Customer Reviews

Crimes and Misdemeanors [VHS]

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I rate Woody Allen's "Crimes and Misdemeanors" as one of the 10...make that one of the 3 best movies ever made! It's a shame that this film did not stir up more of a buzz upon it's release in 1990, but thankfully it now has a second lease on life via DVD. "Crimes and Misdemeanors" is actually two movies rolled into one, as Allen masterfully intertwines two very different storylines, one a drama of tragic proportions, and the other, a lighter story with some classy comic moments. Thanks to Allen's keen sense of artistry, the two stories converge and successfully come together in the end as a unified whole. In just under 2 hours "Crimes and Misdemeanors" touches on some of the most perplexing questions of human nature, dealing sensitively with matters of ethics, guilt, fidelity, moral relitivism, conscience, and faith in God. The film does not attempt to spoon-feed answers to its audience, but rather raises some heady and important questions for the veiwer to consider,...even about themselves! Veteran actor Martin Landau is outstanding in the part of Judah, the main character of the more dramatic storyline. Landau pumps some real emotion into his character, so much so that you will truly feel his guilt and paranoia in the aftermath of the "crime" refered to in the title. Also very important to the "tragic" section on the film is Sam Waterston in the role of a Rabbi, in many ways this Rabbi is a pivotal chartcter in the story, as his belief in a morally-structered universe is contrasted with Judah's questionable thoughts and actions. Woody Allen, Mia Farrow, and Alan Alda are the stars of the "alternate" storyline, and each is allowed to shine, thanks to Allen's gift for writing witty and fully-realised dialog. In fact the strained relationship between Allen (as an unsuccessful documentary filmmaker) and Alda (as an Aaron Spelling-esque, award winning TV producer) is one of the films many highlights, and Allen's barely-concealed comtempt for his artistic nemesis makes use of Woody's best comic talents. With all of its philosophical implications and brilliant uses of symbolism (something as simple as a car's headlights going out never resonated with so much meaning!) "Crimes and Misdemeanors" would make a great starting point for an ethical or theological bull session, and in fact many Christians and Orthodox Jews have used the film for just that purpose! As the voice-over narration tells us in the films closing moments, "we define ourselves by the choices we have made", and indeed these words come to life as we see the characters onscreen living with the choices that they have made, for better, or for worse. What else can I say, "Crimes and Misdemeanors" is a unique piece of cinema that will untimately challenge the mind, while at the same time keeping the heart deeply entertained! This is the type of cinema that you only get from a master filmmaker like Woody Allen.

What can I say about this movie, except that I have seen it more times than I can count. Each time I watch it, something more is revealed and to me that is the sign of truly excellent writing. The characters are three-dimensional, each with their own idiosyncracies and contradictions. The separate plots compliment each other and stay distinct till the very end, yet they both deal with fundamental human issues and dilemmas. The cast is first-rate. Much of the movie is seen through Allen's character; as always, a cynical and unhappy man, yet you leave the film feeling a certain satisfaction and a greater insight into human behavior. The philosopher is a second narrator, in a sense, and his points of view are pertinent to both of the parallel plots. His suicide adds a twist to the story, where the viewer is suddenly left unsure on how to feel about his poignant words which we once trusted and valued. Overall, the movie is a gem and should be seen by every serious Woody Allen fan as well as those who can't stand him.

Woody Allen is the most deeply religious of movie directors; He just doesn't know it yet.

"Crimes and Misdemeanors" (an obvious nod to Fyodor Dostoyevsky) is Allen's most engrossing quest for moral order in the universe, which quest leaves him -- and the viewer -- utterly bereft.

However, unlike the bleak "Interiors" or Allen's hilarious send-up on impending death being the impetus for finding God in "Hannah and Her Sisters," Allen's treatment of God, morality and free will is multi-faceted, and doesn't come to any pat answers.

In fact, it is Allen's ambivalent contemplation of religion and ethics that conservative critics find lacking at best, or disingenuous at worst. I see it differently: Agree or disagree with him, Allen is an atheist who is nonetheless tormented by the conclusion he has reached that there is no God. His is no knee-jerk atheism, as he has clearly thought through the philosophical issues involved, wavering between Nietzschean will to power and outright denial, to existentialist reluctance in the face of the ultimate meaningless of life beyond the here-and-now.

"Crimes and Misdemeanors" is peopled by a sterling cast, whose lives and choices are in direct conflict and contrast with one another; Yet, all speak with one voice, in Allen's exquisitely economical and pointed dialogue.

Judah Rosenthal (Martin Landau, in the role of a lifetime, so perfectly is the dialogue tailored to his cadence of voice and gestures), like Job, is a man who has everything he could ever want. Unlike Job, when he sees his wealth and seemingly ideal family life (with wife Claire Bloom) jeopardized, he turns his back on God.

The catalyst for Judah's life crisis is Dolores (Angelica Huston), a lonely airline stewardress with whom he's having more than a fling. When Dolores realises that she means nothing more to Judah than a mistress, and that his marital overtures to her were hollow, she turns on him with neurotic vengeance, threatening to expose not only their affair, but Judah's shady financial dealings.

Frozen by fear of exposure, Judah turns to his rabbi (played by Sam Waterston) for advice. As wise as the advice is, it leaves too much to chance, that Judah can still indeed face exposure, shame and ruin. So, then he calls on his hit-man brother (Jerry Orbach) to quietly make Dolores -- and all Judah's problems -- disappear.

And they *do* disappear, but with one hitch: Judah is suddenly consumed with guilt, and the one distant God now appears to haunt him and watch his every move. It is interesting watching Judah as he tries to reconcile his amoral crime with his ambivalent beliefs towards the Almighty. The scene in which he visits his childhood home in New Jersey brings back ghosts from his past, and we see his relatives sitting around the Seder table, in heated debate over the existence of God and the search for a moral order in the universe. Being a Woody Allen movie, of course the nasal aunt who dismisses God as a childish fantasy -- given the evidence that He did nothing to stop the Holocaust -- wins the day, thus influencing the adolescent Judah, who is being watched by the older Judah, an invisible prescence within the dining room.

Two other plot threads run alternately hilarious/serious: Allen co-stars as Clifford Stern, an independent filmmaker, who lives on the financial and emotional handouts from his sexually barren wife. When she arranges for him to film the life of her brother, Lester, a successful commercial TV producer played by Alan Alda (whose sleazy character is a cross between Norman Lear and Ted Turner), Clifford bristles at Lester's shallowness. Things get wilder as Cliff tries to woo Halley (played by Mia Farrow), a public TV producer. Meanwhile, Halley -- who at first brushes off Lester's slick advances -- starts being attracted to Lester.

Meanwhile, Clifford is filming the life story of a philosopher of positive thinking, Holocaust survivor Dr. Levy. When the professor turns negative and commits suicide (and Halley simultaneously throws Cliff over for the boorish Lester), Clifford concludes that there is nothing but random moral choas, and that indeed -- echoing Nietzsche -- God is dead.

The movie ends with Clifford and Judah meeting at the wedding of Rabbi Ben's daughter. The Rabbi has now gone fully blind, despite Judah's attempts to restore his eyesight. Yet, Judah observes, the guilt over Dolores' murder have dissipated, and confides hypothetically to Clifford that life can indeed be good for a murderer, provided he feel no moral guilt for his crimes, and that morality is but an impediment to fruitful living. After all, he notes, his family life and fortune have been restored to him, and that the idea of retributive justice being doled out by God is a fairy tale, a figment of imagination.

The conclusion is that we are each responsible for our own actions and our own lives. Yet, Allen makes one huge error in logic: If there is no God, he seems to imply, and if there is no moral order to the universe, then there is no moral or ethical impediment to murdering one's fellows. Is this Allen's tacit acknowledgement of the supernatural, or is he backing up Nietzsche's notion that morality was only invented to keep lesser men from running amok, that the common mass needs laws because they are incapable of rational judgment? It seems here that Allen is making the case for utter nihilism. So, why is he a liberal on the political spectrum, liberalism being a philosophy that holds democratic action and altruism as its moral center? Is Allen making a sotto voce case for fascism?

Truthfully, I don't think he's doing the latter. Nonetheless, it is refreshing to see an atheist give so much thought and obvious private anguish to the question of God. If only the faithful did, there'd be less wanton violence commited in His name.

Granted, I am a very devoted Woody Allen fan. However, that does not mean I like everyone of his movies w/o question. I can barely get thru some of his "earlier, funnier" movies. Crimes and Misdemeanors is a film that I quite honestly cannot believe. It is proof that there are things only Woody can accomplish. The drama of the scence in which Landau imagines discussing his plan with his rabbi leaves me as awestruck as the humor of viewing Woody's rough draft of the documentary he makes of Alda. To laugh at the latter scene would not do it justice, it is simply too brilliant. Alan Alda is so perfectly directed by Allen. He is the perfect actor to repeatedly declare the empty, psuedo-intellectual, "If it bends, it's funny; if it breaks, it isn't". The theme of eyes and seeing is interesting: the doctor can't make the rabbi see, and as the rabbi tries to make the doctor "see", he goes blind himself, and does not know if he has succeeded or not. Alda is so obnoxious, and Farrow so sweet, that one becomes ever aware of how women are all too often unable to choose the right man. Absolutely Brilliant! Possibly his best, certainly his most ambitious.

This is my favorite fil of all time!

Two elements combine magnificently to create this masterpiece: the script and the actors.

The director does a fine job, but mostly by restraining himself so as not to distract from the story, the dialogue, and the characters. I know some people see this as an argument against God's existance and therefore feel a pious need to trash it. I would argue, however, that it is no such thing. There have been enough movies about how the universe tends to right the wrongs of human design, the fact is that doesn't always happen, ON THIS EARTH. To say that there is no divine hand guiding the lives of people who sail through this mortal existance is not necasserily an argument that there is no divine hand at all. This and films like it (the Seventh Seal comes to mind) are more about the truth of the human condition than the truth of the divine condition. Bad things happen to good people and good things happen to bad people, many times good things happen to you BECAUSE you're bad, and vice-verse. Ideally, the righteous are rewarded and the evil punished, but we do not live in an ideal world. Unfortunatley, film and literature are not resplendent with the truth of this reality. The meek have yet to inherit the earth, and that's exactly what this movie is about. It does not argue atheism, it represents human experience and presents to us the very real temptation to lose hope, but it ends with a plea from beyond the grave (the grave of someone who did lose hope) that we have faith in the small joys of life and look forward with optimism. Why should we retain hope? Because the triumph of the human spirit is that we continue to move forward, and hopefully we learn from past mistakes and our posterity may yet find that extra happiness which eluded us.

Enough postulation about God and Atheism, this is a fantastic movie. Martin Landau's performance is the greatest ever preserved on celluloid, coupled with his performance on "Ed Wood", I would argue that he is the greatest actor of the twentieth century!

Do your self a favor and watch this film, examine life and ask yourself what it means.

Thank you, Woody.

`Crimes and Misdemeanors' written and directed by Woody Allen may very well be Allen's best film to date. It is a straight drama with intermixed humor. It has no parody or self-reference like `Stardust Memories', it has no gimmicks like `Annie Hall', and it is not leadenly serious like `Interiors'. While this does not necessarily make it a better movie, it has what seems to be the largest `name' cast of all Allen's works, even though he is able to attract `name' actors like flies to honey. It even has a real plot where events early in the movie create situations to which you expect a resolution by the time the credits roll.

There is a very neat symmetry between two parallel series of events in the movie. The parallelism and it's nature are signaled by the title and the promise is realized far better than other works with similar titles. The liner notes compare the subject in this movie with `Love and Death', but I think the comparison is strained at best. The real issues in this movie are guilt and loss.

The Crime is the murder of Landau's mistress (Angelica Houston) arranged by Landau's brother (Jerry Orbach), a gangster with access to contract killers. The motive for the murder is fact that the mistress has become impatient in her expectation that Landau will leave his wife (Claire Bloom) and threatens to reveal the infidelity to Bloom and the world. What makes the risk to Landau even greater is that he is a very successful and wealthy doctor of ophthalmology who has contributed much to local hospitals and other charities.

The Misdemeanor is the dalliance of Allen's character with his assistant (Mia Farrow) while his marriage with wife Joanna Gleason is souring. The connection between Allen and Landau is based on the fact that one of Gleason's brothers is a rabbi (Sam Waterston) who is going blind and is being treated by Ophthalmologist Landau. The misdemeanor plot is enriched by Gleason's other brother, a highly successful television producer gloriously played with great ambiguity by Alan Alda's slipping between attractive and unattractive traits as easily as a duck takes to water.

Allen is a marginally successful documentary filmmaker whose great ambition is to do a documentary on the life of a philosopher (probably a professor at NYU, loosely based perhaps on Sydney Hook). He is hooked up with Alda's TV producer to do a biographical documentary on the producer's career for PBS. Alda recommends Allen to PBS only as a favor to his sister.

While the events leading to the `Crime' causes intense guilt and remorse on the part of Landau, his connection to the crime goes undetected by the police and he wakes up one morning with his sense of guilt lifted from his shoulders. The irony is that Allen's trivial misdemeanor is published by his loosing his wife, loosing his contract to do the documentary for the producer, and loosing his potential romantic interest (Farrow) to Alda.

I'm reluctant to give away much more of the plots, but I will say that the events are shot through with this kind of irony, including the fact that while Landau gets off Scott free, the rabbi, a totally virtuous character, goes blind. On top of this, the two principles are depicted in such a way that you admire the criminal, Landau and feel little sympathy for his victim or the inept, nebbish filmmaker who gets the short end of the stick from all his colleagues and relatives.

And through all of this, there is a finely crafted vein of humor, including a little aphorism from Alda on the nature of humor when he says that `If it bends, its funny. If it breaks, it's not'.

This movie twists and turns and bends and threatens to break, and never does. Truly one of Allen's best!.

A few generations ago, in his novel "Crime and Punishment," Fyodor Dostoyevsky posed the question: can an intelligent and sensitive person commit a murder and escape remorse? The answer he gave was "no." In Crimes and Misdemeanors, Woody Allen revisits this question from a different moral perspective. His conclusion is both chilling and convincing. (It is also unambiguous.)
The premise of a godless and (therefore) morally chaotic universe had always been implicit in Mr. Allen's comedies. In this film he gets serious, presents his moral vision explicitly, and defends it brilliantly. Furthermore, in an extraordinary twist of the knife, a subplot featuring characteristic Allen humor demonstrates that absurd irony and volitional cruelty coexist amicably.
Crimes and Misdemeanors is a breathtaking statement. Thus far, it has been woefully underappreciated.

In Crimes and Misdemeanors, Woody Allen recalls the work of the great European directors (especially Bergman's soul-searching preoccupation with matters of faith). Two stories unfold in parallel: that of a successful ophthalmologist (played by Martin Landau), whose predicament with an extra-marital affair causes him to do the unthinkable; and a the serio-comic flirtations of a small-time documentary film-maker (played by Allen himself) contemplating his own extramarital romp with a production assistant (Mia Farrow).

Landau's character, Judah Rosenthal, afraid of ruination, calls upon his brother (Law and Order's Jerry Orbach) to make his little indiscretion "disappear". She disappears, all right - into oblivion, the victim of a hit-man Orbach's character met through his years in the restaurant business.

Allen's character, by far much lighter and more innocent, is trying to finance a documentary on an upbeat Holocaust survivor and Philosophy professor by condescending to make a television biography of his shallow, egotistical brother-in-law, a famous sit-com producer (Alan Alda).

What these two stories have in common is a deepening ethical dilemma posed by the ambiguity of moral standards in the absence of religious faith. Although raised in a traditionally religious Jewish household, Judah is not, himself, a believer - at least, until the guilt of his mistress' murder presses down upon him almost unbearably. Then he begins to fantasize that he will be caught and punished, if only because the seeing eye of God is everywhere, and He will make certain of it. Similarly, Allen's character is driven to the point of crisis not only by his failure to snag his own mistress, but by the suicide of the professor whose life seemed the very model of spiritual triumph in the face of adversity.

What emerges from the convergence of these two stories is a great envy and baleful respect for those who can have faith. Faith is a gift, as one character points out, like musical talent. It is the ability to walk in darkness, oblivious to the probable truth that there is only chaos in the Universe, and be contented in that ignorance.

The DVD lacks a director's commentary or any other nice features, but it is handsomely produced, with the work of cinematographer Sven Nykvist (long-time collaborator of Igmar Bergman) beautifully showcased. Anjelica Houston and Sam Waterston lend excellent support as Judah's mistress and a rabbi patient who is gradually losing his sight.

For those viewers who enjoy philosophical depth in films, and who eschew easy, predigested answers, this film is most certainly a must-see.

Words cannot decribe how amazing this movie is. Well, actually, they can - otherwise I wouldn't be writing this. I suggest watching this movie on a Saturday afternoon with a friend or group of people, and then going out for coffee to discuss it. It's one of those rare movies that raises so many questions that are just waiting to be talked about.

Woody Allen has always made us laugh, and it's unfortunate that his more dramatic features, such as "Interiors" aren't more popular. Fortunately, he combines his wit with his wisdom in "Crimes and Misdemeanors."

This movie is more like two short films combined to make one film. There are two plots, and the two protagonists meet in the end. In one, there's the typical light Woody fare with Woody playing an unsuccessful documentary filmmaker who is coerced into making a film about his obnoxious brother-in-law, a tv show producer. He falls in love with an executive producer, which would be fine except for two things: 1.)she doesn't feel the same way, and 2)he's married.

The other, more dramatic story deals with Judah Rosenthal, a successful opthmalogist , philanthropist, and family man who has a secret: he had an affair with another woman. He borke it off, but now the woman has threatened to tell his wife and others about his infedelity and other deeds. he speaks to a rabbi client (also Woody's brother-in-law), who says that he needs to tell his wife in order to free himself. He also talks to his brother. His solution? Have her killed.
The acting is absolutely riveting. Martin Landau is terrific as a tormented man who cannot choose between his morals and the life he leads. And Anjelica Huston is incredible as a woman pushed to the edge. The rest of the cast shines as well. Allen always has creative casting and it always seems to work.

I cannot tell you how this movie gets into your psyche. At one point, the rabbi tells Judah, "It's a human life. You don't think God sees?" Judah's reply, "God is a luxury I can't afford." Wow. Who do we sympathize with? The man who is guilt ridden, or the woman he strung along for two years? The man who's in love with a woman, or his wife? Allen never forces us to choose.

My favorite scene is a flashback scene with Judah's family. The family is at a seder (passover) dinner, and is talking about God. This scene in particular raises such fantastic theological questions: If we, as humans, get away with something bad that we did on earth, are we still punished in the afterlife? Does one have to choose between God and the truth? What would you choose?

I rented this movie by chance; someone told me it was good. I sat watching this film in complete awe. It wrestles so beautifully with the most basic of human fears and temptations. Landau's performance is stunning. His character's guilt is so justified, as is the steps he wants to take to rid him of that guilt. Allen's part of the story is more subtle, but equally true. And when these two finally meet at the end--the world simply stops and men talk. Wonderful cinema and splendid storytelling.