Irrational Man

Directed by Woody Allen (2015) *1/2

As longtime Woody Allen fans know, the quality of his films ebb and flow. He’ll release a succession of films so slight you think he’s finally down for the count. Then he’ll make a masterpiece or near-masterpiece, then a film of slightly lesser quality, then the slighter ones and the cycle begins again. When he made Irrational Man, he was in a lull.

There’s slight and then there’s fatally flawed, bordering on bad. Allen’s made a few films like that: Anything Else (2003), Deconstructing Harry (1997) and Celebrity (1998). Irrational Man is in that category.

In a film packed with good actors in the wrong vehicle, Joaquin Phoenix plays philosophy professor Abe Lucas, moving to a small-town college, Braylin, where his reputation as a radical thinker and womanizer precedes him. One of his beautiful students, Jill, is played by Emma Stone. What are the chances Abe will ask Jill to stay after class, congratulate her on the philosophical ideas in one of her papers, want to get together outside of class to talk about philosophy and … the same slightly predatory scenario’s been used in a dozen Allen films. A much older-than-I’m-used-to-seeing Parker Posey plays a romantic rival.

Phoenix is one of the best things about Irrational Man. So many of Allen’s cinematic surrogates mimic Allen’s speech patterns, but Phoenix lays back into his own idiosyncratic mumblings, giving his professor a blissed-out, spacey vibe.

Irrational Man is most likely named after William Barrett’s 1958 book which served for many Americans as an introduction to existentialist philosophy. A good choice, as Allen’s film turns Camus-like halfway through, as Abe devises a violent act as a means of not only actualizing his own concept of justice, but as a means to an emotional breakthrough, allowing him freedom to enjoy life again. None of this is even hinted at in the trailer for the film, which represents it as a light comedy. Unfortunately for the audience, there’s no pathos here, no drama, little at stake. Crimes and Misdemeanors (1989) worked because we cared about the characters; when crime transpired, it meant something. The same was true to a lesser extent in Cassandra’s Dream (2007) and Match Point (2005). Irrational Man‘s mixture of romantic comedy, crime and philosophy doesn’t sit well.

Allen makes other poor decisions that bring the film down, the first being his relentless use of a live recording of The Ramsey Lewis Trio’s “The In Crowd”, a rollicking, clapping, swinging frolic that has nothing to do with the tone of what’s happening on screen. Allen’s films have always taken place in AllenWorld, a privileged, upper-class milieu which seems to be nearly frozen in time in about 1980. I don’t normally mind that — it has its charms, but for the first time, I’m thinking Allen desperately needs an editor. At one point, Abe says he researched something “on my computer”. He would have said “online” or just “researched”. It’s now the 20th century. No one says “I’m going to drive there in my automobile.” Later Abe says he’s safe from the law because he deleted his internet searches. Only someone who doesn’t use the internet could write that line.

The conflict of guilt or lack of guilt over a heinous act has been a plot thread running through Allen’s films for many decades. Despite his protests to the contrary, Allen’s films seem to always be, in one way or another, about Woody Allen. Is there something in Allen’s past he might feel guilty about, guilt so strong it becomes a running thread through 35 years of films? It’s something to ponder.

—Michael R. Neno, 2015 August 13