This has gotten some crummy reviews but it's not all that bad, even if not among Woody Allen's best. One of the things that makes it watchable is that the plot GOES somewhere. Somewhere around this time, Allen was turning out thin plots full of rows but lacking good jokes, like "Manhattan Murder Mystery."
Here Woody is an insurance investigator who looks into high-end jewel thefts. He works in a crowded office that is being rearranged by an efficiency expert, Helen Hunt, whom he hates. At a nightclub both Allen and Hayes are hypnotized and left with an open post-hypnotic trigger, the word "Constantinople" in Allen's case, and "Madagascar" for her.
The villainous stage performer, "The Jade Scorpion," calls them up at awkward hours of the night, triggers the hypnotic trance, and has them carry out heists for him. Allen becomes the chief suspect. And all of this mishigas takes place in a tangled web of relationships and buried lust of the kind that possesses Allen the film maker.
The air is filled with insults and wisecracks, mainly from Allen. Some are pretty enjoyable. Allen plays his familiar nervous wreck, stuttering, put upon, and thoroughly confused. The "girls" -- and what girls they are -- look appealingly 1940-ish. The three principal women look great -- Elizabeth Berkeley, Charlize Theron, and Helen Hunt. If there's a problem with them, it's that they wear too many clothes. Shame.
The musical score is of the genre that Woody Allen feels most comfortable with, period recording of Duke Ellington and the like -- "Sophisticated Lady," "How High the Moon," "Sunrise Serenade." I kind of like it too, so much more affecting than listening to some gangsta threaten to rip my head off and pee down my neck cavity.
You'll probably enjoy it and smile from time to time. I don't think it will bore you; it moves too quickly.
Here Woody is an insurance investigator who looks into high-end jewel thefts. He works in a crowded office that is being rearranged by an efficiency expert, Helen Hunt, whom he hates. At a nightclub both Allen and Hayes are hypnotized and left with an open post-hypnotic trigger, the word "Constantinople" in Allen's case, and "Madagascar" for her.
The villainous stage performer, "The Jade Scorpion," calls them up at awkward hours of the night, triggers the hypnotic trance, and has them carry out heists for him. Allen becomes the chief suspect. And all of this mishigas takes place in a tangled web of relationships and buried lust of the kind that possesses Allen the film maker.
The air is filled with insults and wisecracks, mainly from Allen. Some are pretty enjoyable. Allen plays his familiar nervous wreck, stuttering, put upon, and thoroughly confused. The "girls" -- and what girls they are -- look appealingly 1940-ish. The three principal women look great -- Elizabeth Berkeley, Charlize Theron, and Helen Hunt. If there's a problem with them, it's that they wear too many clothes. Shame.
The musical score is of the genre that Woody Allen feels most comfortable with, period recording of Duke Ellington and the like -- "Sophisticated Lady," "How High the Moon," "Sunrise Serenade." I kind of like it too, so much more affecting than listening to some gangsta threaten to rip my head off and pee down my neck cavity.
You'll probably enjoy it and smile from time to time. I don't think it will bore you; it moves too quickly.