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
This is loosely based on Woody Allen's experiences of being a young comedy writer, he married young, and met an older man who taught him a lot about life, comedy, philosophy, and was institutionalized. 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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Ok, the man is an establishment. That's what keeps this movie from being vague, shallow and void. Woody Allen can claim for himself his kind of movies, and nobody else does them like he does. So, when you see a Woody Allen movie, you know precisely what you are going to get, the difference being sometimes more surprised, and sometimes less. Well, here there's no surprise, except the way that Allen seeks new talent and awards them with the typical alter ego role. It's up to them to prove that they can handle it. Kenneth Branagh did it, John Cusack did it, and now Jason Biggs is the nervous new yorker who goes to psycho analysis. Well, it works, but the truth is that Biggs' character behaves like a 35-year-old trapped in a 21-year-old body. And the fact that some of the movie doesn't make much sense, you can never forget that this is the realm of Woody Allen, and even if it doesn't make sense, it's always funny and you'll always laugh. Everybody remembers the plotless "Everybody Says I Love You" but no one cared for the plot. It was entertaining. Same here. Sometimes I'd wish that Woody Allen tried a little harder to make movies with a thicker plot - remember "Bullets Over Broadway". But anyway, this movie is a permanent joy to watch, thanks to the great actors, great comedy (even with a non-existent story) and a great photography from Darius Khondji.
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