Woody Allen is one of the most well-respected writers and directors in the last fifty years of American cinema, but not much is said of his acting. Well, not a lot great things, that is. He’s often criticized for “playing the same character” and not branching out. This is unfair. His mannerisms may be consistent, but his characters have varied throughout his work. Compare his earlier dramatic work in films such as Annie Hall to his darker turns in Deconstructing Harry and Husbands and Wives. His finest achievement in front of the camera came in 1979, in a film Allen himself was so dissatisfied with he never wanted it to see the light of day.
Manhattan revolves around the Allen character, Isaac Davis, a television writer whose relationship with a seventeen year-old girl becomes upended when he becomes involved with his best friend’s mistress. The film is filled to the brim with wonderful performances from Diane Keaton, Mariel Hemingway, Michael Murphy and Meryl Streep. Perhaps this is the reason Allen’s work in the film is overlooked. Perhaps, Allen purposely surrounds himself with immensely talented actors because he is unsure of himself onscreen. He should trust himself more often.
During the course of the film, Isaac Davis juggles questions of his life, love, and career, sometimes all at once in a single scene. Allen moves within these scenes with an almost lyrical grace that seems to come from inside a living, breathing character in the depths of a midlife crisis. Several times throughout the movie, instead of opting for a quick snappy one-liner that only Allen could write, he allows Isaac to speak through facial expressions that almost go unnoticed. Having seen the film countless times I find myself catching new moments in the film, often in Allen’s performance, that help the film continue to grow thirty years later. Such is the sign of a truly talented actor.
Best Scene: Countless scenes and small moments, but probably the strongest comes in the last few seconds of the film, thus **MAJOR SPOILERS**
Having been dumped by his best friend’s mistress and having dumped the seventeen year-old Tracy, Allen lies in his apartment recording ideas for his next novel. When he begins to list things that make his life worth living, he starts with simple pleasures like music and food. In the end, the only thing he can think of is “Tracy’s face.” Failing to reach her by phone or flag down a taxi, Isaac finds himself running across Manhattan to Tracy’s apartment where he finds her preparing to leave for London. After unsuccessfully trying to coax her into staying, she tells him “You have to have a little faith in people.” Allen’s only reply is a slight smile that sums up the entire film and Isaac’s journey through it.
Previous Favorite Performances Entries:
Jean Adair and Josephine Hull (Arsenic And Old Lace, 1944)
Choi Min-sik (Oldboy, 2003)
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