One reason Woody Allen drives critics crazy these days – aside from his increasingly flaccid self-parodies posing as new movies, of course – is that there’s nothing they can do to hurt him. One of the recurring character types in his “serious” efforts is the guy who gets away with murder, never to receive his comeuppance. Clearly a lot of people think Allen is that guy. It’s not so much that he survived the whole Mia Farrow/Soon-Yi contretemps; in Allen’s case, he keeps getting away with making movies that are murder to sit through.
The British papers are particularly harsh in this assessment, probably because the critically excoriated Cassandra’s Dream is just now reaching London theaters. Interviewing Allen for The Times, James Mottrom comes off as a man beating his heat against a brick wall. ““I never think about a film once it’s finished and I’m almost finished filming another one,” Allen says, responding to a question about the Cannes premiere of Vicky Cristina Barcelona. “I never give it a second thought. It was finished last summer and now it’s this summer.” When asked about his lack of critical support in recent years, the Woodman shruggeth. ““I haven’t read a word regarding myself or my films in over 30 years…I have no idea how they are regarded. Even from a financial point of view if one does well I’d never know as the money flows to my accountants – and I have no contact with them.”
Is he a man concerned with his legacy? ““I never have any idea what happens to my films after I put them out. I don’t know where they are released, what theatres they are in. Distribution of my movies falls into the category of business and I don’t have the slightest interest in their fate.” Has he improved as a filmmaker with time? ““I don’t see any reason why I should be any better now.”
In The Guardian, humorist-provocateur Joe Queenan issues a call to action: “Europe, please stop funding this man.” This is what really seems to get under Allen haters’ skin – it doesn’t matter how his films perform, there’s always someone lined up to finance another one, year after year after year. “Six years ago,” Queenan writes, “the New York Times published a front-page article reporting that only eight people had shown up at a Times Square cinema to see an afternoon screening of Woody Allen's new film, Hollywood Ending. To many of us, the number sounded a bit high; surely the eight included ushers, refugees seeking political asylum, undercover cops and vagrants…. Americans can be blamed for many things, but the perpetuation of Allen's zombie-like career is one atrocity for which we refuse to be held accountable. It is Europeans who are providing much of the money for these projects, Europeans who are welcoming the director to their communities, Europeans who are marching through the turnstiles in support of Allen's interchangeably neurasthenic films. Europeans are the ones paying the freight for Allen's cavalcade of duds.”
Through it all, Allen remains unflappable. He’s currently shooting in New York for the first time in four years. You can’t stop him.
