I must say that I was most resistant to this incredibly sweet Allen convection when I saw it, that first week out in NYC, where I live with my wife during summers.
I was reluctant for 2 reasons - Since I try to maintain a somewhat "with-it" posture with our NY friends, we all must be ready to comment on the latest Allen offering, especially this rather "different diversion" that we had heard about. This is not the kind of attitude for me to take into any non-serious fantasy. My other problem with Woody had to do with how much credit he received for his "original" screenwriting for his recent MatchPoint - I felt he really plagiarized the wonderful Steven's 1951 drama - A Place in the Sun. (more about later). So my attitude was really resistant to having him sell me on some fantastic drivel.
I must now admit that after our class discussion, and after talking it over with my wife and after thinking about my reactions while viewing MidNight some time ago, that this movie very definitely succeeds as a modern fantasy, and without a need for other, more sinister support. In fact, I contend that a disposition to question motivation here detracts from a really enjoyable diversionary experience. As my wife periodically advises me - "Get over it"!
While Braudy does, for my taste, spend too much time exploring how cinema comforts the hidden id, he also stresses how cinema's apparatus is uniquely suited to providing dream-like representations in fullfilling deep seated wishes. And Allen has tapped into, without argument, a very wide and deeply held dream of urbane and literate American audience - to have been able to witness and join in on the bohemian life with the Pantheon of literary ex-pats in Paris in the 20's - I'm certainly not that literate, but boy, how about it?
Allen is incredibly experienced in using cinematic technique to advance his story-line. And the one that kept me from remaining piggishly skeptical was the repeating of the midnight rendevous with his chaffeur driven limo. I remember wanting the narrative to hurry up to midnight, to find new characters, and to find out if Gill was going to wake up, or, hopefully, quit the suburban life and go native. (And wouldn't Braudy find irony here in a 20's limo providing motoricity to the fantasy?) Other noteworthy Allen pathways linking the current modern to the fantasy were the detective who got lost in what, the 18th century, and the scene where with Gertrude Stein's input, Gill questions the twitty snob's interpretation of an early modern work - how divinely Allen!
And the ending only works with this interpretation of innocence. The frustrated writer falls for the muses of Paris and a young beauty who understands him. So Hollywood, so romantic, and on some common, primevil level, so satisfying!
