Amerikan Rambler

How Woody Allen Saved New York

Some people say that Rudy Giuliani saved New York City. Actually, it was Woody Allen. In the 1970s, movies emphasized the darker aspects of New York. Films like Dog Day Afternoon, The French Connection, The Taking of Pelham 123, and Taxi Driver depicted NYC as a dangerous and violent place, where desperate men could do little to free themselves from the urban horror in which they lived. Even as late as the early 1990s, Saturday Night Live was doing skits with Kevin Nealon and Joe Mantegna featuring two radio hosts who struggled to convince listeners that NYC was not a crime-ridden, rat infested hellhole, despite the fact that a caller recently had been doused with gasoline, set on fire, and thrown off a roof. Sure, 70s movies are great, but they’re pretty damn gritty. I mean, would you rather spend a weekend with Woody Allen or Travis Bickle?

Woody’s movies, in comparison to the existential terrors of Taxi Driver, were light, funny, and they had a deep, undying love for all things New York. Annie Hall and Manhattan were Seinfeld before there was Seinfeld. They are not heavy on plot, but you shouldn’t expect plot from early Allen. That’s what Match Point is for. No, Annie Hall and Manhattan involve the Wood Man navigating through a series of doomed, but quirky relationships, where he provides a running commentary on developments in his love life. In the end, Woody doesn’t get Annie or Tracy, but like the Jewish people, he will endure.

In a time when New York was scary, crime-ridden, and broke, Allen had an irreverent, but ultimately life affirming take on NYC. Yes, there were Son of Sam and Sam Berkowitz lurking around, but there was also great pizza, the majesty of the Brooklyn Bridge, and the New York Philharmonic. What were you gonna do, Allen all but taunted us, move to the sprawling wastes of L.A.? New York, Woody assured us, was where it was at. Woody, furthermore, was well read, an art and film aficionado, but he wasn’t a snob. He knew he was just as badly of as the rest of the schlubs on the street.

Oddly, the darker NYC was, the brighter Allen made it. By the 1980s, the decade of greed, Regan, and Gordon Gecko of Wall Street, Allen’s work suffered. Everybody was making money, but NYC had lost its soul. Instead, Allen made darker films like September, September. And today, ironically, Allen doesn’t really make NY movies anymore. Match Point was great, but it was set in London. And a movie like Vicky Christina Barcelona has Allen taking us through a lover’s travelogue of Spain. Woody still makes the occasional NY movie, like Whatever Works, but that was based on an old script. Woody has become an expat. And not only has he removed himself from New York, he’s removed himself from his own movies.

In the 1970s, Allen was writing love letter after love letter to New York. His films were as much about the city as they were about him. But by the 1990s, the city didn’t need him anymore. People were watching Seinfeld and Friends, which had their own take on the biggest city in America. Yet, what is Seinfeld but a nine year long Woody Allen movie? George is the nebbish Allen character run amok. True, George is based on Larry David, but we wouldn’t have Seinfeld were it not for Allen’s films. For on Seinfeld, we get the same Allenesque themes: creaky relationships, consequence-free sex, people that range from eccentric to neurotic, tons of observational humor, and unselfconscious Jewish references.

By the mid-90s, New York had rebounded. Giuliani cleaned up the streets. The economy boomed. The crime rate plunged, eventually making NYC safer than Chicago or L.A. It still is. But rather than thank a couple of Republican mayors, New York should thank Woody Allen. In the darkest days of the Big Apple, Woody was the one guy who still seemed to love the place. Lately, he says he is in his “nihilist phase.” But that wasn’t true in the 1970s. It was New York that seemed nihilistic. Yet, there was Woody, doing his shtick. Making us laugh. And proving that humor helps turn things around. Unlike everyone else, amid urban blight, Woody still thought New York was a pretty cool place.

(Source: anneyhall)

(Source: neoretro)

Beale Street in Memphis.

Beale Street in Memphis.

Elvis is everywhere. Or at least should be. Memphis, baby!

Beale Street in Memphis.

Orpheum Theatre in Memphis.

Main Street in Memphis.

Downtown Memphis.

(Source: keepcalmandlovecarolynjones)