Apropos of Nothing, by
Woody Allen (Arcade Publishing, 2020; First Paperback Edition 2021)
New York Times Bestseller “In
this candid and often hilarious memoir, the celebrated director, comedian,
writer, and actor offers a comprehensive, personal look at his tumultuous life.
Beginning with his Brooklyn childhood and his stint as a writer for the Sid
Caesar variety show in the early days of television, working alongside comedy
greats, Allen tells of his difficult early days doing standup before he
achieved recognition and success. With his unique storytelling pizzazz, he
recounts his departure into moviemaking, with such slapstick comedies as Take
the Money and Run, and revisits his entire, sixty-year-long, and enormously
productive career as a writer and director, from his classics Annie
Hall, Manhattan, and Hannah and Her Sisters to
his most recent films, including Midnight in Paris. Along the way,
he discusses his marriages, his romances and famous friendships, his jazz
playing, and his books and plays. We learn about his demons, his mistakes, his
successes, and those he loved, worked with, and learned from in equal measure.”
– Amazon.
Not in the Archive, but it
has been my daily reading for almost a week. I’ve been reading and enjoying
Allen since I was in high school; watching his movies, too, until about Radio
Days, after which his films became a little less ubiquitous. Then, of
course, there was that Mia Farrow business, and things became more fraught.
“In 1980, Allen began a professional and
personal relationship with actress Mia Farrow.
Over a decade-long period, they collaborated on 13 films. The couple separated
after Allen began a relationship in 1991 with Mia's and Andre
Previn's 21-year-old adopted daughter Soon-Yi
Previn. Allen married Previn in 1997. They have two adopted daughters. In
1992, Farrow publicly accused Allen of
sexually abusing their adopted daughter, Dylan Farrow. The allegation
gained substantial media attention, but two judicial investigations and a
custody trial did not find it credible. Allen was never charged or prosecuted
and has vehemently denied the allegation.” – Wikipedia. The situation was not helped by the libidinous persona he had projected through the years.
Apropos of Nothing is
a memoir, a little less formal than an autobiography, and most reviews
emphasize its humorous aspect, and it does have that. But it’s hard to read it
as anything less than an apology, in the old-fashioned Greek sense of the word,
an explanation and a plea for understanding, if somewhat wryly put. While Allen
gives all props to Farrow as to her talent and beauty, she comes across as less
than a Supermom, as she adopts children almost as fashion accessories, and more
like a Medea, striking back at Jason through the children.
Allen’s career cannot now be discussed without addressing this business, and the absolute truth may never be known. But he relates his narrative in a convincing manner, and I put down the book (which is hard to do in media res as there are no chapters throughout its 392 pages and few formal pauses) feeling more inclined to accept his side of things. He claims he does not care what anyone thinks of him or what his legacy will be when he's gone, but I think this may be the most disingenuous statement in the whole book.
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