Does Woody Allen repeat himself? You might as well say the Beach Boys did a lot of songs about surfing. The theme of “To Rome With Love” is Woody’s big idea: that enchantment/magic/art is the only relief, yet an ultimately unsatisfactory one, to the despair of ordinary existence. He riffed on it just last year, in “Midnight in Paris.”
In “To Rome With Love,” Allen approaches the leitmotif in a strange, oblique and interesting way. I fear, though, that the Italian entry in his “Let’s Go: Grab Some Euro-Film Subsidies” period will be remembered as being forgettable.
This is an anthology set in the Eternal City that at first looks like a simple Italian sex farce of the 1960s, but stealthily takes on some intriguing surreal aspects.
PHOTOS: ‘TO ROME WITH LOVE’ NEW YORK SCREENING
In one of the intercut episodes, a young American named Jack (Jesse Eisenberg) studying to be an architect runs into an older man, John (Alec Baldwin), of the same profession. Jack introduces John to his boring girlfriend (Greta Gerwig) and then falls under the sexual spell of a visiting actress. This is a key part — and yet Allen casts Ellen Page. Page has skills, but making the big screen flame with lust is not one of them. Did Woody lose Scarlett Johansson’s phone number?
Baldwin’s character is the best aspect of the film. He’s real (I think), but he also serves as a kind of sarcastic Jiminy Cricket who inexplicably keeps appearing out of nowhere to warn Jack about falling prey to the temptress. Baldwin provides several funny moments as he wanders the landscape musing aloud in that honey-whiskey voice.
Meanwhile, a pair of dull newlyweds (Alessandro Tiberi, Alessandra Mastronardi) get separated for the day and each winds up having a wacky adventure with a sexy stranger. His is an Allen standby: a wise prostitute (Penelope Cruz).
In another story, a cubicle drone (Roberto Benigni) finds himself being treated like a celebrity. In another, Allen himself plays a retired opera director who meets a funeral director (Fabio Armiliato) who is an amazing opera singer. The tenor can sing only in the shower. So Allen’s character launches the singer by wheeling him around the opera circuit in a working shower.
Most of these ideas, while cute enough, could have been sketches on “Your Show of Shows,” and I wouldn’t be surprised if they were. The compulsive speed with which Allen works means he often doesn’t put a lot of development muscle into such fancies. The Benigni scenes, in particular, amount to repeating the same gag endlessly.
Still, the comedy is passable, and the ways the stories play off each other provides enough to think about to be engaging. Do we fool ourselves, and then go to absurd lengths to remain strangers with the truth? I’m with Allen on that one. Moreover, the Allen character’s distress at retirement hints that he may finally be ready to deal with a topic a lot richer than sassy hookers: age.