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WHATEVER WORKS Send This Review to a Friend
Don’t pay any attention to habitual Woody Allen detractors who often don’t seem to get his movies and wave length and complain he’s doing the same old thing. Not only is his latest, “Whatever Works” delightfully and intellectually funny. He also has some fairly profound observances about the need for people to find what works for them in the midst of the societal problems that exist in the world. Smartly written and directed by Allen, the film is perfectly cast and beautifully photographed in Manhattan, with which Allen has had a career-long love affair.
Taking us on a tour through the milieu Allen creates is Larry David, even more irascible than on TV’s “Curb Your Enthusiasm.” The opening scenes are especially enjoyable as David, playing Boris, a self-described genius who was supposedly an accomplished physicist, talks directly to the audience and mocks us. He expounds his cynical view that the world is populated by idiots and all comes to nothing. So what’s the use, he reasons. He once tried to commit suicide, but failed by landing on an awning, being left with a limp. He has become a lonely, bitter hypochondriac given to waking up terrified in the middle of the night, yet he flaunts his superiority to everyone else. Allen amasses a string of scenes to comically define Boris’ hostility.
Into his life pops Evan Rachel Wood as Melody, a young, wide-eyed Southern girl who has fled from her overbearing mother and landed in Manhattan without a place to stay. She approaches Boris as he comes home and asks for food. After berating her, he invites her up to his apartment and feeds her. She persuades him to let her spend the night, and we know it will turn out to be longer. All this is very amusing as Boris makes fun of her background and Melody misconstrues his witty remarks. Wood is a joy in the role and her cheerful openness sparkles. She is not a virgin—she details her sexual fling with a boy back home in violation of her upbringing, but there is no guilt.
Boris soon takes on a role as her mentor and it is droll when Melody begins to sound like him, echoing his attitudes with similar expressions. Meanwhile, she is developing a crush on him. She is the aggressor, and he keeps telling her to leave and that she’s nuts to even think of him romantically, given the vast age discrepancy and everything else about him. (All the while David sounds like a stand in for Woody Allen, who might have played the part.) Before thinking the relationship wouldn’t happen, take a look at other May-December affairs that occur in the real world. But one suspects this one cannot last. The movie wisely shuns any sex play between the two.
Allen has more on his mind in the plotting. Into the picture comes Patricia Clarkson as Marietta, Melody’s mom, an uptight, religious, repressed wife whose husband, Melody’s father, has run off with another woman. I started laughing at the mere prospect of Marietta meeting Boris, now her old fart son-in-law. Following what happens to her in Manhattan is often hilarious, and if you know Clarkson’s work, you can count on her to give a terrific performance.
Later, Melody’s father (Ed Begley, Jr.) shows up seeking reconciliation with Marietta. He is in for some surprises, in his own life too. Melody and Boris are also in for some new developments. Allen handles all of this with aplomb while showering attention on various parts of Manhattan as a backdrop. David is exactly right for the role of Boris, as is everyone else for their parts. Allen sprinkles the film with plenty of laugh lines and situations, always with the sophistication and sense of humor that characterize his best work. There are only a few comparatively dull moments, but they are fleeting. Those who appreciate Allen are in for a jolly good time watching characters in flux as they inch comically toward “whatever works” for them. A Sony Pictures Classics release.
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