The Last Movie I Saw

I understand that the script for Whatever Works (written and directed by Woody Allen) is an old one from the 1970s, dusted off to make sure Allen could put something into production before a feared actors strike last year. If that's true, it raises a question about why it was so critical for the fimmaker to have something done in time for the summer season, and whether this signals a turn by Allen towards the creation of product instead of art. I know many would say that process began some time ago, as his annual offerings seldom generate the kind of interest (let alone excitement) that greeted his efforts back in the seventies and early eighties. This one strikes me as another forgettable throwaway, like so many of his movies over the past twenty years. I certainly don't begrudge Allen or anyone else the right to keep working and making movies as long as someone out there is willing to fund them and others are willing to go and watch (similarly, I understand why past-their-prime rock bands continue to tour and re-play their hits for those who remember their glory days). But I'm not sure I'm going to remain part of the latter group myself. In fact, I guess I've already drifted away, since I haven't gone to any of his previous movies since Curse of the Jade Scorpion about eight years ago. Although the current movie has a few good scenes and a few more good lines, it hardly holds together as anything more than a rehash of some common Allen themes (most notably-- mismatched couples brought together by chance). Larry David, the star, is awfully hard for me to take in anything but small doses, and while Evan Rachel Wood is better, Allen draws her character in such broad strokes as to make her more silly than engaging. Patricia Clarkson's character is likewise reduced to little more than a stereotype. Ed Begley Jr. and Michael McKean can usually be depended on to liven things up, but here only the former gets even a single scene to make his mark. This is not so much a bad film as an almost immediately forgettable one; which is exactly what you should expect from half-hearted fodder for the summer market.