Woody Allen's Husbands and Wives tellingly came at the tale-end of his relationship with Mia Farrow, while he was already involved with Soon-Yi. Allen has always immersed himself and his personality in his films. In the 1970s he viewed himself in a more romantic vein, and his films sprang with hope and comedy amid neurosis. By the time his relationship with Farrow was about to come to its volcanic end, he is in the bitter grounds. The result is a film that becomes more and more uncomfortable and unpleasant to watch.
Allen casts himself and Farrow as the comfortably married couple whose relationship is fraying - he wants a child and she doesn't, she is drawn to a colleague at work (Liam Neeson) and they ignore each other at home. They are shocked when their friends, played by Sydney Pollack and Judy Davis, announce an amicable divorce. What does this mean for their relationship? Allen finds himself being drawn in by a 20-year old student (Juliette Lewis) with a penchant for flings with older men (and a self-confidence about herself and the torture she puts her men through" "I'm worth it" she states). Farrow is more and more drawn to Neeson, but she sabotages herself by setting him up with her newly divorced friend, Davis.
While the ground being covered by Allen is interesting, he clearly had little or no sympathy for his characters. All of them, even Neeson, who is romantic to the point of being dim, become more and more repellent as the film progresses. Scenes seem constructed simply so that the characters can have uncontrolled, outrageous emotional outbursts, and they do things that are unbelievable in their shortsightedness (SPOILERS BELOW): Allen's character, Gabe, is a professor and novelist. Attracted to Lewis, and not interested in the input from his wife, he entrusts a 20-year old with THE ONLY COPY OF HIS NEW NOVEL, which she loses in a taxi. While this might have been a believable plot twist prior to cheap and commercially available photocopying (say, the 1940s), by the 1990s, when word processors, hard drives, Kinko's et. al. are common, this is a unbelievable. Either the character is exceptionally stupid, or it's a plot device to provide conflict between Allen and Lewis. Neither explanation works in the context of the script. We already know Allen's relationship with Farrow is dying (both on screen and, as it turns out, in real life), so we don't need this episode as a way to force the characters together.
Allen should already be fleeing from Lewis. She has shown, with no hint of remorse, that she is a one-way train wreck and takes all of her older lovers with her. By showing only that dimension to her, and depending on Lewis' prettiness to draw men to the character, he is badly miscalculating the audience.
Farrow's character is just as bad. She hovers over Neeson at work in a manner that makes it obvious what her feelings are (to the viewer and, it would seem, everyone else in her office). Even at home, where she is cold to Allen and he oblivious to her, what could have been interesting scenes investigating the dynamic of alienation are wasted. These people have lost the ability to care about one another and don't even notice.
Neeson's Michael, the lone romantic, is also portrayed as stupid. Davis' character, in her first date with Neeson, is hypercritical and obnoxious about everything about their evening (she could have done the Alfredo sauce better, she doesn't like Mahler, she criticizes the way Michael drives etc. etc.), yet Michael is somehow attracted to her. How? He hasn't been shown to be a masochist. Davis is shrewish and antagonistic - there is nothing in the slightest appealing about her. At work, Farrow hovers over him in a manner that even an alien to the species would not mistake. She couldn't be more obvious if she doffed her clothes and sat down on his desk with her legs spread.
Sydney Pollack fares no better. Having left his wife, he takes up with a sexy aerobics instructor (Lysette Anthony). Unfortunately, she is dim, and argues about the veracity of astrology at parties. Having learned his wife is in a new relationship, Pollack suddenly becomes jealous, gets into a screaming fight with Anthony at the party, and high tails it over to his ex-wife, GIRLFRIEND IN TOW, to confront her and Neeson. One clever end to this would have been Neeson and Anthony, who are simultaneously ignored by their paramours, bonding and falling in love with one another, although Allen makes this impossible by making Anthony's character too stupid. Pollack and Davis get back together, Neeson is heartbroken and eventually soothed by Farrow, who leaves Allen. Allen is the only one who winds up alone.
Being forced to watch ostensibly intelligent characters ignore the obvious and then be subject to their tantrums is made worse by Allen's pursuit of a cinema verite aspect - the use of a jerky hand-held camera zooming around from character to character while they make their pronouncements. Allen is never a bad filmmaker, but he has made an uncomfortable and unpleasant film. Of his introspective 90's work I felt Deconstructing Harry worked better. Of course, comedies such as Bullets Over Broadway and Mighty Aphrodite are also quite worthwhile.
Allen casts himself and Farrow as the comfortably married couple whose relationship is fraying - he wants a child and she doesn't, she is drawn to a colleague at work (Liam Neeson) and they ignore each other at home. They are shocked when their friends, played by Sydney Pollack and Judy Davis, announce an amicable divorce. What does this mean for their relationship? Allen finds himself being drawn in by a 20-year old student (Juliette Lewis) with a penchant for flings with older men (and a self-confidence about herself and the torture she puts her men through" "I'm worth it" she states). Farrow is more and more drawn to Neeson, but she sabotages herself by setting him up with her newly divorced friend, Davis.
While the ground being covered by Allen is interesting, he clearly had little or no sympathy for his characters. All of them, even Neeson, who is romantic to the point of being dim, become more and more repellent as the film progresses. Scenes seem constructed simply so that the characters can have uncontrolled, outrageous emotional outbursts, and they do things that are unbelievable in their shortsightedness (SPOILERS BELOW): Allen's character, Gabe, is a professor and novelist. Attracted to Lewis, and not interested in the input from his wife, he entrusts a 20-year old with THE ONLY COPY OF HIS NEW NOVEL, which she loses in a taxi. While this might have been a believable plot twist prior to cheap and commercially available photocopying (say, the 1940s), by the 1990s, when word processors, hard drives, Kinko's et. al. are common, this is a unbelievable. Either the character is exceptionally stupid, or it's a plot device to provide conflict between Allen and Lewis. Neither explanation works in the context of the script. We already know Allen's relationship with Farrow is dying (both on screen and, as it turns out, in real life), so we don't need this episode as a way to force the characters together.
Allen should already be fleeing from Lewis. She has shown, with no hint of remorse, that she is a one-way train wreck and takes all of her older lovers with her. By showing only that dimension to her, and depending on Lewis' prettiness to draw men to the character, he is badly miscalculating the audience.
Farrow's character is just as bad. She hovers over Neeson at work in a manner that makes it obvious what her feelings are (to the viewer and, it would seem, everyone else in her office). Even at home, where she is cold to Allen and he oblivious to her, what could have been interesting scenes investigating the dynamic of alienation are wasted. These people have lost the ability to care about one another and don't even notice.
Neeson's Michael, the lone romantic, is also portrayed as stupid. Davis' character, in her first date with Neeson, is hypercritical and obnoxious about everything about their evening (she could have done the Alfredo sauce better, she doesn't like Mahler, she criticizes the way Michael drives etc. etc.), yet Michael is somehow attracted to her. How? He hasn't been shown to be a masochist. Davis is shrewish and antagonistic - there is nothing in the slightest appealing about her. At work, Farrow hovers over him in a manner that even an alien to the species would not mistake. She couldn't be more obvious if she doffed her clothes and sat down on his desk with her legs spread.
Sydney Pollack fares no better. Having left his wife, he takes up with a sexy aerobics instructor (Lysette Anthony). Unfortunately, she is dim, and argues about the veracity of astrology at parties. Having learned his wife is in a new relationship, Pollack suddenly becomes jealous, gets into a screaming fight with Anthony at the party, and high tails it over to his ex-wife, GIRLFRIEND IN TOW, to confront her and Neeson. One clever end to this would have been Neeson and Anthony, who are simultaneously ignored by their paramours, bonding and falling in love with one another, although Allen makes this impossible by making Anthony's character too stupid. Pollack and Davis get back together, Neeson is heartbroken and eventually soothed by Farrow, who leaves Allen. Allen is the only one who winds up alone.
Being forced to watch ostensibly intelligent characters ignore the obvious and then be subject to their tantrums is made worse by Allen's pursuit of a cinema verite aspect - the use of a jerky hand-held camera zooming around from character to character while they make their pronouncements. Allen is never a bad filmmaker, but he has made an uncomfortable and unpleasant film. Of his introspective 90's work I felt Deconstructing Harry worked better. Of course, comedies such as Bullets Over Broadway and Mighty Aphrodite are also quite worthwhile.