Review of Midnight in Paris (2011) by Steven R — 14 Oct 2013

I dont exactly think that this is necessarily the eruopean phase of the great artist but more like the "f... you" phase.

Every new Woody Allen movie is a major dissapointment.

What at first seems like a harsh soft power take on things associated with of course, only, his reality, really is just that. A favorable, sugar coated mirror-image of his private dislike of himself sold as some kind of education.

In Allens case.

I do not see merrit here whatsoever. It is all fantasy, purely speculation, favorable only in its mysticysm.

To be ignored.

Allen today behaves like the kind of guy who would tell his kid a huge, absurd story(f....ing lie) in order for it to investigate something for itself.

Not my cup of tea.

Especially if the discovery is supposed to be about an artistic soul search.

(Dont go looking, start finding? Or what? Then just say it dam it! 120I though his movies be a little deeper than this).

Grow up.

And write that book.

Or dont and just do something else.

I cant wait till he comes to Berlin. So much history, a lot of great art, but this is maybe a too pandemonic subject for him and certainly not fit for just a flirt with the local travel agent.

Oh yeah...and NO Andre Breton reference. This is, was, pure junk-food for thought. Wheres Giacometti? Of all people there at the time he was certainly the strangest, most unstable, quirkiest of the lot. A lot like Allen.