Manhattan (1979)

Directed by Woody Allen.

Annie Hall's Romantic Sibling

WARNING #2: This review makes broad references to Annie Hall and, while trying not to contain spoilers, does reveal some story elements of that movie.

Manhattan is considered to be Woody Allen's companion piece to his Annie Hall of two years earlier. They are often said to be very similar: they both star Allen and Diane Keaton, both are about imperfect and somewhat forced relationships, and both have the traditional Allen-isms of him playing essentially himself as a neurotic character who inhabits New York. However, the two are completely different in tone. I think one only needs to see these two movies to realize what a great movie-maker Allen really is: he took essentially the same thematic material and made two movies out of it, and they feel entirely unalike.

If Annie Hall is the blunt, sad realist of the pair, Manhattan is the hopeless romantic. Manhattan contains the story of its older sibling: Allen plays a character (a 42-year-old named Isaac) who gets into a not-necessarily healthy relationship with Keaton's character (named Mary). The main difference in story between the two movies is that in Manhattan the relationship is bookended by what happens in his relationship with a high school senior named Tracy (played by Mariel Hemingway). The main difference in tone is that this story serves as the vehicle for a message of hope and optimism, rather than one of reservation and grudging acceptance of life's realities.

Here we have another protagonist who has had a string of unsuccessful relationships. However, this one never stops trying; his need to be in a relationship is almost childlike, and is evidenced by his being with a 17-year-old at the beginning of the movie. However, the years of his life have lead him to a skewed philosophy, one in which his happiness is trapped by his own rules for having a relationship. He doesn't really take Tracy seriously as a girlfriend and, in his mind, treats her as a fling. Later on, he tries to have a relationship with Mary, and this is ultimately doomed. It's doomed because it's forced; his own rules dictate that he ought to be with someone more his age, despite heavier and more obvious obstacles. You get the idea that maybe what Isaac ought to do is just go with the flow in following his heart. In Annie Hall, going with the flow produces his predicament; in Manhattan, going with the flow is presented as the solution to his predicament.

Following his heart would mean that Isaac should embrace more innocence and faith, rather than "maturity" and "wisdom." Look at the people who make up his personal social microcosm. His best friend Yale (Michael Murphy) is having an affair. Yale's wife Emily (Anne Byrne) seems blissfully unaware, only hoping to convince Yale to have a child. Mary is the one Yale is having an affair with, but she doesn't feel good about it so she substitutes Isaac for him. Isaac's ex-wife, Jill (Meryl Streep) left him for a woman and writes a book detailing her break-up with Isaac almost as an act of vindication against him. These are all adults who have complicated lives, none of them really experiencing happiness. Age brings wisdom, but personal wisdom is often convoluted, sometimes corrupted. Compare this to the "wisdom" of the youth, Tracy. "Everybody gets corrupted," she says, in the film's last line. "You have to have a little faith in people." If that isn't hopeless romanticism, I don't know what is.

In that last scene, Isaac realizes his mistake in over-thinking about the way things should be, but it's a little too late. His requests to Tracy at the end are selfish, hastily spoken, and, yes, immature, but at least they're true. Compared to the song-and-dance that he went through with Mary and Yale, this is refreshing. We think that, perhaps, there could be hope for this poor sap after all.

Playing perhaps the most important roles in the presentation of a romantic tone is the setting, sights, and sounds of this movie. Manhattan is every bit as much of an ode to the city of the title as it is a seriocomic love story. The opening scene of this movie is one of the best opening scenes I have ever seen in a movie. It's a rapturous black-and-white video postcard of the city of Manhattan, complete with Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue accompanying it. The whole movie is in black-and-white, and it is used to awesome effects. It helps convey romance in almost every scene, from Isaac's early conversation with Tracy in his original apartment, to his interactions with Mary in the observatory, to the close-ups of Tracy's face. Gershwin numbers provide the score for most of the movie. And everything Allen and his cinematographer, Gordon Willis, did made Manhattan look so romantic that I wanted to be there after I saw the movie (even though I know that the Manhattan of reality could only be very different). There's a certain feeling within me that I long for; it's kind of a lonely sadness and uncertainty, always conveyed to me with dark tones, yet it is exciting to me. This movie nailed that feeling for me.

I like this movie better than I like Annie Hall. I think it's the romantic in me speaking. Although I loved Annie Hall's honesty in showing all the ups-and-downs of a relationship, there's something within me that, after accepting reality for what it is, truly loves the idealizing and the glossing of life that only a good story (and, better yet, a good movie) can offer. In Annie Hall, the progression lead the viewer to a maturity, but I'd rather be the child that Manhattan asks us not to leave behind.

Rating: 10/10

©Jeffrey Chen, Aug. 10, 2001

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