Blame it on the rain, but Shindigger lacked great motivation to hit the town last Monday night—even for the screening of Woody Allen’s new release, Blue Jasmine. The director was somewhere on the Côte d’Azur, we reasoned, so why should we bother?
Nonetheless, Shindigger worked up our party-boy spirit in time for the after-affair at Read More
“I’m in the south of France, so I can’t be there this evening,” began a note from Woody Allen that was read aloud before Monday night’s Peggy Siegal Company screening of his latest film, Blue Jasmine, at MoMA. “I only wish I was in New York and couldn’t be there.”
This fits the notoriously press-shy director’s M.O. During last summer’s premiere of To Rome, With Love, Mr. Allen braved the crowds for the red carpet before beating a hasty exit through some shrubbery to avoid the paparazzi, a feat that many of Jasmine’s stars can probably relate to.
“Jesus Christ,” muttered Louis C.K. as a rogue photographer broke ranks and began flashing blindingly bright lights into the corner where he and his former Parks and Recreation co-star Amy Poehler had sequestered themselves before the film. “Can you believe her?”
Ms. Poehler, in a somewhat more jovial mood, continued regaling the comedian with the story of her recent chat with President Barack Obama.
“He said, ‘Sasha and Malia just love you,’” Ms. Poehler informed Mr. C.K.
“Wait, who and who?” the Louie star deadpanned. “Okay, so what did you say?”
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: even on an off day, Woody Allen is better than everyone else on Sunday. But Blue Jasmine is not Woody between triumphs. This is the first-class work of a great talent at the top of his game, cooking on four burners with resolve and focus. This is Woody’s take on A Streetcar Named Desire, with Cate Blanchett combining aspects of her staggering stage performance in the recent Australian tour stopover of the Tennessee Williams classic at the Brooklyn Academy of Music with enough contemporary Diane Keaton neuroses to shed new light on the Freudian forces that drive modern Woody Allen heroines to glamorous self-destruction. Think Blanche DuBois meets Annie Hall. Then go immediately and grab the first available seat to the must-see movie of the summer.