Leoni Online Articles
Varity.com Hollywood Ending Review
The ending is pretty amusing -- and so is the beginning, for that matter -- in "Hollywood Ending," Woody Allen's highly idiosyncratic look at an aging auteur trying to make a comeback. It's the middle that's a muddle, a case of Allen taking a chance on an outrageous conceit that might have served nicely in a literary element but just doesn't play out convincingly onscreen even in a comedic context. For those always on the lookout for the "funny" Allen, this one definitely has its moments, but too much of the picture is flat, dispiriting and frankly unbelievable in fundamental ways that defy the granting of poetic license. Insider nature of the film biz yarn should make this a winner at festivals in San Francisco and, especially, Cannes, where it will generate appreciative guffaws as the opening-night attraction on May 15 due to its French-referencing final punchlines. But despite Allen's notably heightened profile of late, DreamWorks will have trouble pushing the picture much beyond the filmmaker's modest B.O. norm domestically.
Self-referential up to a point in that Allen plays a 60ish director whose prime lies at least a decade behind him -- but different from Allen himself in that his character, Val Waxman, is a director-for-hire who hasn't actually made a feature in years -- pic is loaded with inside industry jokes that will play to varying success with mainstream viewers. If possible, Val may be more neurotic and hypochondriacal than any of Allen's previous alter egos. And then there's the ongoing plausibility problem of Allen, who looks grayer and more wizened than ever, hooking up with and even being propositioned by hot babes 30 or more years his junior. Overall, pic falls in the middle ground where his recent work is concerned, significantly better than "Small Time Crooks," "The Curse of the Jade Scorpion," "Celebrity" and "Everyone Says I Love You," but not as sharp as "Deconstructing Harry" or "Mighty Aphrodite."
Basic premise is dynamically conveyed in the opening scene, in which Galaxie Pictures exec Ellie (Tea Leoni) persuades her boss and lover Hal (Treat Williams) and all-purpose studio flunky Ed (George Hamilton) that the best person to direct their upcoming $60 million period drama "The City That Never Sleeps" is that consummate New York filmmaker, Val Waxman. Not only are the men surprised at this recommendation because Val is considered a total has-been, but Ellie was married to Val before Hal stole her away.
As for Val, he really is a mess. Discouraged because Peter Bogdanovich just got a TV movie gig he was up for, he quits a commercial shoot in snowy Canada on his first day to return to Manhattan and his unlikely girlfriend, Lori (Debra Messing), an air-headed aspiring actress who's still waiting for Val to get another picture so he can cast her in it.
When the skeptical Galaxie crew flies into New York to talk with him, Val nearly blows it by morosely detailing all his ailments. Val seems so impossible to work with that one begins to doubt the premise's validity, a feeling compounded when, during a private drink with Ellie, all he can do is berate her for having left him all those years ago. But even then Allen earns the benefit of the doubt by producing some zinger lines, such as his response to Ellie's complaint about his intimacy preferences: "Sex is better than talk. Talk is what you suffer through in order to get to sex."
Once Val gets the job, the haughty auteur in him rises to the fore, as he insists upon changes in the script and hiring a Chinese cinematographer who speaks no English (shades of Allen's own recent collaboration with Zhao Fei). He also sneakily hires Lori, despite her complete inappropriateness for the role of an upper-class socialite, whereupon she conveniently disappears -- to go tone up at a spa -- until very late in the action.
Then, some 40 minutes in, comes the Big Twist, the realized fear of any visual artist and the ultimate hysterical response to heavy pressure and responsibility: Val goes blind. It's psychosomatic, his shrink tells him, without being able to predict when the affliction will lift. A despairing Val is persuaded by his eternally optimistic agent Al Hack (Mark Rydell, excellent) to go ahead anyway, that he will protect him and function as his on-set eyes. There's only one thing, Al warns: "This can't get out!"
Device is intellectually funny and might well have been hilarious in an Allen short story or even in the printed script. But the sight of Val bumping around the set and trying to guide the cast and crew while not revealing his secret (and without the benefit of dark glasses, either) generates a queasy feeling that becomes increasingly difficult to live with the longer it goes on. When Al is banished from the set, a Chinese business student working as the d.p.'s translator becomes Val's confidant, but the awkwardness of the whole situation is augmented by the certainty that what's being caught on film can't be any good.
Notwithstanding Val's rationalization that Beethoven composed great symphonies while deaf, the fundamental ludicrousness of the situation playing out at length combines with sagging inspiration during this long middle section to slow the film to a staggering limp. The studio maintains an amazingly liberal hands-off attitude despite Hal's grave doubts going in, and even a journalist's accidental (and pretty funny) discovery of Val's condition doesn't bring the production crashing to a halt. Wrap-up isn't the "happy ending" that might be expected, but it will give film buffs a good laugh or two.
The almost irrepressibly vivacious and sexy Leoni could theoretically be a great Allen leading lady, but here she has the misfortune of alternately being on the receiving end of Val's neurotic harangues and having to defensively stick up for her ex to her colleagues. Williams is in good form as her shallow but not stupid fiance, while Hamilton is an amusingly baffling presence as a studio rep with no readily apparent function except to carry around a golf putter. A small subplot involving Val's estranged son, whose punk rock accouterments are painfully dated, accomplishes nothing and could have been usefully excised.
Bathed in golden hues by German lenser Wedigo von Schultzendorff, whose work on "The Thirteenth Floor" caught Allen's attention, production is well appointed physically, with production designer Santo Loquasto and costume designer Melissa Toth making key contributions. Score consists of a pleasing collection of vintage pop tunes.
Camera (Technicolor), Wedigo von Schultzendorff; editor, Alisa Lepselter; production designer, Santo Loquasto; art director, Tom Warren; set decorator, Regina Graves; costume designer, Melissa Toth; sound (SDDS/DTS/Dolby Digital), Gary Alper; supervising sound editor, Robert Hein; assistant director, Richard Patrick; casting, Juliet Taylor, Laura Rosenthal. Reviewed at DreamWorks screening room, Glendale, April 17, 2002. (In San Francisco Film Festival -- closing night; Cannes Film Festival -- opening night.) MPAA rating: PG-13. Running time: 112 MIN.
Affiliates | view all affiliates
Leoni Online is strictly a fan site and not affiliated with Ms. Leoni in any way. Material from this site may be reproduced as long as proper credit is given. This site is a Web-Glitter production and is hosted by Fan-Sites.org. © gertiebeth 1997-2007.
Stalkerazzi
Latest News:
Search for Téa: