Every Wednesday, FM writers Simon Columb and Brogan Morris write two short reviews on Woody Allen films … in the hope of watching all his films over the course of roughly 49 weeks. If you have been watching Woody’s films and want to join in, feel free to comment with short reviews yourself! Next up is Shadows and Fog & Sleeper…
Simon Columb on Shadows and Fog…
Lurking in the shadows is the killer. You don’t want to discuss it and you don’t want to put yourself in the fog and make yourself a target. It is inevitable. Death, in and of itself, is inevitable. Shadows and Fog, a dark and dusty drama from Woody Allen asks these profound questions. Under the guise of an ambiguous type of dwelling, town folk are awkward and join different groups (see. Religions) in the hope of capturing the killer (see. Death). Mr Kleinman (Allen), alternatively, is not sure of the rules (not sure of God) and not sure what is expected of him to capture the killer (scared of death, but not convinced of religion). Though aspiring to be cerebral and high-brow, Shadows and Fog attempts to metaphorically deconstruct the meaning of life. Maybe further watching improve it, but the happy-go-lucky prostitutes and uninteresting investigation don’t engage – and it should.
Brogan Morris on Sleeper…
One of the first things you notice about Sleeper is the singularity of the authorial voice, Woody writing, directing, starring in and – for the only time in his career – scoring the movie himself. There’s also how surprisingly well Allen’s style works within the science fiction genre, and how imaginative Sleeper’s design work is, all bubble pods and future-baroque decor. The premise is familiar – a man from the present (1973 for Sleeper) wakes up years later into a strange future – but Allen utilises the situation for comic effect; enhanced crops give way to giant banana peels primed for pratfalls, while we see the only thing to really survive 200 years intact is the McDonald’s logo. The high concept allows Allen to indulge his comedic instincts, utilising satire, physical comedy and fish-out-of-water farce all at once. It’s absurd, and the assured work of a comic genius.
Brogan Morris – Lover of film, writer of words, pretentious beyond belief. Thinks Scorsese and Kubrick are the kings of cinema, but PT Anderson and David Fincher are the young princes. Follow Brogan on Twitter if you can take shameless self-promotion.
