Friday, 30 December 2011

STARDUST MEMORIES


LOOK, I’M WOODY. HOWDY, HOWDY, HOWDY.
Starring WOODY ALLEN, even more so than usual


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  Yeah Yeah Yeah, we don’t believe you. Your whole life’s an act, you’re a compulsive liar/masturbator and your hair makes a weird triangle shape that distracts us when you deliver your soliloquies. This isn’t autobiographical? All these memories? Stardust Memories? Everybody back up, there’s a truck full of bullshit flashing its lights. Stardust Memories is another whirling dervish clusterfuck searching for answers in a bastard world, but this time Woody slows the camera down at certain points and catches the beauty that he’s missing by spending all his time up there in the brain. The lingering shot of Charlotte Rampling towards the end is the clincher, but before that we have aliens, gun smoke, ugly fans and Tony Roberts’ drawl to lead us gently through another essay on how unhappy the director is, each deviation more entertaining than the last. It’s a film that strips away the flimsy layers of a man living his life in the public gaze, from the indifference of his fellows to the passion of his lovers, revealing a scared little boy underneath who’s desperately trying to find his place in a world he doesn’t really understand, but has written endless one-liners about in an effort to stoke the void. What chucks this out from a lot of Allen’s other work is the strength of the images he puts forward, in many cases drawn from the lessons learnt watching Fellini films in a black room with no one else but his squealing ego. The opening train scene, all silent screams and drooling emptiness is a masterpiece in meta-upon-meta-upon-meta commentary, almost making you wish you could watch the film that his pretentious persona had produced (hint: you can.), whilst the latter relationship tangles carry an aloofness and dedication to imagination rather than love that distance the piece from his more gushy effusions. It’s another film about art and the point of it all. It’s very, very clever and it knows more than you do, but its letting you see its crib sheets and helping you through the algorithms. It bears repeated watching. It’s fifty-eight light years away from Whatever Works, and damning evidence of how a human mind can degrade over a few decades. Watch it and weep.


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