Melinda and Melinda

Melinda and Melinda

Woody Allen (2004)

Two writers – one of comedies, the other of tragedies (sic) – debate whether life is essentially tragic or comic.  One of their dinner companions tells an anecdote about a woman arriving uninvited at a dinner party; the writers explain where they would take this scenario according to the genre in which they write, and Melinda and Melinda consists of these two dramatisations, with occasional returns to the debating quartet in the New York restaurant.  The serious half is scored by classical music, especially Stravinsky and Bartok; the comic half by tunes more familiar in Woody Allen films – swing and big band arrangements of standards like ‘The Best Things in Life Are Free’ and ‘Don’t Get Around Much Anymore’.  In the drama, it’s messed-up Melinda who’s the sexual egotist and continually thwarted; in the comedy, Melinda is peripheral to Hobie, an actor who gets more work doing commercial voiceovers than acting jobs.  Otherwise, there’s little difference between the two halves.  That may well be Allen’s point:  he may be expressing frustration with critics and audiences who want his films to be either/or, insisting that, if they’re about the human condition, they will always include both grim and comic elements. If this is what he has in mind, he achieves his intention by making both parts of Melinda and Melinda unfunny.  Since this is a Woody Allen movie, it feels like a raw deal.

Radha Mitchell isn’t strong or distinctive enough for the leading role as the two Melindas.  Hobie is the Woody Allen character (so too, to a lesser extent, is the comedy writer in the framing device, played by Wallace Shawn) – many are called for this role but few make a success of it, and Will Ferrell isn’t one of the latter.  Nearly every line that he speaks carries with it an echo of how it would have been delivered by the man by and for whom it was written.  In the comic half, Josh Brolin and, in an early big screen role, Steve Carell register.  Brolin is the sleek jerk that Hobie’s film director wife (Amanda Peet) tries to pair Melinda off with; Carell is Hobie’s pal – although it’s a nondescript role, Carell gives it a bit of individuality.   Jonny Lee Miller has a much bigger part in the serious half as a tediously narcissistic actor.  Miller’s appearance here foreshadows the succession of uninteresting young British men Allen has developed a liking for casting in recent years.  It’s fortunate, therefore, that, in the same part of the movie, there’s also an interesting young British actor.  As a would-be classical composer, Chiwetel Ejiofor has warmth and charm and a human texture that are otherwise in very short supply here.  The best thing about Melinda and Melinda is that Ejiofor pairs off with Chloë Sevigny (as Miller’s wife), who brings similar qualities to the screen.  This poor film is handsomely shot by Vilmos Zsigmond although, as Sally pointed out, the palette is very limited – it’s all beiges and pinks and fawns.  Ejiofor, the only black performer in a large cast, can’t fail to stand out in this colour scheme and Sevigny gives off a golden glow.

15 July 2012

Author: Old Yorker