Woody and I Are Through

I held out as long as I could, but Woody and I are through. I went to see "Vicky Christina Barcelona" last night. Oy.

It's hard to put one's finger on why Woody's movies suck so much these days. There's been this string of just bad movies, and yet he still churns them out, and I keep watching them, holding out some hope that there will be a glimmer of something I once admired.

Woody Allen was always one of my heroes (the movie maker part, not the other part). But now I have to let it go. This movie just has nothing much going on. I was bored 10 minutes in, and I stuck around because I'd heard about the "amazing" performance by Penelope Cruz. It's not amazing. Nothing is. It's not funny. It's not dramatic.

The movie's getting good reviews, and I suspect that's from Woody fans who still hold out hope that he might actually make a movie to love again. But it's not going to happen. The goodwill is all used up with flubs like "Scoop, "Match Point," "Melinda and Melinda," "Anything Else," "Curse of the Jade Scorpion," "Small Time Crooks," "Celebrity," etc.

In the case of Woody Allen, "complete creative control" has suddenly become a really bad thing.

So, you're being cut loose, Woody. It's admirable that you make a movie a year, but maybe it's time to make a GOOD movie every five years.

I'm done hoping that you'll someday decide to just do what you used to be the best at. I suspect you don't because, sadly, you just can't. Stevie Wonder can't write another "Songs in the Key of Life." Gary Marshall simply doesn't have another "Pretty Woman" in him. There's never going to be another "Purple Rain" for Prince.

Sometimes you just have to let go.