Annie Hall (1977)

Annie Hall (Woody Allen, 1977)

Walken plays: Duane Hall - Doting brother, dubious driver




Synposis: Let's be clear: Woody Allen is an indisputably icky person, but he more or less singlehandedly revitalized the romantic comedy genre with Annie Hall, winning four Oscars for the most fresh and original tale of true love ne'er running smooth until When Harry Met Sally. Stuffed full of every neurotic New Yorker Allen stereotype imaginable, Annie Hall chronicles the clunky relationship between neurotic stand up comedian/mess Alvy Singer (Allen) and quirky, aspiring musician/mess Annie Hall (Diane Keaton), as their courtship takes them through tennis games, Ingmar Bergman marathons, fourth-wall breaching Marshall McLuhan cameos, contrasting internal monologues, drugs, analyst sessions, spider killing, and, of course, lobsters. It's all been over-quoted and riffed on to death by now, but there are some genuine bits of cinematic joy that hold up here, and Allen's insistence on credible characterization amidst the neurotic loser/manic pixie dream girl tropes helps it remain head and shoulders above the crowd.

People generally point to The Deer Hunter as the film that kick-started Walken's career as we know it, but it was really Annie Hall that put him on the map. In one of his patented two-scene bits, Walken helps Singer's first meeting with Annie's family become as surreal and creepy as possible (playing essentially a more subdued version of the troubled son that would vex his older self in Wedding Crashers). Duane Hall appears every inch the suave, spoiled rich boy when first introduced having dinner with the family, but it's after dinner, when he confronts Alvy with the dark confession that he is often consumed with the dark desire to plow headlong into oncoming traffic, that Walken really comes alive. Lurking in the dark with a sinister conviction in his eyes, Walken makes Duane all the more disturbingly funny through his unnerving calm, as if talking through the sensorial details of the anticipated explosion is the most matter-of-fact thing in the world. His aura is so fundamentally off-putting that Allen's retort, "I have to go now, Duane - I have to return to the planet Earth" is spot on. Then: punchline. Guess who drives Alvy and Annie to the airport after dinner? Perfection.

Wacky Walken dialogue: His entire monologue ("I can anticipate the explosion, the sound of shattering glass, the flames rising out of the flowing gasoline") is a classic, but it's his opening remark that does me in: "I tell you this because, as an artist, I think you'll understand."

DOES HE DANCE: Nope - but if he's this fucked up about driving, I'd hate to see what letting him loose on a dance floor would uncork.



Overall Walken-o-meter: 9/10 cowbells. This is seminal Walken, and a perfectly played taste of the madness the rest of his career would unleash. He's one of the absolute highlights of one of the most revered films of the decade, and his eerie, hilarious tranquility throughout his murderous monologue makes it one of his best.