By Dan Cohen, NewsLanc’s Santa Monica Reporter
Let’s not spend too much time or energy trying to rank Woody Allen’s “Blue Jasmine” in the context of his many other career high points. Regardless of how it’ll be seen in the future, the movie is one of the very few satisfying dramas of 2013. It may be a light drama, and it may borrow from Tennessee William’s “Streetcar Named Desire,” but it stakes out its own territory and has been rewarded by critics and audiences with a long theatrical run. That run has been especially impressive because Allen’s 13th film in as many years is not an out and out comedy, like recent hits “Midnight in Paris,” and “Vicky, Christina, Barcelona.”
At this point in the release, anyone who follows Woody Allen knows that Cate Blanchett delivers a stand-out performance as the “Jasmine” of the title, and that she is a likely contender for a number of year-end awards. Her complex work as a displaced society wife on a slow but inevitable decline becomes ever more insightful as the story deepens. But the movie isn’t anything close to a bummer, and Blanchett stays true to it; even at her nadir she never solicits our pity. As a result the film plays as a lively, almost comic take on current mores among privileged elites, and their relationship to the rest of us.
Because the story hews so closely to Jasmine Frenchs’ missteps, Allen has faced accusations of misogyny, schadenfreude, (pleasure derived from the misfortune of others,) and general mean spiritedness, probably because his protagonist never triumphs over her circumstances. I suppose the same accusations could be leveled against Tolstoy for his “Anna Karenina,” Strindberg for “Miss Julie,” Flaubert for “Madame Bovary,” and a host of other literary giants whose female protagonists become the means of their own destruction. But the only way to prosecute this case is to strip the works from their context. In addition to disregarding the artistry–the very vitality at the core of these characters–you would have to cast them as part of a willful tradition of male-driven agitprop. But feminist criticism went down that road 40 or so years ago and the works have outlived its less than charitable scrutiny.
Getting back to “Blue Jasmine.” The movie’s script, also a likely candidate for year-end honors, is sly and knowing like the best of Allen’s work. As it began, I found the structure, which alternates between the past and present, amusing but overly familiar.
Although the early sequences are busy with information, they lack Allen’s usual comic sting. You keep waiting for certain moments to blossom into high comedy, but the tone remains steadfastly cool. Gradually, the flashbacks become more articulate in terms of detailing Jasmine’s dilemma; in the end the past and present converge into a coherent whole. By the time the credits play, Allen has cast a unique light on Jasmine French and her dilemma.
There’s a remarkable scene in the last act that changes everything that’s come before it and all that follows. Beyond that, it adds depth by showing how Jasmine responds to a crisis. Because many of you have yet to see the movie, and most will catch it on DVD or cable, I won’t reveal it here, but the moment is crucial to the script’s dramatic arch. As the consequences become clear you realize that Allen is in full control of his craft. Better yet, that his characters seem to have a life that extends beyond the manipulation of their creator.
“Blue Jasmine” has so far brought in 25 million in domestic box office, an impressive take for a drama. The number may seem small in comparison to the gross for a summer blockbuster like “World War Z,” which raked in 200 million at US theaters. But “Z,” like so many of its high priced brethren, cost 190 million to produce, before marketing costs of easily 20 – 30 million. “Blue Jasmine’s distributor, Sony, doesn’t like to talk about production budgets, but Allen’s “Midnight in Paris,” a more ambitious, period piece, cost about 17 million. One more note: the ad buys for Allen’s films are a fraction of a fraction of a summer blockbuster.
There’s a general impression among the public that Woody Allen is considered a marginal figure within the industry. While his films are made on modest budgets, a look at international grosses speaks loudly on his behalf. In 2011, “Midnight in Paris” brought in 150 million, worldwide. The next year “To Rome With Love,” considered one of his lesser efforts, grossed 75 million. In 2008 the haul for “Vicky, Christina, Barcelona,” reached 96 million. And back in 2005, “Match Point,” which the US distributor elected to promote without Allen’s name above the title, brought in 23 million domestically and another 65 worldwide. There have been far less successful titles along the way, like “Scoop,” which brought in 40 million, and “Cassandra’s Dream,” which grossed 21 million, but these numbers only account for theatrical distribution. They do not include the lucrative ancillaries; cable, broadcast TV, and home video. Now, is there any question that beyond the general acclaim of the chattering class, Allen is one of the world’s most successful filmmakers?
The Way Way Back
I neglected to talk about this lively independent comedy when it was released earlier in the summer, but it’s one of the few small movies that have managed to hold a berth in theaters for several months. With its offbeat characters and easy-going humor, it will undoubtedly recruit a larger following when the DVD becomes available.
Co-written and directed by the team of Nat Faxon and Jim Rash, who penned the screenplay for “The Descendents,” it’s a rambling coming of age comedy with a cast that includes Steve Carrell, Sam Rockwell, Toni Collette, Maya Rudolph, and Allison Janney, all of whom do their utmost to bring the lines to life.
Liam James, who played Mirielle Enos’ son on the first two seasons of “The Killing,” is the sullen protagonist, a teenager who hasn’t developed the skills to negotiate his mom’s crass and narcissistic boyfriend. When the boyfriend puts them up in his summer house, Duncan has no choice but to venture outside the family for support and companionship, which he finds in a down at the heels water park, managed by a crew of young adults indulging in their own brand of arrested development.
The script doesn’t have the kind of problem that drove “Juno,” or “Little Miss Sunshine,” and it takes James a while to win our affection, but the character actors that surround him, in particular Sam Rockwell, make up for the way the minor deficits.
Rockwell has the flashiest part, and he runs with it. His long-winded bits, some of which play like loopy improvisation, are a good fit for the script’s ragged structure. Also, keep a look out for AnnaSophia Robb, a young actress with fresh face and a confident demeanor; she’s soon to outgrow supporting roles.
