Although his moral integrity has been scrutinized a thousand times over, it is inarguable that Woody Allen has had one of the most productive careers in Hollywood. The director has released a new movie every year for the last thirty-three years and nearly every other year before that, going all the way back to What's Up, Tiger Lily?, his first film in 1966. Needless to say the man keeps himself busy, but a glance over his filmography gives rise to the question, does quantity consistently allow for quality?
Irrational Man, Allen's latest, seems to provide an answer: a relatively definitive no. The film follows Abe Lucas (Joaquin Phoenix), a disgruntled alcoholic of a philosophy professor who has recently taken a job in the philosophy department at Braylin, a small-town New England college. His prolific reputation precedes him as his peers and students revere him with a certain wonder, and eventually Lucas develops a relationship with one of his students, Jill Pollard (Emma Stone), and so the Woody Allen tropes ensue, as do the problems.
Lacking the emotional acumen of Blue Jasmine (2013) and the charming wit of Magic in the Moonlight (2014), Irrational Man is more about itself than the story it wants to tell. Dostoyevsky's Crime and Punishment clearly influenced the film, and I won't spoil anything for those of you who haven't read it, but that inherently leads to certain absurdities that the film just can't sustain. Within the confines of a book, such a story works well, but the brevity of film puts that story under unwieldy constraints.
That's not to say that books can't be adapted into film because that's obviously not true. Even this specific book has been adapted time and time again. But Allen's film runs at 95 minutes and merely places its influences where it wants them, never fully exploring or justifying their presence. Its loose base in Crime and Punishment isn't taken seriously and thus the moments of critical climactic power come off as completely unbelievable and unwarranted.
But Irrational Man isn't mediocre simply because it misuses its influences. The dialogue itself is schmaltzy from the onset of the film, as campus-goers openly discuss their amazement at Lucas' arrival and how interesting and edgy he is. Philosophic reflections abound, and although some of them connect, most come off as a bunch of actors reciting lines from a philosophy 101 textbook.
However, I don't mean to imply that the actors themselves are somehow at fault for their cheap lines. Phoenix still provides an engaging performance as Lucas, with his character's personal strife connecting where nothing else does, and Stone is as animated and sincere as ever. But these small victories can't prevent the overall withering of the film.
The disappointment that is Irrational Man gives rise to the question, is Allen reaching the age where his ability to produce quality content is declining? He will be turning eighty this December and is currently one of the oldest working directors in Hollywood. At what age is a man no longer fit to run large-scale productions?
The same question has been posed in regards to Clint Eastwood. Now at the age of eighty-five, Eastwood's ability to direct was put into question after J. Edgar (2011) and Jersey Boys (2014) were released, the former being positively terrible, with the latter proving to be only a marginal improvement. But the release of American Sniper (2014) silenced those critics after it garnered six Oscar nominations and one win, proving that Eastwood still has what it takes to produce quality films.
Is the same true for Allen? Some critics argue that he's been making the same film for his whole career, and even though I disagree with that, I see their point. Has Allen finally run out of ways to reshuffle the same romantic quandaries? I suppose we'll find out next year when his currently untitled project is released.
Irrational Man, Allen's latest, seems to provide an answer: a relatively definitive no. The film follows Abe Lucas (Joaquin Phoenix), a disgruntled alcoholic of a philosophy professor who has recently taken a job in the philosophy department at Braylin, a small-town New England college. His prolific reputation precedes him as his peers and students revere him with a certain wonder, and eventually Lucas develops a relationship with one of his students, Jill Pollard (Emma Stone), and so the Woody Allen tropes ensue, as do the problems.
Lacking the emotional acumen of Blue Jasmine (2013) and the charming wit of Magic in the Moonlight (2014), Irrational Man is more about itself than the story it wants to tell. Dostoyevsky's Crime and Punishment clearly influenced the film, and I won't spoil anything for those of you who haven't read it, but that inherently leads to certain absurdities that the film just can't sustain. Within the confines of a book, such a story works well, but the brevity of film puts that story under unwieldy constraints.
That's not to say that books can't be adapted into film because that's obviously not true. Even this specific book has been adapted time and time again. But Allen's film runs at 95 minutes and merely places its influences where it wants them, never fully exploring or justifying their presence. Its loose base in Crime and Punishment isn't taken seriously and thus the moments of critical climactic power come off as completely unbelievable and unwarranted.
But Irrational Man isn't mediocre simply because it misuses its influences. The dialogue itself is schmaltzy from the onset of the film, as campus-goers openly discuss their amazement at Lucas' arrival and how interesting and edgy he is. Philosophic reflections abound, and although some of them connect, most come off as a bunch of actors reciting lines from a philosophy 101 textbook.
However, I don't mean to imply that the actors themselves are somehow at fault for their cheap lines. Phoenix still provides an engaging performance as Lucas, with his character's personal strife connecting where nothing else does, and Stone is as animated and sincere as ever. But these small victories can't prevent the overall withering of the film.
The disappointment that is Irrational Man gives rise to the question, is Allen reaching the age where his ability to produce quality content is declining? He will be turning eighty this December and is currently one of the oldest working directors in Hollywood. At what age is a man no longer fit to run large-scale productions?
The same question has been posed in regards to Clint Eastwood. Now at the age of eighty-five, Eastwood's ability to direct was put into question after J. Edgar (2011) and Jersey Boys (2014) were released, the former being positively terrible, with the latter proving to be only a marginal improvement. But the release of American Sniper (2014) silenced those critics after it garnered six Oscar nominations and one win, proving that Eastwood still has what it takes to produce quality films.
Is the same true for Allen? Some critics argue that he's been making the same film for his whole career, and even though I disagree with that, I see their point. Has Allen finally run out of ways to reshuffle the same romantic quandaries? I suppose we'll find out next year when his currently untitled project is released.