"Chapter one."
"He adored New York City. He idolized it all out of proportion. "
Uh, no. Make that "He romanticized it all out of proportion. "
So I finally watched Manhattan in its entirety tonight. I'd seen bits and pieces here and there, but never the beginning and never the entire movie. WOW! There is so much I loved about this movie...so very. very much. I've always been a fairly outspoken Annie Hall fan, and truth be told there are still element of Annie Hall I like better (i.e. the characters and the actual storyline), however I think Manhattan has edged its way to the top of my Favorite Woody Allen Films list. Visually it kicks Annie Hall's ass. Manhattan might have one of the most fabulous soundtracks of any movie EVER...and that's taking into account Singles AND Valley Girl. I know, right!? Anyway, this is the kind of movie you'd expect at the end of someone's career...that's how profound I thought this movie was. I feel that way about Synecdoche, NY as well and after I saw it was honestly worried it ultimately meant that Charlie Kaufman had to die or retire from film making. How do you follow something like that up? I love seeing films or hearing music or reading books or seeing theatre that ignites something in me that I forgot was there. I think we all become a little jaded after a while, especially those of us who are artists ourselves, to how powerful art can really be. That moment when art touches something so deep inside of you that it overwhelms you...hearing a song for the first time and that electric/almost spiritual reaction on your body and in your soul, being so enveloped by a book that you are depressed when its over and you're no longer in that world, or being so moved by a play that when the cast comes out for a curtain call you are weeping...and the show was a musical comedy. I got a little verklempt at the end of Manhattan tonight. The tingle means its working.
So, kids...why is life worth living?
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