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Review: ‘Manhattan Murder Mystery’ is More Tepid Woody Allen Work
As is often the case, this Woody Allen comedy spends as much time being annoying as it does being funny
I am, a little infamously, not a fan of Woody Allen. That seems to be becoming a more popular opinion to have in the last few years, but I’ve received quite a bit of flack over the years for my disregarding of most of what are considered to be his major works.
Manhattan Murder Mystery, which we’ll discuss in a moment, is my 20th Woody Allen film (of ones he directed, not ones he has starred in) so evidently there is at least something intriguing with his work. The truth is that there are three exceptions to my dislike of Allen’s body of work, two minor and one major. The two minor exceptions are Irrational Man, which is carried by its light footed absurdity and good duo of performances from Emma Stone and Joaquin Phoenix, and Hannah and her Sisters which I actually used to adore but have grown away from a bit. The major disruption, the film that convinces me to keep giving Woody Allen that ‘one more try’, is the wonderful The Purple Rose of Cairo which is just a beautiful romantic comedy. It’s terrific, and I can’t fault it much at all. It’s been a while since I’ve seen it now, but my memories of it are so warm.
