Manhattan

Woody Allen wrapped up the ’70s with Manhattan, a film with faultless tone and beautiful black-and-white cinematography from Gordon Willis. The movie received two Academy Award nominations, one for Best Writing and one for Best Supporting Actress (Mariel Hemingway). AFI lists Manhattan at #46 on their “100 Years…100 Laughs” compilation and the U.S. Library of Congress has deemed it “culturally significant.”

Allen’s film is intricate, but not excessively so. The writer/director stars as Isaac Davis, a 42-year-old comedy writer with two divorces behind him. Long before George Constanza, he has a lesbian ex (Meryl Streep). Isaac is also in a relationship with a 17-year-old girl, Tracy (Hemingway), but he sees no future in it. While spending time with his friend Yale (Michael Murphy), Isaac discovers that he might be in love with Yale’s mistress, Mary (Diane Keaton).

Manhattan is about sorting out one’s closet, about living within the untidiness of relationships and emotions, and about establishing integrity. Isaac struggles in his relationship with Tracy, spending half of the film trying to break up with her. He loves spending time with her, yet doesn’t see a future in it because he doesn’t feel she is exceptional enough for him. Like many of the other characters in the film, save Tracy, Isaac is driven by his self-worth and by his sense of what he “deserves.”

Mary, too, is driven by what she “deserves.” She spends time with Yale, a married man, yet tells herself (and Yale) that she deserves better because she is gorgeous and intellectual. Yale is also driven by this same sense of pat superiority and this circle of individuals feeds off of one another continuously. Isaac’s only “out” lies with Tracy, yet his incapacity to be with her keeps him locked in the same rotation.

The splendour of Manhattan lies in the tangled sophistication of Allen’s characters. They rise like unlit skyscrapers over the title city and knit like telephone wires. The men in Allen’s film cannot deal with the notion of love, instead choosing to hide behind their words. This is likely why both men fall for Mary, who is the classic epitome of the pseudo-intellectual and provides them with a sense of similarity. Mary isn’t genuine in any way, shape, or form within her relationships, but she does give both men what they want.

It is Tracy who is more exigent, of course. The incongruity lies in her age, that she is able to be finally more grown-up than any other character in the film. She is the only character in the film that doesn’t live in the past and, as such, Allen has each other individual move around her like swirling moons. Tracy exists in the present, while Isaac, Yale, Mary, and the others all exist in the shards of past relationships. They all muse about what might have been, while only Tracy appears to have an incandescent outlook.

With this focus, Allen builds his Manhattan. It is a love letter about being in love in Manhattan. The music, Gershwin, elevates the proceedings even further and gives the film an everlasting feel. The locations, a veritable map of classic Manhattan landmarks, are brought to life with Willis’ cinematography and Allen’s direction. The visuals and the soundtrack create a perfect experience, giving true sensitivity to scenes in which characters simply eat Chinese food in bed.

Allen’s acting is good here. It is a misnomer to suggest that he plays the same character in all of his films, although many of his facial expressions and mannerisms are alike. Here, Allen’s Isaac may well be as gripping a character he’s ever played. He quits his job in a sudden sneezing attack of ethics, fulfills his yearnings based around reflective immaturity, and is intrinsically egocentric. In the end, we hope Tracy goes to London, lock, stock, and barrel. She must.

Woody Allen’s Manhattan stands out as one of his best films. It is profound, complex, elegant, amusing, and, at the same time, intensely vacant. There is a sort of depressing isolation to the film and we watch the characters swirl around each other without direction. There is a lack of impulse control, a lack of altruistic love, and in all probability a lack of authentic love within the hearts of most of these characters. Tracy, however, will go on with fond memories of Manhattan. And so will we.

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