Whatever Works Doesn't

Woody Allen's new film, Whatever Works, brings Larry David into the character once held by Woody himself, and the similarity between the two men becomes all too familiar very early. Obviously Allen has had an enormous influence on David (who appeared in minor roles in two prior Allen films before Larry gained his reputation as co-creator of Seinfeld and then creator of Curb Your Enthusiasm).

This is essentially a film, clever in parts, about cranky, old Jewish men obsessed with death and existentialism, but with stagnant and infantile sexual fantasies about beautiful, young, stupid women whom they insult by feeling superior and don't miss an opportunity to admit throughout the film.

Now when Woody was younger, i.e. in the Annie Hall days, which I just rewatched and let me tell you, it held up and is still a delight, his fascination with stunning women, the schlemiel and the beauty, was humorous. The short, unattractive, but brilliant Jewish man and his shiksa--Diane Keaton, Mia Farrow-- made for the humor that made America laugh in the 1970s. We all adored him, because inside we were as insecure as Woody, perhaps not as funny, however.

But now, with Woody Allen at the age of 74, and Larry David, his alterego in the film at 61, this obsession with stupid, beautiful women over whom they have magical powers, it isn't funny. It's closer to pathetic.

Don't get me wrong: there is some interesting writing, some surprises in plot, and Patricia Clarkson is dynamite. But it's all about male fantasies, and frankly, since 1965, when he wrote his first screenplay, What's New Pussycat?, we have seen the same Woody Allen film over and over (except for Match Point). And as an aging woman myself, that he hasn't changed his obsession is illustrative of what's wrong with male-dominated media: women as crones are discarded, invisible, disappeared.

Well, Woody, I'm very much here, as are my beautifully aging friends, who happen to be less rigid, none of whom are cranky, and who seem more delighted in the freedom of aging than the men you portray in your films. And the cruelty of the Larry David character is not cute, it's misogynistic. I adore Curb Your Enthusiasm, but taking Larry for more than a half hour is trying on my nerves. So maybe, Woody, it's time to retire?