What's the AFI Project, you ask? For more information, or if you just enjoy my bemused ramblings, read here: http://www.spout.com/blogs/pippin06/archive/2008/3/1/25756.aspx
Annie Hall is on the following AFI lists:
The Original Top 100 (#31)
100 Funniest Films (#4)
100 Years...100 Passions (#11)
100 Greatest Film Songs (#90 - "Seems Like Old Times")
100 Movie Quotes (#55 - Annie Hall: "La-dee da, la-dee-da.")
The Revised Top 100 (#35)
10 Top 10's (#2 Romantic Comedy)
I own Annie Hall (test = pass) because it is one of the most refreshing films to ever be made, by Woody Allen and, really, by anyone. I love this film because it gives no party a win, no one-up in the battle of the sexes, and provides no easy answers. There's not necessarily a happy ending, but it's not depressing either. In fact, many of the verbose analyses engaged in by the main characters, Annie herself (Diane Keaton) and Alvy SInger (Allen), seem real because they express universalisms that probably have applied to everyone at one point or another. The fictional license taken in Annie Hall is the fact that the topics of these self-analyses are being explored at one two hour pop covering the span of a relationship.
Alvy Singer - a character too much like the real Mr. Allen to completely suspend disbelief - begins the movie by breaking the fourth wall, reminsicing to the audience about his relationship with free-spirit, yet oddly uptight, Annie Hall. Annie and Alvy are in every way mismatched, and the viewer knows it from the outset. In fact, Alvy practically spoon feeds the ending to the viewer right about the time he's making awkward, subtitled conversation with Annie on a Manhattan balcony, expressing how he doesn't like to be too different from his potential mates (or too similar for that matter). Alvy's Jewish; Annie's WASPy, with a classicly homespun yet anti-Semitic grandmother to boot. Alvy's prone to perspicacious and clearly neurotic verbal self-examination; Annie refuses to learn this tendency, even after Alvy starts paying for her to see a therapist (Alvy's already been seeing one for 15 years) and to take college courses (because, according to Annie, she's not smart enough for Alvy). Annie wants to try new experiences; Alvy's comfort center lies in the safety of routine. Unless it's sexual - and speak of that, Alvy was ready to go from the time he was 7, according to his clever exposition, while Annie needs to be "relaxed" by smoking grass prior to doing the deed. Alvy's twice divorced; Annie's experienced a string of casual partners. And the list goes on, yet the plot explores the chronology of this relationship and how, as mismatched as they may seem, Annie might be the one that got away from Alvy, if not for certain factors that doomed the relationship, including each individual's own unfair expectations.
I love this movie because there's nothing really like it (truly) in Allen's catalogue, and there's no romantic comedy that has successfully copied the same delicate balance achieved by Mr. Allen here. This isn't the same predictable tripe that more recent romantic comedies rely upon - a happy-go-lucky, pseudo-replica of the screwball formula of before with the inevitable happy ending and possible wedding at the end. This also isn't the bluesier side of that formula, where the relationship is doomed, and the viewer is left with nothing else but to cry their eyes out at the perverse and divinely unfair injustice that befalls the star-crossed but doomed lovers at play. Annie Hall is light and airy, never succumbing to the vast pessimism to which Alvy/Woody is most prone, but is also touchingly deep and even a little sad when its protagonists achieve those glimmers of maturity and clarity that make them realize what they have and what they eventually lose.
The bottom line is that this film is well written, well acted, and well directed. It's a formula creator, rather than a formula copier. Woody Allen achieved a level of maturity for himself with this film but also gave credibility to the male perspective when examining a true love relationship from both sides (including the male perspective of the female's side). Annie's faults and fortes are fairly represented, including her adventurous spirit, flexibility, and even her insecurities, so much so that I can relate to her very well, 30 years later. Diane Keaton is a joy to watch in this film as much as Mr. Allen because she becomes these personality traits and the woman donning them so completely (and, perhaps, the character had a trace of biographical context from Ms. Keaton's perspective, since she and Mr. Allen were an item for a time). Keaton won the Oscar for this flick too.
The supporting cast was also wonderful, especially a brief but memorable appearance by Christopher Walken as Annie's slightly off brother. I also enjoyed Carol Kane as Alvy's first wife, Allison, and Shelley Duvall as a spaced-out but turned-on "transplendent" rock'n'roll fan with whom Alvy briefly flirts. Paul Simon has a substantial supporting role in this film, although he was less than convincing as a record producer interested in Annie's sultry singing.
I liked all of the visual gaffes and tricks that Mr. Allen used in this movie. They're all clever and obvious yet never trite, which is where the refreshing part comes in. From addressing the camera at random and hilarious points, to split screens, subtitles, and my favorite sequence when Annie is not really "there" with Alvy while having sex, was an original and funny concept that makes me chuckle every time I watch the movie.
And this film is funny - it makes me laugh out loud at several points because these characters, in the way that they are pretty similar after all, say the darndest things, out loud, that others might be thinking but would never say. Is it the fourth funniest film of all American cinema? I can't say and won't be able to until I start that list, though I have laughed at other films more that have lower rankings, including another ranked romantic comedy, The Philadelphia Story. That's neither here nor there at this point, though, because Annie Hall is still undeniably a laugh riot of its own accord.
Plus, it's a perfect time capsule for the late half of the 70s and one of those quintessential love letters to New York City with the various shots of the Brooklyn Bridge at sunset, the seasonal shades of Central Park, and so on. Woody has a very good eye anyway, but it was used to best effect with Annie Hall in creating a background atmosphere to match the hazy nostalgia of Alvy's reflections. Plus, I'm told, it exemplified the cultural attitudes of the late 70s and made androgynous fashion cool for the first time. I guess some of the 80s can be blamed on Annie and Diane, then? Ok, maybe not.
I love this movie lots, as you might be able to tell. It's not quite a masterpiece because there is a certain ham and cheese quality, whether in Woody Allen's particular brand of comedy or the tongue-in-cheek essence of the visual trickery, that prevents me from actually calling it a masterpiece. So, to me, it's one of those movies that can only be called a 9 for being perfectly entertaining because it is. At least when I'm finished watching it, I have a smile on my face, and I didn't notice any "flaws," real or imagined. The ending is bittersweet, but it's real, it's true, and you don't feel bad about it being real and true. You just feel glad that Alvy took the time to tell his story and to make you feel so many emotions, not the least of which includes joy and laughter. Annie Hall deserves its place in the various AFI lists in which it's ranked because it achieves that ethereal balance of entertainment and art that so few movies, in reality, actually do.
Though, for the record, it did beat out Star Wars to win the Best Picture Oscar of 1977... I don't think I can agree, decades later, with that decision. Then again, how often can anyone agree with the Academy? Then again, I may be just a little biased.