George Clooney's HBO series about L.A. acting culture is a mashup of fact and fiction.
Is the point of the film that a "comic" story and a "tragic" story are basically the same? Maybe so. Except that here, neither is comic (I didn't laugh once) or tragic--just tired and boring. The lines sound like nothing any human being would ever say, and the script feels like a first draft Allen knocked out in a couple of afternoons. In fact, all the lines sound like Allen himself, and the script is filled with the same justifications for bad behavior that have filled his recent films (e.g., "the most important thing to do is to enjoy life while you can").
The actors are embarrassingly miscast and stilted, and it feels like no one even directed them. Chlo� Sevigny, a monotone zombie in the best of conditions, was inexplicably cast as a wealthy, spoiled shopaholic. Will Ferrell, in the unenviable "Woody Allen" lead role, struggles painfully to imitate the Woodman's inflections. Other good actors wander in and out, stranded and charmless.
Increasingly trapped inside his own aging head, Allen has only one way to go after this mess, and it seems like he's done it: His new movie Match Point is reportedly his best in 15 years. Fair enough--he's already won his own Can You Top This? to make his worst. F
You'll Like It If You Like: Cringing, hating Woody Allen, real estate porn.
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