Watching all of Woody Allen's films in order: Broadway Danny Rose (1984)

Then Another addition to the list of films watched in the Leeds Metropolitan University library. I remember being very impressed with the structure and it was one of the films which began the expansion of my understanding of what film was capable of and on reflection how generic the kinds of films I’d been a fan of actually were in terms of story.

Now And that structure is a useful reminder of how static some forms of filmmaking can be, especially the documentary. Though Broadway Danny Rose features a coterie of old school comedian’s chatting about a fictional “colleague”, it’s very surprising that this format hasn’t been used to tell a real life story as a variation of the talking heads employed in the likes of Man on Wire or Touching The Void.

Obviously it’s impossible sometimes to gather the participants together easily either because of geography or estrangement and as anyone who’s listened to some dvd commentaries gathering together old friends after many years will attest its difficult to keep old friends gathered together after many years on point. But it would be an interesting exercise to structure the reconstruction of an event with testimony offered from around a table.

We all know a Danny Rose, someone who almost only seems to exist in stories and might as well since he never seems to be invited to the kinds of gatherings where such stories are told. The presence of these comedians helps to authenticate him, as does the appearance of Milton Berle, Mr. Television, someone I was aware of enough to say, “Ooh, Milton Berle!” when he was first mentioned on screen. Not that I was able to then recognise Berle when he wandered onto the screen until someone pointed him out.

The director really enjoys revelling in the absurdist elements, the acts that Rose manages, like the glass player or the performing birds, and the sudden appearance of a superhero in the apparent wilderness. It’s very Fellini-like visually, with photographer Gordon Willis often filling the frame with the caricature-like faces of the mobster that are on Rose’s trail. New York is also once again shot in a very different, matter of fact, way, like The Front, not wanting to draw attention to itself.

Woody’s essentially playing an aggressively vivid version of his usual on-screen persona which at times strays very close to Mark Kermode’s impression of him, all nebbish gesturing and opening mouthed gaping. Mia’s an excellent foil and strikes a startling pose with her long legs and giant shades which cover half of her face transforming her into something of a vamp. We’re now well into the period when Allen was writing directly for her, challenging her, but the pixyish manifestation from Rosemary’s Baby has all but dissipated.