The Woodman Goes Out On A Limb

I'm a huge follower of Woody's work, from the very beginning (even got to meet him in his Play It Again Sam Broadway dressing room in NYC a long time back). Some of his movies are disappointing, but most of them have delighted me, even the more serious ones, like Interiors and C&M. This one is a real departure of sorts, not necessarily in the subject matter but rather in the execution. Gone are the nauseating jumpy camera moves from Husbands & Wives (which I liked nonetheless, what can I tell ya), gone are the snappy one-liners, gone is the jazzy soundtrack, gone is his beloved New York City. Instead, we get slow, subtle panning shots, arch dialogue with hardly any obvious humor to them, an opera soundtrack, and London, of all places. It works, though, this noir-ish concoction; it lures you in, sweeps you along and then it turns the screws in a most surprising way, leaving the viewer - this viewer, anyway - entirely jaw-dropped.

This is a thought-provoking work that no doubt has precipitated many philosophical discussions, and for that alone it's a winner. Not quite perfect, however - some of the dialog feels a little phony, the opera gets a little bit much in places, and some of the plot points are a tad heavy-handed. I forgive Woody for this. The Big Question is (aside from the question of karma): can his leading character in the movie genuinely forgive himself for what he does, in the name of 'survival'?