Why do characters in musicals suddenly and inexplicably break into song? Musical numbers are an emotional outlet for a film's characters, a means to express joys, sorrows, and yearnings that would otherwise be unarticulated. This is an outlet that, regrettably, is rarely available to ordinary people in the ordinary world. What Woody Allen does here is to bring the cinematic principles of the musical within the grasp of everyday characters – that is, people like you and me. Allen chose his actors precisely for their lack of singing and dancing ability, and on one occasion reportedly asked Goldie Hawn to "sing worse." If the musical numbers are clumsy and awkward, then I suppose that's part of their charm; Allen shoots most of his scenes in one or two takes, deliberately minimising the extent to which he is able to manipulate the quality of the performances. Nowadays, the one-take musical number is an oddity, and here it draws attention to the performers' weaknesses, but recall that this is how Astaire and Rogers were always filmed, lovingly and always with full attention on the dancers themselves.
'Everyone Says I Love You (1996)' is a lighthearted romantic romp, a weaving of love stories connected by a single New York household. Edward Norton and Drew Barrymore are a lovestruck couple whose engagement is thrown into turmoil by the arrival of a sleazy ex-con (Tim Roth). Natasha Lyonne is a precocious teenager, attracted to a succession of random men, who tries to help her father (Allen) score a girlfriend by relaying a woman's (Julia Roberts) confidential psychiatric confessions. Not surprisingly, Allen's subplot is the strongest, bittersweet and heartfelt, and his final, melancholy dance with ex-wife Steffi (Goldie Hawn) carries all the sorrow and lamenting of Fred and Ginger's "Never Gonna Dance" number in 'Swing Time (1936)' {and does so even with Hawn's slightly bizarre gravity-defying antics}. On a lighter note, I also loved the Dandridge son (played by Lukas Haas), whose fiercely-Republican political convictions are explained away by a medical condition that was limiting the supply of oxygen to his brain.
'Everyone Says I Love You (1996)' is a lighthearted romantic romp, a weaving of love stories connected by a single New York household. Edward Norton and Drew Barrymore are a lovestruck couple whose engagement is thrown into turmoil by the arrival of a sleazy ex-con (Tim Roth). Natasha Lyonne is a precocious teenager, attracted to a succession of random men, who tries to help her father (Allen) score a girlfriend by relaying a woman's (Julia Roberts) confidential psychiatric confessions. Not surprisingly, Allen's subplot is the strongest, bittersweet and heartfelt, and his final, melancholy dance with ex-wife Steffi (Goldie Hawn) carries all the sorrow and lamenting of Fred and Ginger's "Never Gonna Dance" number in 'Swing Time (1936)' {and does so even with Hawn's slightly bizarre gravity-defying antics}. On a lighter note, I also loved the Dandridge son (played by Lukas Haas), whose fiercely-Republican political convictions are explained away by a medical condition that was limiting the supply of oxygen to his brain.