I’ve seen thirty-five (35!) better Woody Allen films. That’s not to say this is the worst. Clearly, it cracked my top-40. And yet, Café Society is the kind of art of which the phrase “damning with faint praise” was invented.
It is the 1930s and Brooklyn twentysomething Bobby (Jesse Eisenberg) has come to Hollywood to … work? His uncle Phil (Steve Carell) is a bigshot movie producer, and while Bobby clearly wants in, is it unclear exactly where he wants in – does he wish fame? Fortune? Glory? Does he wish to hobnob and namedrop like his uncle? Or does he just want to run the mailroom at a studio? It seems like he wants to be a playah, but he brought no game to the West Coast.
Luckily for Bobby, nepotism was still a thing in the 1930s, so he soon becomes Phil’s personal assistant and delivery boy. Again what exactly he does is not entirely clear, but now he’s earning money doing it, which allows him to fall for Phil’s secretary, Vonnie (Kristen Stewart). Turns out Vonnie is in love with another man, which puts Kristen Stewart in the middle of a love triangle. Wait. That can’t be right, can it? Whoever heard of
such a thing? Can you imagine?
Hmmm … does this mean that Bobby is some sort of vampire or werewolf? Quick, check him for sparkles.
This is not, of course, the first time Jesse Eisenberg has taken the reins as Woody himself. Oh, you didn’t now? Trust me – all Woody Allen films are actually about Woody Allen; he’s just too old to play himself these days.
Café Society is unremarkable on so many counts, it’s kind of hard to fathom. Amiable and strangely disaffecting, it has little to say about romance or star chasing. The title itself, believe it or not, refers to a nightclub in New York City, which may or may not make sense to you depending on perspective. Allen remains a competent director; he just seems to have lost his statement here. Other than a slightly moving set of expressions to end the film, the biggest takeaway I get here is “gee, Kristen Stewart’s acting has improved.” Is it enough to save this film? No. Nor is it worthy of leading woman status, yet, either.
Sure, I lack for street cred
But look at the guys that she’ll wed!
Take my advisor
She digs long incisor
How I wish that I were undead
Rated PG-13, 96 Minutes
D: Woody Allen
W: Woody Allen
Genre: Another KStew triangle. Does that make it obtuse?
Type of person most likely to enjoy this film: Jesse Eisenberg believers
Type of person least likely to enjoy this film: People who still haven’t forgiven Kristen Stewart
