Woody Allen: A Documentary (2011)

Though not a theatrical release, "Woody Allen: A Documentary" merits inclusion here for a number of reasons. For one, the film is quite long, clocking in at close to three-and-a-half hours. (It originally aired on PBS's "American Masters" series in two parts.) And second, Woody Allen is having a banner year again, and I'll be posting a review of his latest, "Midnight in Paris," soon.

With the lengthy running time, director Robert B. Weide (an executive producer of HBO's "Curb Your Enthusiasm") is able to casually drop in on the majority of Allen's 40-plus feature film releases, showing key scenes from each as they relate to the discussions Allen and members of his casts or inner circle are having about that film or period in Allen's life. It's no surprise that a film of this length is quite comprehensive, taking the viewer from Allen's childhood and early days as a professional joke writer all the way through images of him filming his as-yet-unreleased 2012 picture.

As a long-time fan of Allen's work, I enjoyed lingering in the history of such a legend and perhaps picked up even more interesting factoids about Allen from discussions of his childhood. I was already somewhat familiar with Allen's philosophies on life and death, his work habits, and his personal and working relationships with 70s muse Diane Keaton and 80s muse Mia Farrow. That said, it was a stunning reminder of the productivity and creativity of those relationships to see all of that work stitched together here.

I particularly enjoyed Weide's use of interviews with various cast members from past Allen films. One of the most enlightening conversations is with Dianne Wiest, who, after having won an Oscar for Allen's "Hannah and Her Sisters," appears profoundly lost and feels miscast in 1994's "Bullets Over Broadway" and remains in the role only by Allen's urging and at the expense of Allen's production team. And, of course, the role would eventually score Wiest another Academy Award.

Film scholars address the "periods" of Woody Allen's career: his early years of flat-out, clever comedy with films like "Bananas" and "Sleeper," followed by his more serious, Bergman-inspired period which included "Interiors" and "Manhattan." His late-90s creative slump is explored, as is his recent resurgence with "Match Point," "Vicki Cristina Barcelona" and "Midnight in Paris."

In addition to Allen's successes and failures financially and critically, "Woody Allen: A Documentary" makes it clear to viewers that Allen sees basically all of his work as a failure on some level, his defeatist outlook allowing him to perpetually generate new work in pursuit of an unobtainable excellence. Many times, we roll our eyes when a genius downplays his abilitites; here, we truly sense that Allen doesn't fully believe that he knows what he's doing. And this explains a lot about him.

Allen's profound fear of dying is also discussed and tied thematically to a number of his works, and the template for the "Woody Allen character" in most of his films, whether played by Allen himself or someone else, is not directly explored but can be found underneath everything else presented here.

"Midnight in Paris" gets a lot of screentime in the documentary, and there are times when the film seems as much of a commercial for Allen's new movie as it does a comprehensive look back at his career. And, of course, with such a body of work, many of his films are not included at all, and I would have liked to hear what Allen thought of them. At one point, Allen casually mentions, for instance, that he really felt good about "Hollywood Ending." And yet, that movie appears to have failed. As someone who refuses press tours and home video director's commentaries, I would have loved to hear Allen speak about these experiences in a bit more detail.

Instead, a good deal of attention is paid on Allen's tabloid-fabulous split from Mia Farrow over his new relationship with her adopted daughter, Soon-Yi Previn. And although Woody was maligned by the mainstream media during those years in which a fierce child custody battle ensued, "Woody Allen: A Documentary" paints Allen as almost heroic during that time period due to his ability to compartmentalize his work from his personal life, and thus continuing on his film-a-year pace even during the most difficult times in his life.

I would definitely recommend "Woody Allen: A Documentary" to anyone seeking to understand just why Allen is a true auteur in the film world. The exposure one gains to a large chunk of his body of work certainly creates for viewers a wish list of films they will want to watch next; the documentary certainly sells Allen's body of work and generates or renews interest in in. The non-Allen fan would, of course, find such a long film to be rather painful. And the psycho fan might not get much new insight. Regardless, this is a good reminder of one of America's best filmmakers, and can cause us to be just as afraid of Allen's death as he is of it himself.