Hollywood Ending. The cinematic equivalent of watching Muhammad Ali in the waning years. Actually, in that I have always felt Woody Allen was overrated, it’s more like watching Larry Holmes in the waning years.
My how the semi-mighty have fallen, where Diane Keaton, Diane Wiest, and Mia Farrow are replaced by Tea Leone, Debra Messing and Tiffany-Amber-Thiessen. Worse, Woody Allen remains the love interest, Leoni is the ex-wife, and the films sports Allen and Leoni. The image is revolting.
Moreover, the film lacks one funny premise, line or sketch. Allen plays Allen, arms waving and neuroses on all cylinders. And oh does he have some subversive and nudge-nudge things to say about filmmaking. Har har har. You see. Nyuk nyuk nyuk. Allen is directing a $60 million picture. He he he. And he’s stricken by psychosomatic blindness. Te he he. But he makes the film anyway, and in the process, reunites with his ex-wife. And again, they kiss (just vile – you’re praying his teeth do not fall out). And guess what? In the end, the French love the film. Ho ho ho.
It is the worst film of 2002, certainly on of Allen’s worst and perhaps the worst film of the millennium. In the face of Hollywood Ending, saying “Well, Allen directed Annie Hall and Hannah and Her Sisters,” is like saying “Well, Hitler built the Autobahn.”