A Rainy Day in New York (2018)

Woody Allen films are definitely either hit or miss.  This film is no exception; I found myself feeling as if every male character were an impressionistic representation of Allen himself in some way: Roland Pollard -- bored with his creative life and looking to reinvigorate himself both spiritually and creatively, Ted Davidoff -- paranoid and insecure that his wife is cheating on him, when he's really just feeling aimless in his art, as he plays second tier to Pollard's chicanery, Gatsby Welles -- way too much the embodiment of Holden Caufield to be anything but insufferably self-involved.  Ultimately the film was very disappointing, but to her credit the Dakota Fanning character Ashleigh was right about Gatsby: he probably does have Asberger's (high-functioning autism).  There was no clear explanation as to why he chucked the blonde and ended up with Selena.  Indeed I understand the attraction, but -- WHY?  Unfortunately Chalamet's Gatsby is named ironically here; he's not an outsider working hard to prove himself worthy of great society.  He's an insider, progeny of the one-percent, who dreams of something inappropriate to shake up his life.  The fact that he finds what he's looking for does not humanize him.  He could've ended up with anyone who struck his fancy.  His fancy or whim being the operative word.  He seems to fall in love or be interested in taking action with a woman based on how he feels in the moment.  Talk about emotional dysregulation.  The film takes place in present day, but it could have easily taken place fifty years ago.  There's a staticness to the highfalutin social circle of Gatsbsy; the old soul of the film's backdrop, wardrobe and luxurious sets, is a way of saying that all money is old money.  Rich people act as they've always acted, enjoy the privilege they've always had, unless you're Diego Luna's Francisco, and then you can literally afford to discard young college women, even if her dad owns a bunch of banks.  No skin off your back. 

Woody Allen: try harder in making art that strives to be more than a formulaic exercise in solipsism.  On the plus side: I feel motivated to hit the Joe Goldberg reading list, so that I can pretend to be cultured, too. ;)