James Joyce, Mozart, and Sodomy

I could probably do an entire PhD thesis on how the differences and similarities between ANNIE HALL and WHEN HARRY MET SALLY showcase the two different sides of my personality but that would be boring. Unless I included nudity. But let’s address the bigger issue first.

I just saw ANNIE HALL for the first time today.

I know, I’m ashamed. I love Woody Allen and I love romantic comedies and I love New York. But somehow I just never got around to watching it. Maybe I thought I’d already seen it. But today I was fiddling around with the On Deman movie section in my new cable box and came across it and decided today was the day. And oh what a day it is.

My thought process about this movie is still forming but it’s quickly becoming representitive of everything I know and love about my own writing. It’s self-referencial and post-modern and witty and sarcastic and dry. And it has an animated section with Woody Allen and the evil queen from Snow White. Ok, so maybe it doesn’t COMPLETELY represent my writing.

But I love the ending where he takes all of these experiences and writes them up as a play. I know it’s been done in other movies but it works so perfectly here. I can’t even really come up with a coherent course of action to talk about this movie right now. But after I was done seeing I just knew I had to write about it.

I can’t say that I know prefer it over WHEN HARRY MET SALLY because I still like the innocence and optimistic charm of WHMS. Billy Crystal is not Woody Allen. Sometimes I’m in a mood for Fall in NY and Harry Connick Jr. and Christmas music over two lovers buying a tree in the city. But there are days I want to see Christmas music over two Jewish boys driving through Beverly Hills.

Wow, just great stuff. Now why didn’t I feel this way when I finally saw CHINATOWN?