Amor y muerte

In this somewhat familiar story, the now-70-year-old Woody Allen plays a rambling stage magician in London who gets unwillingly roped into helping a young woman (Scarlett Johansson) find out the true identity of a potential serial killer (Hugh Jackman). The girl is an aspiring reporter who receives a tip from the spirit of a recently deceased writer that Jackman may be her man.

Woody had just made the superior and steamy drama MATCH POINT (2005) with Scarlett Johansson and was probably taken with her, so he tried casting her here alongside himself in something comical. At least he's beginning to realize he has become too long in the tooth to continue playing younger girls' love interests, and so he assumes the role of go-between mentor to the two young leads. Unsurprisingly, Jackman and Johansson are destined to become romantically involved as Scarlett pursues her investigation. Hugh Jackman is fine in his part, and though upon my first viewing of this I didn't quite buy Johansson's performance, a second look found her characterization working for me.

This film is only occasionally humorous and rather middle of the road as far as the director's overall dossier is concerned. I'm always game to continue seeing Woody cast himself in his own future comedies, so long as he keeps writing them more in line with his advancing age. Who knows, maybe he can make a senior citizen type of farce one day. **1/2 out of ****

I thought this was a wonderful way to spend time on a too hot summer weekend, sitting in the air conditioned theater and watching a light-hearted comedy. The plot is simplistic, but the dialogue is witty and the characters are likable (even the well bread suspected serial killer). While some may be disappointed when they realize this is not Match Point 2: Risk Addiction, I thought it was proof that Woody Allen is still fully in control of the style many of us have grown to love.

This was the most I'd laughed at one of Woody's comedies in years (dare I say a decade?). While I've never been impressed with Scarlet Johanson, in this she managed to tone down her "sexy" image and jumped right into a average, but spirited young woman.

This may not be the crown jewel of his career, but it was wittier than "Devil Wears Prada" and more interesting than "Superman" a great comedy to go see with friends.

I went to the movie theater this afternoon expecting to be underwhelmed by Scoop. Happily, the film exceeded expectations, at least a little bit. It's nothing heavy, nothing deep -- and not anywhere as good as any number of real Allen masterpieces -- but it's also completely enjoyable as a light, bantering comedy. There's something kind of simple and sweet about it. "Cute" was the word I heard from people in the audience as they were walking out after the show. It doesn't feel like Allen set out to create a masterpiece here, it feels like he wanted to make a little comedy and have fun doing it. Compared to just about everything Hollywood is producing, Allen's stuff has a tendency to charm. Even the fluffy stuff. These days it's just refreshing to go to a movie made by an actual human being.

"Scoop" is also the name of a late-Thirties Evelyn Waugh novel, and Woody Allen's new movie, though set today, has a nostalgic charm and simplicity. It hasn't the depth of characterization, intense performances, suspense or shocking final frisson of Allen's penultimate effort "Match Point," (argued by many, including this reviewer, to be a strong return to form) but "Scoop" does closely resemble Allen's last outing in its focus on English aristocrats, posh London flats, murder, and detection. This time Woody leaves behind the arriviste murder mystery genre and returns to comedy, and is himself back on the screen as an amiable vaudevillian, a magician called Sid Waterman, stage moniker The Great Splendini, who counters some snobs' probing with, "I used to be of the Hebrew persuasion, but as I got older, I converted to narcissism." Following a revelation in the midst of Splendini's standard dematerializing act, with Scarlett Johansson (as Sondra Pransky) the audience volunteer, the mismatched pair get drawn into a dead ace English journalist's post-mortem attempt to score one last top news story. On the edge of the Styx Joe Strombel (Ian McShane) has just met the shade of one Lord Lyman's son's secretary, who says she was poisoned, and she's told him the charming aristocratic bounder son Peter Lyman (Hugh Jackman) was the Tarot Card murderer, a London serial killer. Sondra and Sid immediately become a pair of amateur sleuths. With Sid's deadpan wit and Sondra's bumptious beauty they cut a quick swath through to the cream of the London aristocracy.

Woody isn't pawing his young heroine muse -- as in "Match Point," Johansson again -- as in the past. This time moreover Scarlett's not an ambitious sexpot and would-be movie star. She's morphed surprisingly into a klutzy, bespectacled but still pretty coed. Sid and Sondra have no flirtation, which is a great relief. They simply team up, more or less politely, to carry out Strombel's wishes by befriending Lyman and watching him for clues to his guilt. With only minimal protests Sid consents to appear as Sondra's dad. Sondra, who's captivated Peter by pretending to drown in his club pool, re-christens herself Jade Spence. Mr. Spence, i.e., Woody, keeps breaking cover by doing card tricks, but he amuses dowagers with these and beats their husbands at poker, spewing non-stop one-liners and all the while maintaining, apparently with success, that he's in oil and precious metals, just as "Jade" has told him to say.

That's about all there is to it, or all that can be told without spoiling the story by revealing its outcome. At first Allen's decision to make Johansson a gauche, naively plainspoken, and badly dressed college girl seems not just unkind but an all-around bad decision. But Johansson, who has pluck and panache as an actress, miraculously manages to carry it off, helped by Jackman, an actor who knows how to make any actress appear desirable, if he desires her. The film actually creates a sense of relationships, to make up for it limited range of characters: Sid and Sondra spar in a friendly way, and Peter and Sondra have a believable attraction even though it's artificial and tainted (she is, after all, going to bed with a suspected homicidal maniac).

What palls a bit is Allen's again drooling over English wealth and class, things his Brooklyn background seems to have left him, despite all his celebrity, with a irresistible hankering for. Jackman is an impressive fellow, glamorous and dashing. His parents were English. But could this athletic musical comedy star raised in Australia ("X-Man's" Wolverine) really pass as an aristocrat? Only in the movies, perhaps (here and in "Kate and Leopold").

This isn't as strong a film as "Match Point," but to say it's a loser as some viewers have is quite wrong. It has no more depth than a half-hour radio drama or a TV show, but Woody's jokes are far funnier and more original than you'll get in any such media affair, and sometimes they show a return to the old wit and cleverness. It doesn't matter if a movie is silly or slapdash when it's diverting summer entertainment. On a hot day you don't want a heavy meal. The whole thing deliciously evokes a time when movie comedies were really light escapist entertainment, without crude jokes or bombastic effects; without Vince Vaughan or Owen Wilson. Critics are eager to tell you this is a return to the Allen decline that preceded "Match Point." Don't believe them. He doesn't try too hard. Why should he? He may be 70, but verbally, he's still light on his feet. And his body moves pretty fast too.

Allow yourself to be transported to a different, old school kind of storytelling. Scoop is classic Woody Allen.

Allen's latest muse, Scarlett Johansson (who also appeared in last year's Match Point, also by Allen), is surprisingly able to tone down her sultry sex kitten appeal and transform into a normal looking student-type with the aid of nerdish glasses and outfits but still fails to make the audience believe how Hugh Jackman's lordly character can be so smitten by her, given the royal's background (don't worry, no spoilers here). There are no grand transformations for Johansson's character here, as she consistently plays the same character throughout despite the script saying otherwise. You even forgive her character's apparent lack of logic, continuing an affair with a suspected serial killer, simply because he is His Royal Hotness Jackman, who is refreshing to see sans the Wolverine duds.

If anything, consistency is what the 70-year old Allen is all about. He continues to tell his stories on celluloid in the same way he always has; as if he's never been exposed to modern film-making, which is probably what makes his quiet, simple films appealing. They never seem to aim for a specific market; as if Allen makes movies to his taste alone, whether the public likes it or not.