I am not a fan of Woody Allen, the person, although he is known world-wide as a comedian, writer, producer and director.
And there’s not many, if any, of his films that I have actually sat through.
Until now that is.
Some people seem to always be “late to the game.” That’s me.
I discover something when others have known about it for years.
And that is the way it is with my latest encounter with Mr. Allen.
Back in 2011 he wrote and directed the movie “Midnight in Paris.”
I don’t keep up with him as an individual, therefore I don’t keep track of his movies. But about three months ago I ran across an article in an old magazine about the movie he wrote and directed.
And I actually went onto Amazon Prime and watched it.
Why did I watch it?
Well, it had the word Paris in the title. And it was about a guy in the field of writing. And he had a nice looking fiancé. And the review told of his experience upon entering the bewitching midnight hour.
There are always those who think about the past, and how it was or could have been.
A number of times while in the Cafe du Monde in New Orleans, I envisioned the situation where either William Faulkner, Truman Capote or Tennesee Williams, or some other notable writer would arrive, find a special spot and await their beignets and cafe au lait.
We think of maybe how grandiose the past was.
In “Midnight in Paris,” that thinking played out, and we discovered how those who we would have like to have met back in the 1920’s, were thinking about going back another 50 years to see how how it was at that time.
I knew how the movie would end. Who (OK, a lot of us don’t fit the mold) wouldn’t stay in the City of Light and live what some would call an extraordinary life in such a great city.
Having visited once, I do yearn to return to Paris.
I still don’t like Woody Allen as a person.
But I love, “Midnight in Paris.”
Next post: March 15, 2016