Sony Pictures Classic
92 min., dir. by Woody Allen, with Larry David, Evan Rachel Wood, Patricia Clarkson, and Ed Begley, Jr.

The New Beverly Cinema in West Hollywood recently showed Woody Allen’s latest film from a few months back, Whatever Works. The film received mixed reviews upon its release; however, I was sorry that I didn’t get to see it at the time, so I rushed to check it out.

After a revelation convinced him that there is no higher purpose to human existence, Boris abandoned a perfect-on-paper marriage — via a failed suicide attempt — to live alone in a New York City apartment. Splitting his time between teaching chess, mulling his past glories as an almost-Nobel Prize winning physicist, and discussing his misanthropic philosophies with a group of friends, Boris finds a comfortable way to live in a world that he has little stake in. Returning home one night, he is confronted by Melodie, a beautiful young runaway who left her religious, conservative Southern family to pursue an acting career in New York City. Hard up, Melodie begs Boris for food and shelter; a month later she is still living with him. Beautiful yet nonintellectual, she soon takes on Boris’s worldview and — despite a huge age difference and objections from Boris — she convinces him to marry her. They live together happily for a year until Melodie’s mother, Marietta — fleeing a broken marriage and a lost fortune — arrives unannounced.

Marietta is aghast at Melodie’s choice for a husband and sets in motion a plan to land a younger, more suitable mate for her daughter. Meanwhile, Marietta transforms under New York City’s influence from upper-class, suburban housewife to fashionable, bohemian photographer who sleeps with multiple men. This transformation shocks her husband, John, who turns up months later seeking penance for his misdeeds.

The characters are fun, the way that they play off one another generates conflict, and the pacing and manner in which they are introduced into the film fits. The character transformation, relegated mainly to the supporting cast, is believable, yet a little too convenient. For example, Marietta’s transformation happens because she is a photographer strong enough to have her work instantly recognized and hung in a museum. John — although introduced to us in crisis — almost immediately settles into a new life through a chance encounter in a bar.

In fairness, it is part of the film’s premise that chance events can shift a life’s course in a moment. Also, the film smoothes over the characters’ transformations with flash forwards accompanied by Boris’s narration.

Yet, in the pacing of the narrative, the abruptness of these events comes across as too-deliberate supporting examples of the film’s theme. The protagonist lays out his worldview and then, over the course of the film, the rest of the cast serve as examples for why he is right. The characters do not seem fluid: they provide little push-back to the new life that Boris, his friends, and New York City presents, and they trade convictions easily. The result is that we accept certain events because we know that they could happen, but not necessarily because the film convinces us so.

The film’s ideas are interesting, and Boris, a less-than-subtle embodiment of these ideas, is fascinating to think about. He believes that he is a genius who has life figured out. His motto is that life is pointless and the best that we can do is to take what little bits of happiness chance offers so long as we don’t hurt others. It is a pragmatic view that contrasts with those of the Southern family that shows up one-by-one at his doorstep and who pray to God for answers.

Boris’s ability to see “the whole picture” allows him to narrate to the audience while the other characters — who lack his vision — wonder who he is speaking to. This ongoing joke shows how his “genius” status makes him separate from everyone else. The film asks the question: can someone who believes that they see the big picture co-exist in a world with others? On one hand, it must be tough to have a worldview that is so uniquely one’s own. On the other hand, perhaps Boris is able to be a genius because the world that he has mastered is rather small. His sphere of knowledge is limited mainly to the past: old music, old movies, and old books. His life is based around structure and comfort, and, until Melodie arrives, there is very little variation. While the other characters in the film embrace change, Boris does not.

Whatever Works is a flawed film whose characters — in spite of the criticisms above — I enjoyed and whose ideas I thought about afterwards. I don’t know that I can recommend it to those who aren’t already Woody Allen fans, but I liked it.