I was in something of an anxious mood yesterday. Feeling morbidly apathetic and constantly on the verge of tears, I came to the conclusion that my Woody Allen boxset needed dusting off and a light switching on at the end of my… erm… dreary tunnel of nihilism. I may actually promote his collection of works to somewhere more prominent and close at hand in my flat, as anxiety and low mood attacks are a regular occurrence in this lonely household of one.
I’ve never been too big a fan of Allen’s early screwball comedies, having grown up on his straighter 80s stuff mostly. Hannah and Her Sisters is on one of my genre-specific top ten lists, the comedy/drama one, I believe. It doesn’t sit very well next to Star Wars. I’ve also not seen anything of Allen’s, apart from the wonderful Midnight in Paris, since Manhattan Murder Mystery. So, yeah, I’m definitely due a major catch-up!
But, out of all his cute early work, Love and Death is one I can watch over and over again. While I’m guessing not underrated, the film is certainly under-appreciated. Perhaps the idea of a comedy set during grim wartime in early-1800s Russia isn’t as exciting to some as it is to… well… nobody. I think that’s why I’d been putting off a viewing for decades too. It’s a shame really, as Love and Death is one of those comedies where, even when nothing particularly funny is happening onscreen, I’m chuckling merrily to myself at the overall tone.
On the surface, it’s a film parodying po-faced philosophical Russian literature while following the exploits of a bumbling peasant as he goes through the farce of war and ends up attempting to assassinate Napoleon. However, at it’s heart, Love and Death is really about how funny and pretty Diane Keaton is. It’s actually endearing how Allen essentially hands the movie over to her, even though he’s technically the star. I believe they are still friends to this day.
While some of the seemingly-improvised moments of comedy fall a bit short of the mark, the more well-crafted sketches will force you to press pause as you attempt to contain yourself. From Allen’s mother gleefully sending him off to die, to Keaton’s insincere words on her husband’s deathbed, to Allen making so much noise as he sneaks up behind Napoleon to shoot him, to rambling philosophical asides that lead nowhere. This style of comedy, which fights the mundanity of self-righteous conservatism with absurdist liberalism, is very dear to my heart.
The relatively brief appearance of Principal Strickland, as Napoleon, is lots of fun too, also proving that James Tolken is a much more versatile actor than my unfair reduction of his career gives him credit for. Just watch Dick Tracy (1990) and see if you can spot him!
Jessica Harper also turns up for the final scene, apparently in an attempt to try and out-pout Keaton. To give her some credit, she nearly succeeds. I believe Harper retired from acting after marrying a rich Hollywood producer. A noble pursuit indeed.
Well, that’s all I really have to say, other than maybe to recommend watching this in a double-bill with the same year’s Barry Lyndon. Both are great, subversive period comedies that not enough people have seen. Love and Death has just a pinch more art and subtlety to it though.
Do stay in touch, darlings.
Toodles!
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