close-up and just two or three at a distance. See more »
You know, there's great wisdom in jokes, Falk, really. There's an old joke about a prizefighter who's in the ring, and he's getting killed, he's getting his brains beat out; and his mother's in the audience, and she's watching him getting beaten up in the ring, and there's a priest next to her, and she says 'Father, father, pray for him, pray for him!' The priest says 'I will pray for him, but if he could punch it would help!' There's more insight in that joke, into what I call the...
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The predictability of the reviews on this database is hilarious. Every Woody Allen film gets...'it's not as good as Annie Hall'. Over and over and over again. As though Woody Allen has committed a heinous crime in making a supposedly lesser film. Just as every Martin Scorsese film gets a run of 'It's not Raging Bull or Goodfellas'. Over and over and over again. I think that sometimes people sit down intent on wallowing in gloom, specifically to compare a film negatively with a director or actor's previous works. Probably the sort of irritating people who go back to the same place on holiday every year and complain that it was cheaper last year, much more fun and friendly and the place has become too commercialised.
Quite frankly I don't care if Anything Else is as good as Annie Hall. I loved it. From start to finish I laughed out loud at the fantastic dialogue, and unlike others I thought the acting was superb. Having heard next to nothing about it on release, this was one of the most unexpectedly funny, heart warming and intelligent films I have seen for some time.
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