BBD Comments:
‘Crimes and Misdemeanors’ is quite possibly Woody Allen’s masterpiece. There is something so complete and intricate about this film that sets it just above the rest of his impressive body of work. We have all of the familiar Allen techniques, the intertwining story lines, the presence of cinema within the lives of the characters, the simple and elegant opening titles, the accomplished ensemble, and the irrepressible, singular wit. But with ‘Crimes’ Allen gives us something more, he crafts two stories of equal strength that follow the separate rules of two very different forms: The tragedy of Judah, and the comedy of Cliff. These parallel journeys bring unexpected meaning to the arrogant stolen observation of Alan Alda’s masterful Lester: “If it bends, it’s funny. If it breaks, it isn’t.”
When the two forms unite with Cliff and Judah sitting at a piano away from the cacophonous wedding (the obligatory setting for the end of an Aristotelian comedy), it is here that Allen rewards the critical viewer. The comedic character, Cliff, upon hearing Judah’s autobiographical murder story tells him that for the story to end well, the murderer needs to turn himself in. “Then,” Cliff explains, “you’ll have a tragic story.” Here he unites the two story lines and their protagonists in an explicitly formal way (right down to their tuxedos). Allen, the writer/director, takes it one step further, when the tragic character, Judah, tells Cliff that if he wants a happy ending he should go see a Hollywood movie. Allen crafts a film that swings like a pendulum between the rules of tragedy and comedy. Should a film about infidelity and cold blooded murder be funny? Of course not, but by deftly choosing striking elements from two disparate techniques, Allen creates a complex parallel of forms that bends tragedy to comedy before he breaks both forms apart.
I don’t mean to write a thesis about the formal rules of storytelling, but I believe the overall success of ‘Crimes and Misdemeanors’ lies in its deliberate use of parallels and its formal precision. Most obvious of these formalities is the juxtaposition of Judah, an ophthalmologist who fears the eyes of God seeking moral guidance from his patient, Ben. Ben is a rabbi who is losing his sight and seeks help from Judah. Tragically neither man can use their expertise to save the other from their fate. More subtly, Judah’s tragic story begins when he burns a love letter whereas Cliff’s comedic story ends when his love letter is returned. The film is replete with these formal parallels, and they are not the empty posturing of a self-important auteur, rather the cunning method Allen employs to make this film echo, as it does, with the weight and varied consequence of human choice.
Allen’s multiple arcs layer the film with myriad examinations of truth and consequence. Place a personal ad and you might get tied to the bed and pooped on, talk seriously about a crime and you might end up committing it, make an honest, if outrageous, biographical film and you might get fired. Amplifying his theme of choice, Allen deprives the film of a singular moral compass, and instead gives us two. God or truth, you decide. These parallel stories harmonize because Allen doesn’t champion one side over the other. Choose God and you’ll still go blind. Choose truth, and you may jump out a window.
In Nubs’ preamble he suggested that this film was less ambiguous than ‘Straw Dogs,’ and while I won’t labor at comparing such disparate films, I think Nubby is wrong. In writing this review it occurs to me that while Allen creates a more cohesive narrative than Peckinpah, the films are equally ambiguous in terms of consequence. Cliff is locked in a loveless marriage, and though his attempted infidelity releases him from this unhappiness it leaves him alone. Judah’s ego is destroying a picturesque life, and a very real murder saves him, it would seem, from total collapse. There is nothing definite about the fates of these characters, and virtue goes unnoticed as murder goes unpunished. Allen, in the end, turns the rules of tragedy and comedy inside out, and we are left confounded without the tidiness of either form. Cliff has become the tragic figure, alone on a piano bench tragically dejected, while Judah kisses his wife and talks happily of plans for their daughter’s marriage, again the requisite end for a true comedy. ‘Crimes and Misdemeanors’ is such a complex web that I find myself lingering over every choice in the film. Much like ‘Straw Dogs,’ its moral ambiguity haunts me.
Martin Landau is near perfection as Judah, and though such an overwrought character might give some actors license to descend into a malaise of introspection, Landau for the most part avoids such pitfalls. Anjelica Huston faces similar challenges playing the ill fated Dolores, but she too delivers a complex and saddening figure with a performance that never stoops to general stridency. Farrow, Waterston, Orbach, and Allen are all perfectly pitched as well, and the ensemble’s skill keeps Allen’s many formal constructs from overpowering the humanity of the piece. One actor though, steals the proverbial show, and that is Alan Alda. His Lester, so easily a simple caricature, is a deep and significant demonstration of the actor’s craft. He is always listening, always engaged, and we can root for him despite his shortcomings because he is so human. I don’t know where this fine actor has ever been better.
One of the greatest joys watching this film with the Crew was the simple magic of Movienight. I have seen most of Woody Allen’s films on a TV set alone or with one or two people, and that setting deprives the viewer of the broad dynamics of his storytelling. The humor is so explosive when there is a group sharing the film, and I never realized how wide the swing between tragedy and comedy in ‘Crimes and Misdemeanors.’ Once again Nubs’ has introduced a great director to our Canon, and he chose the perfect film with which to do it. His choices continue to bend Movienight into new directions; I trust that streak won’t break.
Coolbaugh Comments:
I know it’s hard to believe, but I’ve NEVER seen a Woody Allen movie. I think I was always numb to him based on his infatuation with old ladies and little girls. Something weird there. But what a way to pop my cherry. Not that ‘Crimes and Misdemeanors’ did anything to squelch my perception that Woody Allen is a pedophile – his odd relationship with his niece who happens to exhibit all the qualities of the perfect woman, albeit 10 years too soon, did more to confirm my suspicions. That said, I found this film to be so well thought out and artfully constructed, that I can’t wait to see more of his work. Woody Allen delicately creates this house of cards that feels like an awfully bad dream rather than cold, harsh reality. You can’t help but wonder, “what would you do if this was you?” There is so much to talk about with regards to this film, that I’ll choose the one thing I found to be so unique and cool…his use of film clips to tell a story.
The film is constantly interrupted with odd little film clips. You quickly come to realize that these are very carefully selected and utilized so as to convey the essence of the film. The movie is swirling around with a collection of characters and plots, and I racked my brain trying to figure out how they’re all going to come together. Little clips from here and there start to build a bridge. All the while we’re teased with Allen’s inability to “finish a film.” Great concepts, bad endings. Isn’t that always the case? The idea is the easy part. But, the stories and characters slowly begin to merge as we reach the ultimate climax: Martin Landau and Woody Allen sharing a brief and quiet, but all-to-important moment in a bar. Following the revelation, when Martin Landau leaves the scene with his wife, we think the film is over. But Allen drives the nail into us all by utilizing clips of the very film we just watched to put it all together. Unnecessary? Possibly, but very cool, at least in my humble opinion…especially given the methodology for story-telling he embraced. To me, there is nothing wrong with recapping what you just said, whether it’s a presentation, speech or film, in this case. I liked it. Mia Farrow – I never saw her in her hey day, and this film is a few years after that, but she’s fantastic…and hot. I could see where a 25 year old Mia Farrow would knock ‘em dead. Her character was a bit unrealistic, but that’s what you’re going to get when Woody Allen plays one half of a love interest in film. Nobody would fall for him, would they?
Allen seems to be the proud owner of a twisted mind. But hell if that don’t make for great film. We debated later that Allen is revealing that he’s actually murdered somebody. I tend to disagree…but I wouldn’t doubt that he’s seriously considered it. How else could you tap into such honest and real emotions? Martin Landau – now there’s somebody who you could argue has killed somebody (I mean that as the ultimate compliment, Mr. Landau). What a spectacular display of walking an emotional tightrope. I honestly felt every ounce of his pain, anguish and helplessness. He was simply so vulnerable. Jerry Orbach comes along as Jack, his wise guy brother, and seems to have the answer to his prayers, although he’s afraid to admit it. As Jack said, “What choice do you have?” Wow. Cool blooded.
Anyway – I really enjoyed this movie, and hope Woody makes it back to the stucco. Thank you Nubs for another great selection.
Wiener Comments:
After his vocal critique of ‘Straw Dogs,’ I think Nubs wanted to make the point that a film can be morally provocative without being offensive and repellent. He succeeded with his choice of ‘Crimes and Misdemeanors,’ a film that was way more resonant for me with this viewing than it was last time I saw it, probably a decade ago. With a wonderful script and terrific performances from a great ensemble, ‘Crimes and Misdemeanors’ was one of Movienight’s strongest offerings to date. It was also a welcome break from the 70s cinema of alienation that’s come to dominate our schedule somehow.
In the film, you can’t take anyone at face value. We open with Martin Landau being lauded for his generosity only to have him revealed as a philanderer and financial cheat. Mia Farrow is a profound and soulful aspiring filmmaker until she contents herself as a sleazy producer’s arm candy. And our inspiring professor with the life affirming wisdom gleaned from surviving the holocaust, with the confident, almost bemused delivery, is suffering to the point of suicide inside. We all carry secrets, and we’re all tainted by the possibility of what we might do under the right (or wrong) set of circumstances.
The film plays with form in some interesting ways, bringing the two disparate narratives together and making thematic juxtapositions through them. The central moral theme, however, is driven by the contrast in world view between Jerry Orbach as Landau’s mob connected brother and Sam Waterston as a rabbi with failing vision. The rabbi believes in a good, hopeful world where the power of God to heal all is limitless. Orbach knows that life isn’t Hollywood endings and suburban coffee klatches. We see Landau buffeted between faith and pragmatism. At first he feels guilty about rejecting the morality of his childhood, but in a brilliant flashback, he realizes that the morality was never really there, or at least not universal.
‘Crimes and Misdemeanors’ defies expectations in one interesting way. There’s no suspense. The cops never get close. No one sees Martin Landau in Dolores’s apartment. When the cop comes to see Landau in his office, we expect a shoe to drop. Landau missed something: a diary, a monogrammed shirt, something. He can’t get away with what he did. But he can. Martin Landau won’t be caught. He won’t confess. And we’re not even sure if he’s learned his lesson about cheating. The rabbi’s eyes have failed. And it seems, so have God’s.
There are a few flaws in this fine film. Mia Farrow’s engagement to Alan Alda is as unbelievable as it is unavoidable. Had Alan Alda shown a little more restraint in his characterization of a Hollywood asshole, than maybe we’d concede him a likeable side. But the film spends too much time portraying him as a self-absorbed, arrogant, insincere philanderer for him to realistically become a suitable mate for the virtuous Mia Farrow. Maybe his ability to quote Emily Dickinson is supposed to hint at his depth, but it’s too little too late. Maybe Woody’s trying to make a different point altogether: no matter how much they pretend otherwise, all chicks will spread for rich Hollywood dudes.
I recognize that this film is over 15 years old, but Martin Landau smoking in his office stretched credibility. Doctors don’t smoke. And they don’t smoke in their offices. This was clearly a conscious choice, and maybe it’s supposed to reveal something about Landau’s character. But every time he lit up, it was so incongruous with the identity of an upper middle class doctor that it took me out of the movie. It’s a small thing. But it struck me nonetheless.
Overall, however, it was a wonderful film, and one that I’m still thinking about a week after the screening. Although it never came up in our post-film discussion, ‘Crimes and Misdemeanors’ begs the question, what would you do if you were in Martin Landau’s situation? I have a pretty good idea. But I’m not telling.
SELECTOR Comments:
Up until I entered the Back Yard last night, I had never been so confident about a selection as I was with ‘Crimes and Misdemeanors.’ After Coolbaugh laid down a very heavy bass line the week before with ‘Straw Dogs,’ I was unsure where to take the jam session that is Movienight. My first instinct was to deny his lead and play the group toward some happy, light comedy. The more and more that his movie’s eerie tones lingered in my head, I came to ponder the problems I had had with it. It wasn’t the misogyny, the intensity, or the disturbing pace of ‘Straw Dogs’ that got to me. It was the fact that the issues were just thrown up on the wall and we were never offered the solace of a definitive point. This is where ‘Crimes and Misdemeanors’ entered my head as the perfect follow up. All week I was so confident about the ace up my sleeve. It wasn’t until I entered the Back Yard to find a full audience, a ‘Saving Private Ryan’ opening band, and then the first act of my movie rolled on at a quieted snail’s pace even pausing twice while helicopters passed, that I began to quiver in my seat.
I forget every time I see this movie how intense it is. This is why I’ve watched it three times; you can’t turn it off. The opening scene wastes no time getting to it. We see the man with a perfect life. He is being honored by a room full of friends, peers, and his beautiful family and then we cut straight to the letter that could destroy it all. This movie begins where others would take a couple of acts to build up to. I would love to know from those who were watching for the first time if they see Dolores (Anjelica Huston) as I do, a corpse from the start. Even in the first scene in Dolores’ apartment it seems with every beat that she is digging her own grave. When she finally brings up his financial infidelities, her face is blocked by the stove and out of sight. This suggestion of her as a headless body foreshadows the bone chilling shot of her lifeless eyes staring up at her murderer.
This movie is never about how Judah (Martin Landau) will deal with the infidelity as much as will he be able to go through with the inevitable murder and will it change him. In Judah’s storyline we are given the proverbial angel and devil on the shoulder. I am well aware that Jews don’t believe in the devil or hell, but there is his patient, friend, and Rabbi, Ben on one shoulder, and his Mafioso brother Jack on the other. These two opposite representations put Judah in the middle and the conflict becomes which path will Judah walk: the righteous or the wicked? Cliff (Woody Allen) is also torn between becoming the Lester (Alan Alda) he loathes - a scrupulous, successful, wolf in sheep’s clothing with no moral integrity, or his sister - a woman so decent and pathetic that she literally gets defecated on. This point is what reminds me of the themes in ‘Straw Dogs.’ Both movies present men of strong moral conviction and practicality faced with a choice between fighting for what they need or standing for what they believe. Cliff chooses the high ground shouting the truth of his documentary subject, which loses him a possible career opportunity, his wife, and his love. Judah ignores the eyes of God and does what it takes to get what he thinks he needs.
If the movie has a flaw it is that these two storylines don’t measure up to each other. The director is much more interested in Judah’s story, and spends the bulk of the film on him. We never see long shots of Cliff thinking like those of Judah in his car or in his apartment. Though it seems to make the film uneven I think the title of the movie explains it. The title, ‘Crimes and Misdemeanors,’ not only explains this format of two stories that weigh unevenly on the mind, but also offers us one more ironic joke from the storyteller in that the way the two characters are punished doesn’t equal the crime. Judah gets a slap on the wrist from his conscience before prospering and Cliff loses everything. Read this way the title may suggest that in today’s society murder is merely a misdemeanor compared to the real crime of telling the truth and speaking out against those who are in positions of power. The last scene, and the first time our two “heroes” meet show Judah, the man who chose not to confess, as happily rewarded. Judah’s fate mirrors that of Halley (Mia Farrow) who ignored her better judgment and is showered with love and wealth, and Cliff’s wife who, disgustingly overjoyed, shares with Lester that she has been cheating on Cliff and eager to leave him. Cliff, on the other hand, we find completely destroyed. Sharing Cliff’s fate as a person trying to get others to do the right thing are Dolores, who cries about confessing and honesty until she is literally blue in the face, Professor Louis Levy, who has “gone out the window” tired of trying to teach others, and Ben the Rabbi whose advised Judah to confess to his wife and atone to his God and now is completely blind to the world.
The last thing I want to discuss was my one fear choosing this for Movienight. I was afraid that it wouldn’t exploit the Stucco and projected image, which was the original purpose of me inventing Movienight. How naive I was. This movie really exploits the true purpose of our club which is to show the movie the way it was meant to be seen; in front of a full audience in an outdoor setting exceeding the real experience of going to the cinema. All throughout the film is the dichotomy of movie versus reality. As I said before I was shaking in my seat as the film began, the first thirty minutes are uncomfortable and not a typically enjoyable movie experience. It is a world that is very real, dark, lacking a loveable hero, and a pleasing score or any music whatsoever. It is only with the introduction of the Cliff storyline that we get clips of classic cinema complete with all the bells and whistles, and also the clownish Woody Allen who we are allowed to laugh at. The movie then starts to take more liberties with both plots and we see Judah fantasizing and interacting with characters from his past. We are also, finally, given music. What makes this film a masterpiece, and so rewarding in the Back Yard, is how Allen creates high tension that ultimately releases to the sounds of laughter exploding from the viewer beside you. It is obvious he is a great musician himself and a connoisseur of classical and jazz.
Cliff is a documentary filmmaker and we are blessed to see the two protagonists discuss what would make a great movie. He sees the world, wants to romanticize it, but is wrong. While his great subject, Louis Levy, who Cliff thinks is so positive in his views of love and life commits suicide, the horse’s ass Lester ends up loved and respected. In the last scene, he states how he would like to see Judah’s story end. Cliff sees life as it should be, like it is in the movies. Judah is an ophthalmologist and can see life how it really is. He is able to look past conventional ideals of good and bad and wishes to tell the world his story and how he persevered. So, the question remains, what crime did Woody Allen commit? Is it the misdemeanor we now know about (Soon Yi) or a much worse crime? Whatever the case, I am extremely pleased with how this turned out and look forward to see where Davis takes this jam session next.
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