ANNIE HALL (1977) directed by Woody Allen
I love this movie for more reasons than I have time to count. I love it for being stylistically groundbreaking - from it’s photography and staging to it’s non-linear narrative and everything in between. I love it for perhaps being the most honest and intimate portrait of a romance ever - from a sandwich to chocolate milk and every lobster and spider in between. But that’s not why it’s here. It’s here because, every which way you look at it, it is funnier than it should be. Far funnier. And I love it for that. So let’s take a moment to dissect how Allen might have achieved this by breaking apart one specific joke and putting it back together again. Ready? Ok. Here’s the joke: one man asks another, “With your wife in bed, does she need some kind of artificial stimulation like marijuana?” The man replies, “We use a large vibrating egg”. So you’ve got that joke. What Woody could have done was sit himself down and crack open the rulebook. It would have told him to set this scene in a deli and have a frantic, frustrated Alvy ask this question to the man behind the counter. We know they are friends because he will establish as much in a pervious scene where the deli man already knows Alvy’s order. Now have Deli Man give the vibrating egg answer. If someone finds this funny, Woody gets a laugh. Fair exchange - one joke for one laugh. But Woody didn’t do that. He threw out that rulebook… which must have been easy because it only ever existed in other people’s heads to begin with. Instead, he sketched out a blueprint that only existed in his head. Stepping back from the drawing board he found himself with this scene instead: a frantic, frustrated Alvy seems to spontaneously go off script and stop a man who we assume is a passing background extra and asks him the aforementioned question. Turns out the man is not an extra because he expertly delivers the vibrating egg answer. Alvy and the man move on, unfazed by an encounter that stomps on all logic and represents zero reality. Suddenly, his never-before-seen design has surprised the audience, which could now result in someone laughing for two reasons - the egg line is funny and the unexpectedness of it’s delivery is funny. The exchange is now in Woody’s favour - two laughs for the price of one joke. He’s winning (and/or richer). I believe this is how he ended up with a movie not only twice as funny as anything he’d made prior, but funny in such a different way. Because when something funny happens, which in this case is extremely often, he goes out of his way to make sure that how, why, when and where it hits you is also funny - even if getting there sacrifices all logic or reality. The result is the moment Woody Allen stops imitating and starts inspiring, which changed things forever. If the romanic comedy genre was a tangle of gags and riddles, he told the first knock-knock joke. He created a super simple, instantly familiar template that nearly anyone who has ever gone for a laugh has fallen back on at least once if not a dozen times. Of course, if you’re one of these said inspired jokesters you must remember two key things - one: Allen is a genius. So you’ll have to be one too to make something like this. And two: he had the advantage of being first out of the gate, and of doing so with Brickman and Keaton by his side, whom probably deserve just as much credit as Woody gets. Oh, and those two editors. I forget their names. Good luck without them.
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