I just re-watched this movie recently. I loved it in college, and thought Woody was a genius. The dialogue and story are still great, the cinematography is beautiful, and New York City shines as a majestic, romantic city. Woody's depiction of the neurotic intellectual elite crowd in Manhattan is entertaining and hilarious.
But today I see something sinister here that I didn't twenty years ago. Maybe it has to do with the whole twisted Soon Yi-Mia business that happened in the subsequent years. Maybe it's because now that I'm the age of Ike Davis, I realize how screwed up it is for a guy in his forties to be dating a high school student. Maybe now that I have daughters of my own, I know I'd never want them to get involved with a 42 year-old guy when they were still wearing braces.
Strip away the learned banter about Kafka and Bergman, the great black and white shots of the city, the wry, pithy remarks from Ike, and this movie essentially glorifies and presents as healthy what is legally considered statutory rape. If you want to be really blunt about it, you might say that this movie is a pedophile's fantasy.
Ike Davis's manipulation and mistreatment of Tracy is ultimately treated as not such a bad thing. Tracy, the pure, sweet, yet sexually wild nymphet (talk about the pedophile's fantasy!) accepts it all, and remains loyal to her 42 year-old man. Ike's constant complaints to his friends about how he realizes Tracy is too young and how he has to get out of the relationship are supposed to show that he's not some predatory sicko but a normal guy who shares the audience's moral perspective.
Yet he ultimately discards any concerns he has about the propriety of his relationship with Tracy. He concludes that his relationship with Tracy is the best one he's ever had with a "woman" and wants her to cancel her 6-month trip to London so she can get back together with him. She tells Ike that had he come to her a week earlier, she might have considered it. But not to worry, says Tracy: "What's six months if we both love each other?". Despite Ike having cheated on her, dumped her, and repeatedly told her that he's unwilling to commit to her, Tracy still regards him as her true love.
So again, it's the pedophile's fantasy: this isn't an abusive, inappropriate relationship--it's true love! Ike's mistreatment of Tracy and taking advantage of her childlike naïveté is not morally wrong--see, she still loves him and wants more! The best partner for a 42 year-old accomplished intellectual man is not an accomplished intellectual woman the same age like Diane Keaton's character--no, it's a girl in high school!
I read an article in the NY Times recently about how, given the increased awareness of sexual abuse of children that has emerged since 1979, a movie like Manhattan could never get made today. That's probably not such a bad thing. Back in the 80s, I read a glowing review of Manhattan that talked about Ike Davis's smile in the final scene when Tracy tells him he has to have a little more faith in people. That smile was so profound, said the reviewer, the perfect expression of the complex emotions in the lives of these elite intellectual New Yorkers. I agreed with the reviewer 20 years ago. But when I re-watched the movie the other day, all I could think was that if it was my daughter this guy was preying on, if I saw that smile I'd want to punch him in the face.
But today I see something sinister here that I didn't twenty years ago. Maybe it has to do with the whole twisted Soon Yi-Mia business that happened in the subsequent years. Maybe it's because now that I'm the age of Ike Davis, I realize how screwed up it is for a guy in his forties to be dating a high school student. Maybe now that I have daughters of my own, I know I'd never want them to get involved with a 42 year-old guy when they were still wearing braces.
Strip away the learned banter about Kafka and Bergman, the great black and white shots of the city, the wry, pithy remarks from Ike, and this movie essentially glorifies and presents as healthy what is legally considered statutory rape. If you want to be really blunt about it, you might say that this movie is a pedophile's fantasy.
Ike Davis's manipulation and mistreatment of Tracy is ultimately treated as not such a bad thing. Tracy, the pure, sweet, yet sexually wild nymphet (talk about the pedophile's fantasy!) accepts it all, and remains loyal to her 42 year-old man. Ike's constant complaints to his friends about how he realizes Tracy is too young and how he has to get out of the relationship are supposed to show that he's not some predatory sicko but a normal guy who shares the audience's moral perspective.
Yet he ultimately discards any concerns he has about the propriety of his relationship with Tracy. He concludes that his relationship with Tracy is the best one he's ever had with a "woman" and wants her to cancel her 6-month trip to London so she can get back together with him. She tells Ike that had he come to her a week earlier, she might have considered it. But not to worry, says Tracy: "What's six months if we both love each other?". Despite Ike having cheated on her, dumped her, and repeatedly told her that he's unwilling to commit to her, Tracy still regards him as her true love.
So again, it's the pedophile's fantasy: this isn't an abusive, inappropriate relationship--it's true love! Ike's mistreatment of Tracy and taking advantage of her childlike naïveté is not morally wrong--see, she still loves him and wants more! The best partner for a 42 year-old accomplished intellectual man is not an accomplished intellectual woman the same age like Diane Keaton's character--no, it's a girl in high school!
I read an article in the NY Times recently about how, given the increased awareness of sexual abuse of children that has emerged since 1979, a movie like Manhattan could never get made today. That's probably not such a bad thing. Back in the 80s, I read a glowing review of Manhattan that talked about Ike Davis's smile in the final scene when Tracy tells him he has to have a little more faith in people. That smile was so profound, said the reviewer, the perfect expression of the complex emotions in the lives of these elite intellectual New Yorkers. I agreed with the reviewer 20 years ago. But when I re-watched the movie the other day, all I could think was that if it was my daughter this guy was preying on, if I saw that smile I'd want to punch him in the face.
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