Read the other reviews which hated this film for more detail, but I had to vent about this (so apologies for the lack of structure).
As others have pointed out, the 'tragedy or comedy?' premise becomes a lot less interesting once you realise that the characters and situations involved are utterly different. It is difficult to even see how the two Melindas are linked, except by name.
The film is often confusing, in that it's difficult to tell whether Woody Allen is actually being serious or not. I assumed that the opening of the 'tragic' section was some kind of in-joke. Although I'm a philistine and can't really appreciate the joys of opera, the way the characters stood in contemplation at classical music at a dinner party, looking utterly sombre, was an example. I was certain it was satirical, but apparently I was mistaken and to my horror the film sunk to new lows of pretension.
It is impossible to connect in any way with these characters simply because they are so far removed from actual human beings. I did not care when they discussed their desire to have sex with pregnant women, or when recalling that time when they cried at a piece of classical music because they are oh so sensitive and cultured. Or, in fact, anything they had to say at all, including their convoluted and implausible back stories and clumsy scene setting. I couldn't even sympathise with Johnny Lee Miller when he tired of the "obsequious banter", even though I was feeling the very same thing.
As others have pointed out, the 'tragedy or comedy?' premise becomes a lot less interesting once you realise that the characters and situations involved are utterly different. It is difficult to even see how the two Melindas are linked, except by name.
The film is often confusing, in that it's difficult to tell whether Woody Allen is actually being serious or not. I assumed that the opening of the 'tragic' section was some kind of in-joke. Although I'm a philistine and can't really appreciate the joys of opera, the way the characters stood in contemplation at classical music at a dinner party, looking utterly sombre, was an example. I was certain it was satirical, but apparently I was mistaken and to my horror the film sunk to new lows of pretension.
It is impossible to connect in any way with these characters simply because they are so far removed from actual human beings. I did not care when they discussed their desire to have sex with pregnant women, or when recalling that time when they cried at a piece of classical music because they are oh so sensitive and cultured. Or, in fact, anything they had to say at all, including their convoluted and implausible back stories and clumsy scene setting. I couldn't even sympathise with Johnny Lee Miller when he tired of the "obsequious banter", even though I was feeling the very same thing.