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.
In the funeral of the famous British journalist Joe Strombel, his colleagues and friends recall how obstinate he was while seeking for a scoop. Meanwhile the deceased Joe discloses the identity of the tarot card serial killer of London. He cheats the Reaper and appears to the American student of journalism Sondra Pransky, who is on the stage in the middle of a magic show of the magician Sidney Waterman in London, and tells her that the murderer is the aristocrat Peter Lyman. Sondra drags Sid in her investigation, seeking for evidences that Peter is the killer. However, she falls in love with him and questions if Joe Strombel is right in his scoop. Written by
Claudio Carvalho, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
Sondra tells Peter Lyman that her father is having sensitivity in tooth "lower # 7." In the American tooth numbering system, number seven is always an upper tooth, specifically the upper right lateral incisor. In the British tooth numbering system, there is no tooth number seven. See more »
Don't mourn for Joe Stromble. Joe Stromble had a full life. A newspaper man in the best tradition. A great credit to the Fourth Estate. It didn't matter if the bombs of the war zone were falling, it didn't matter how high up the political scandal went, or how many big corporations or small time racketeers leaned on him. Whatever the risk, if there was a story there, Joe went after it. And he usually got it.
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I thought this was a wonderful way to spend time on a too hot summer weekend, sitting in the air conditioned theater and watching a light-hearted comedy. The plot is simplistic, but the dialogue is witty and the characters are likable (even the well bread suspected serial killer). While some may be disappointed when they realize this is not Match Point 2: Risk Addiction, I thought it was proof that Woody Allen is still fully in control of the style many of us have grown to love.
This was the most I'd laughed at one of Woody's comedies in years (dare I say a decade?). While I've never been impressed with Scarlet Johanson, in this she managed to tone down her "sexy" image and jumped right into a average, but spirited young woman.
This may not be the crown jewel of his career, but it was wittier than "Devil Wears Prada" and more interesting than "Superman" a great comedy to go see with friends.
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