My Allergic Reaction To Woody Allen’s Blue Jasmine
Woody Allen has finally become his own parody. His characters could exist nowhere but in the movies. His idea of San Francisco is laughable.
Woody Allen has finally become his own parody. His characters could exist nowhere but in the movies. His idea of San Francisco is laughable.
“Walter, just because you shot Jesse James doesn’t make you Jesse James.”
“It’s over. We’re safe. I won.”
“This is what comes of blood for blood.”
Jesse is the tragic figure in Breaking Bad. Used by everyone, never exactly sure what’s going on, he just wants to be loved, but does anybody truly care for him?
“Walter, you’re never gonna see him again.”
“If you take my advice, you’ll become one of the great balloon-folding acts of all time! Really, ’cause I don’t just see you folding balloons in joints. You listen to me, you’re gonna fold balloons at universities and colleges!”
“Run.”
“There is no more room for error, not with these people.”
I’ll give this to Lars von Trier: his movies are not ordinary movies. Clearly, this is the only reason I continue, now and again, to watch them, because in most every other respect they are wretched.
“I have made a series of very bad decisions.”
Walt has thrown into motion the gears of a vast machine, one he has no control over, and, as the season begins, one he has no knowledge of having kicked into action.
Are you a woman? Do you want to make a man do your bidding? There’s one sure-fire, time-tested method for success. Spread your legs for him. Or, better yet—don’t spread your legs for him.
Action! Terror! Horror! Monster fight! Yes, my friends, it’s the film battle we’ve all been waiting for, in which we pit monsters fighting monsters against monsters fighting robots!