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TIME: Almanac 1993
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TIME Almanac 1993.iso
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101689
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10168900.083
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1992-09-23
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CINEMA, Page 82Postscript to the '80s
By Richard Schickel
CRIMES AND MISDEMEANORS
Directed and Written by Woody Allen
Judah Rosenthal (Martin Landau) is possessed by a primal
memory: a rabbi instructing the boy Judah that the eye of God
is all seeing; no crime ever escapes it. Now successful and
middle aged, Judah self-deprecatingly suggests to the audience
at a testimonial dinner on his behalf that perhaps he became an
ophthalmologist because he is haunted by that recollection.
Seeing is also a subject that Cliff Stern (Woody Allen)
takes seriously. A documentary filmmaker, he is driven not by
God but by the demands of an unyielding conscience to make his
camera -- his eye -- bear witness to the inequities of his
careless time.
Cliff's only connection to Judah -- until the concluding
sequence of this thematically unified but somewhat bifurcated
movie -- is through Ben, another rabbi (Sam Waterston), who is
one of Cliff's brothers-in-law. The rabbi is Judah's patient,
and his eye trouble is quite literal; by the end of the movie
he has gone blind. But this blindness is also symbolic. By
visiting this affliction on the only character in his movie who
has remained close to God, Allen is suggesting that if the Deity
himself is not dead, then he must be suffering from severely
impaired vision.
All the crimes and misdemeanors Allen records in this film
go not merely unpunished; they are generously rewarded.
Upstairs, on the melodramatic story line, a hypocritical Judah
gets away with murder, arranging for the assassination of his
mistress (Anjelica Huston), who threatens to make their affair
-- and his equally shabby financial affairs -- public, thereby
destroying his family, wealth and reputation.
Downstairs, on the funny line, is Cliff's other
brother-in-law Lester, a sleek TV producer (played by Alan Alda
in a gloriously fashioned comic performance). He offers Cliff
a sinecure: filming a documentary that will make Lester look
like a philosopher-king among the pompous nitwits who produce
prime-time TV. Cliff agrees, but because he tries to turn
Lester's story into a truthful expose, the project collapses.
Along the way he loses the woman he loves (Mia Farrow), as well
as a serious film to which he had been profoundly committed.
This is the funny stuff? Yes, because Allen puts a
deliberately farcical spin on Cliff's frenzies. It is good
showmanship, a way of relieving the itchy ironies of Judah's
discomfiting story. It also rings with irony. If neither Judah's
guilty musings on his own crimes -- and he does exhibit a strong
desire to be caught and punished -- nor decent Cliff's frantic
quest for some kind of fulfillment can awaken heaven's sleeping
eye, then what in this world can? If Manhattan, coming at the
end of the '70s, was Woody Allen's comment on that decade's
besetting sin, self-absorption, then this is his concluding
unscientific postscript on the besetting sin of the '80s, greed.
At times the joints in the movie's carpentry are strained, at
times the mood swings jarring. But they stir us from our
comfortable stupor and vivify a true, moral, always acute and
often hilarious meditation on the psychological economy of the
Reagan years.