Frequently misquoted as "funnier" ones, it's an amazing prescient line (used twice) from Allen as early as 1980. Following on from the drama Interiors and the black and white comedy drama Manhattan, it's a criticism that Allen would be facing far more regularly in the future, but he addresses it himself before anyone else got the chance.
There's a line of reasoning that if you've seen around half a dozen Woody Allen films you've seen them all, and in some senses that perhaps holds true, particularly for Stardust Memories, one of his most indulgent films of all. Although he denies any autobiographical elements, the film of a comedian who makes films that have pretensions and begin to alienate his audience is clearly closer to home than Zelig or Shadows and Fog. It helps that it's one of his best, beautifully shot and once again paying homage/pastiche to Fellini. That said, it loses a lot of lustre on repeat viewings, particularly in 2012 where postmodern deconstruction is de rigueur, and I did drop my rating two stars watching it again for this review.
Some suggest that Allen's decline was quite swift, and that even during the 80s it was only the odd film that would be worth seeking out. Yet throughout the decade he was still doing some of the best of his work, still yet to be troubled by his personal life overshadowing his art. Perhaps it can be best summed up by Zelig (8). Okay, Zelig's an experimental piece about a human chameleon so it's hardly typical Allen, but the film is interesting and cute, and produces wry smiles... yet is rarely laugh out loud funny. They're largely a series of pictures you'd admire and be entertained by, rather than appreciate as purely comedic spectacles.
People who wanted the genuinely funny guy of the 70s would struggle to find him from this point on, though his work with drama saw new rewards. This was Woody increasing his worth as an artist, with the black and white cinematography used to such great effect in Manhattan repeated here, in Broadway Danny Rose (7) and throughout most of Zelig. Credit for how good many of these films look must go to Gordon Willis, who was Director of Photography on this, Manhattan and Annie Hall. His role as Cinematographer on five other Allen movies of the period didn't harm them, either. It's also notable for being Allen's first film to use old recordings as a soundtrack, something which has become something of a Woody cliché in recent years, but was fresh and vibrant then.
Stardust Memories was Allen's first film of the new decade, but the quality continued throughout as he wrote and directed ten features. Much of it is Allen at the top of his game, with the likes of Hannah and Her Sisters (8), Radio Days (8), the underrated Another Woman (8) and the meaningful albeit overtly "written" Crimes and Misdemeanors (7). Weak films are sparse here, with only the tired A Midsummer Night's Sex Comedy (4) and The Purple Rose of Cairo (4) letting down the quality control. That said, Cairo is still an interesting experiment, following on from Zelig's lead with a character stepping out of a film. However, it perhaps lacks true narrative drive, with the line "they sit around and talk? No action? Nothing happens?" possible self-referencing. It may also be a personal oversight as it's a film that is quite regarded, including by Allen himself. Cairo is also one of three 80s movies in which Woody does not appear, the others being the worthwhile yet heavily drawn September (6) and Another Woman.
Back to Stardust Memories, and film critic Roger Ebert was right when he regarded it as "the first Woody Allen film in which impotence has become the situation rather than the problem." Certainly, as Ebert empathises, the supporting characters have no real depth, particularly the women. The detailed characters of Annie Hall and Manhattan are gone, and in their place are ciphers there to badger or distract Allen. However, what fills their place is ruminations on life, death, existence and morality. Being a film of the period then there are some customary bad taste routines, such as another rape joke and a quip about Hiroshima, but generally this is one of the more thoughtful of Allen's films, no matter how superficially lightweight.
Perhaps with Allen's obvious homage to Fellini then you can't help but feel he doesn't come over favourably by the comparison, but this is, after all, something he concedes himself. Another Woman was a homage to Bergman, but had its own distinct identity. You feel that Stardust Memories couldn't exist at all without 8 1/2, and tying his inspiration so rigidly to another's work isn't Allen at his most inventive.
Overall, it's a filmmaker making a film about filmmaking. And although Woody was bright, witty and ironic enough to steer that from total indulgence, it's still a work that doesn't really ask as many questions as it purports. As a work of art then it's stunning to look at, even though most of the shot compositions are pastiche. But as a film to watch it lacks true emotional depth... though does, at least, presage one of Allen's most successful decades in cinema.
There's a line of reasoning that if you've seen around half a dozen Woody Allen films you've seen them all, and in some senses that perhaps holds true, particularly for Stardust Memories, one of his most indulgent films of all. Although he denies any autobiographical elements, the film of a comedian who makes films that have pretensions and begin to alienate his audience is clearly closer to home than Zelig or Shadows and Fog. It helps that it's one of his best, beautifully shot and once again paying homage/pastiche to Fellini. That said, it loses a lot of lustre on repeat viewings, particularly in 2012 where postmodern deconstruction is de rigueur, and I did drop my rating two stars watching it again for this review.
Some suggest that Allen's decline was quite swift, and that even during the 80s it was only the odd film that would be worth seeking out. Yet throughout the decade he was still doing some of the best of his work, still yet to be troubled by his personal life overshadowing his art. Perhaps it can be best summed up by Zelig (8). Okay, Zelig's an experimental piece about a human chameleon so it's hardly typical Allen, but the film is interesting and cute, and produces wry smiles... yet is rarely laugh out loud funny. They're largely a series of pictures you'd admire and be entertained by, rather than appreciate as purely comedic spectacles.
People who wanted the genuinely funny guy of the 70s would struggle to find him from this point on, though his work with drama saw new rewards. This was Woody increasing his worth as an artist, with the black and white cinematography used to such great effect in Manhattan repeated here, in Broadway Danny Rose (7) and throughout most of Zelig. Credit for how good many of these films look must go to Gordon Willis, who was Director of Photography on this, Manhattan and Annie Hall. His role as Cinematographer on five other Allen movies of the period didn't harm them, either. It's also notable for being Allen's first film to use old recordings as a soundtrack, something which has become something of a Woody cliché in recent years, but was fresh and vibrant then.
Stardust Memories was Allen's first film of the new decade, but the quality continued throughout as he wrote and directed ten features. Much of it is Allen at the top of his game, with the likes of Hannah and Her Sisters (8), Radio Days (8), the underrated Another Woman (8) and the meaningful albeit overtly "written" Crimes and Misdemeanors (7). Weak films are sparse here, with only the tired A Midsummer Night's Sex Comedy (4) and The Purple Rose of Cairo (4) letting down the quality control. That said, Cairo is still an interesting experiment, following on from Zelig's lead with a character stepping out of a film. However, it perhaps lacks true narrative drive, with the line "they sit around and talk? No action? Nothing happens?" possible self-referencing. It may also be a personal oversight as it's a film that is quite regarded, including by Allen himself. Cairo is also one of three 80s movies in which Woody does not appear, the others being the worthwhile yet heavily drawn September (6) and Another Woman.
Back to Stardust Memories, and film critic Roger Ebert was right when he regarded it as "the first Woody Allen film in which impotence has become the situation rather than the problem." Certainly, as Ebert empathises, the supporting characters have no real depth, particularly the women. The detailed characters of Annie Hall and Manhattan are gone, and in their place are ciphers there to badger or distract Allen. However, what fills their place is ruminations on life, death, existence and morality. Being a film of the period then there are some customary bad taste routines, such as another rape joke and a quip about Hiroshima, but generally this is one of the more thoughtful of Allen's films, no matter how superficially lightweight.
Perhaps with Allen's obvious homage to Fellini then you can't help but feel he doesn't come over favourably by the comparison, but this is, after all, something he concedes himself. Another Woman was a homage to Bergman, but had its own distinct identity. You feel that Stardust Memories couldn't exist at all without 8 1/2, and tying his inspiration so rigidly to another's work isn't Allen at his most inventive.
Overall, it's a filmmaker making a film about filmmaking. And although Woody was bright, witty and ironic enough to steer that from total indulgence, it's still a work that doesn't really ask as many questions as it purports. As a work of art then it's stunning to look at, even though most of the shot compositions are pastiche. But as a film to watch it lacks true emotional depth... though does, at least, presage one of Allen's most successful decades in cinema.