Whatever Works Review

Posted by Erik Luers on 07.23.2009

I laughed and left disappointed....

Larry David... Boris Yellnikoff
Patricia Clarkson... Marietta
Evan Rachel Wood ... Melodie St. Ann Celestine
John Gallagher Jr. ... Perry
Ed Begley Jr. ... John
Conleth Hill ... Leo Brockman
Jessica Hecht ... Helena








A critic’s confession: I saw Woody Allen’s new film, Whatever Works, twelve days ago (as of this publishing) on a warm Saturday evening. I had seen Moon earlier in the day and had enjoyed that film a great deal. In a good mood, I sat down to view Allen’s latest and, of course, I smiled during every second of Larry David’s humorous opening monologue. It’s been a while since Allen has employed that Brechtian, breaking of the fourth of wall narrative in one of his works, and it was very refreshing to see it here. As the film continued and the story started to develop and find its way, I thought to myself, Larry David is really right for a Woody Allen comedy. A little too cynical perhaps, but his line delivery is excellent in its precise rhythmic flow (hardcore Allen fans would be correct in noting that David had a small role in Allen’s portion of New York Stories in 1989, a lesser work). The casting in this film is first rate. The screenplay on the other hand (supposedly written thirty years earlier) unfortunately isn't.

I laughed quite a bit with the film’s opening half hour, with its un-PC, blunt, Alvy Singer like witticisms and sharp observations on human nature; there are lines of dialogue here that rank up there with Allen’s best. It’s just that the last hour of the film is so excruciatingly bland that I can’t in good conscience recommend the latest work from our New York master. Whatever Works is better than most American comedies out there today, but that isn’t so much a compliment as it is a sad statement on today’s current crop of cinema funnymen.

Maybe that’s why it took me so long to sit down and write this review. This is one of those “in between” movies, one not so much bad as it is disappointing. Now Erik, shouldn’t you judge a film based on what it is and not on what it isn’t? Well, does my disappointment imply that I had, God forbid, high expectations for a Woody Allen film? If it does, then call a lawyer and sue me. I expect a certain level of quality from a Woody Allen project, and perhaps my high hopes caused me to dislike Whatever Works to a degree that others fortunately will not.

Whenever I show someone an Allen film, they laugh uproariously, and I smile because of their enjoyment of his words. I’m not proclaiming that the works of the artist formerly known as Allen Konigsberg are high brow or upperclass (terms I’m sure the man would hate), but just that it takes a certain kind of person to enjoy this dialogue heavy comedy style. If audience members find themselves loving Whatever Works, I will be ecstatic. I just hope that they will then go back and revisit some of his earlier works to see where I’m coming from. Although I have never met Woody Allen, I feel as though I’ve know him for quite some time, at least thanks to the characters he creates. Every year a new Allen film comes out, and I always anticipate its arrival. Even if they aren’t always spectacular, I knew there would be a level of comfort involved in its familiarity that would continue to make me a fan. So why can’t I recommend this one?

For starters, this is a film with a real identity crisis. Unsure of whether it wants to be a straight up, joke a minute laugh riot, or a poignant take on relationships, Whatever Works starts out high and then quickly putters out of steam. The setup is unique enough. Boris Yellnikoff, fresh out of a relationship, comes across a young, Southern gal looking for a place to stay in the big city. Begrudgingly, Borris takes this young girl in, all the while insulting her for being, well, vastly inferior to him. She has a Southern naivete that contrasts his New York streets smarts, and their early exchanges are very funny.

So too are the numerous conversations Boris has with his older drinking buddies (when Boris rants on why kids should spend two weeks going to a summer concentration camp, the old Allen is jabbing and jabbing hard). Their familiar banter reminds you of the fun of listening to Allen's characters simply talk. His friends are jealous of Boris’ young and sexy roommate, and the men’s dialogue exchanges are very humorous (earlier, when an angry mother of a chess player interrupts a conversation Borris is having, we laugh at Allen’s classic and vivacious mastery over the art of the putdown).

The first act works so well that you almost wish they could pack things up right there and call it a night. Melodie's mother is brought into the picture (played by the very good thespian, Patricia Clarkson) and then things unfortunately start to get hokey and contrived. Relying on cheap, dusty Southern stereotypes (they love Billy Graham and God, and then look down upon homosexuals), Melodie's mother — and later, her Bible loving father — bring a cloying falsity to the film's plot. We don't believe the performances because they seem to be constantly winking at the audience, hoping for a lame laugh it wouldn't get ten years ago, let alone thirty.

Apparently, Melodie cut off all contact with her parents when she fled to the Big Apple and so, Mama and Papa are shocked by their new son in law. The oddness of that situation gets a laugh once. And yet, I couldn't help but think back to Manhattan in which a similar relationship took place between two people of a considerable age difference. That relationship (and those actors, Mariel Hemingway and Allen himself) made you believe that a love existed between these two people. It was peculiar of course, but that classic scene of Allen's character, Isaac, running across Manhattan to stop Tracy from leaving him held real weight and power. You could tell Isaac really wanted to be with her even if he knew it would never work out.

In Whatever Works, the Boris/Melodie relationship seems less defined and believable, and thus, we can't find it in ourselves to get emotionally invested. I'm not sure if Allen even wants us to. Just like that, the two are hitched and living together as man and wife. Do they even have sex? The relationship appears strictly platonic (except for a Viagra reference thrown in late in the film); the two seem more like Oscar Madison and Felix Ungar than Romeo and Juliet. When Melodie tells Boris that she wants to leave him for someone younger, are we supposed to feel bad for Boris? Are we supposed to laugh? Again, these moments play more like bad outtakes from Manhattan than the screwball comedy we first thought we were watching. This movie juggles more personalities than Zelig.

Too many characters, too many subplots, and too many scenes lacking a pulse make Whatever Works the work of a director trying to do whatever works to no avail. Why do we have to follow Melanie and her new love interest for seemingly no reason at all? What's the point of viewing Melanie's mother's casual sex romps? The purpose of these scenes left me scratching my head in bewilderment. Here is a film that would make a good sketch but an average feature length film, and so that's what we get here. I must mention a brief moment where Boris plays chess with a young girl in the park. She quickly loses and Boris holds out his hand, demanding she pay up. It's a blink and you'll miss it moment but boy did I laugh at that. It's a sight gag with purpose.

The rest of the film lacks the spontaneity that is needed for a film like this to work, and so we watch Allen go from point A to point B without a smooth transition. Film criticism legend Andrew Sarris recently mentioned in Film Comment that upon viewing Annie Hall again in a class he was teaching, he found himself removed from it. He didn't find the jokes quite as sharp and funny as he once found them to be. I wonder what he'd think of this film! However, I realize that it would simply be wrong to compare the two. Annie Hall is a classic romantic comedy, and Whatever Works is merely a classic's shell, without a lot going on in its interior.

The 411: Whatever Works has its moments and it is funny a lot of the way through. It's just that the film lacks the inspiration and energetic force that the best Woody Allen films possessed in spades. The film meanders and loses a sense of purpose once Melodie's love interest awkwardly stumbles into the picture (and what's with her mother's unnecessary menage a trois), and Boris' relationship with her reeks of a low rent retread of Manhattan. By the time we get to the picture's New Year's wrapup finale, we realize that Whatever Works simply doesn't. Maybe next year, Alvy, maybe next year.

Final Score:  6.0   [ Average ]