In a fairer world, Woody Allen would be revered for his stability. He’s been writing and directing about a film a year, for forty years, with a two-decade stretch in which he was constantly one-upping himself with classics from “Annie Hall” to “Crimes and Misdemeanors.”
He’s never flagged on the philosophical underpinnings either: life is as fragile as it is arbitrary, so people to do strange and hurtful things just to keep themselves engaged. Oh, the fact that there’s jazz and orgasms is nice, but it almost makes it more painful.
Okay, maybe that last bit is why he’s not as consistently embraced as he might be; with age (he turned 75 in December), he’s only gotten more matter-of-fact about the bleakest elements of his world view, which might explain why a modest success like “You Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger” can slip onto DVD without much fanfare.
Set in London, the film drops in on two couples, each contracting the same cold sweat that comes from feeling your life has accrued to nothing.
The first and most proactive is Alfie (Anthony Hopkins), a meek man who dashes out on his wife of four decades, thinking the time is ripe for a do-over. It’s part encroaching mortality, but also the loss of a young son long ago; Alfie still clings to the hope that he can have a boy, teach him football and not march off into eternity so quietly.
This leaves his wife, Helena, a suicidal wreck and no small burden to their daughter Sally (Naomi Watts), who would be plenty busy with her own floundering marriage. Her husband Roy (Josh Brolin) can’t earn them a living, and spends his days pining for the classical guitarist outside his window; all the while he’s supposed to be hashing out his last-ditch effort at a successful novel.
That’s the setup, and the payoff consists of several perverse twists, predicted with roughly 50/50 accuracy by Helena’s new psychic mentor.
If you know Allen’s work, some of the scenarios will seem awfully familiar: May/December romance, frail marriages, shady fortune tellers. But in stark contrast to last year’s petrified nihilistic farce, “Whatever Works,” this one has energy and really draws out its settings and characters — due in no small part to the acting trifecta of Brolin-Hopkins-Watts, carrying the climax on their faces.
What does it add up to? At the start and finish, our narrator quotes MacBeth, where life is characterized as a tale “full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.” There’s little of the inexplicable hope or joy that radiates from the director’s best work. But this particular journey to nowhere is funny. It’s also observant, and mildly devastating — in other words, plenty good, so long as you’re not just stacking it against its lineage.
Or looking for reasons to go on living.