I didn't find this the masterpiece some have claimed, but I enjoyed it - I certainly didn't experience the feeling of disappointment I've had with every new Woody film since the mid 90s. It's wonderful to see Woody outside of New York (if only he'd dump the credits and the music) although he treats London the same cinematically as Manhattan - plenty of restaurants, theatres, art galleries, houses in the country.
The story is basically a remake of the Martin Landau section of Crimes and Misdemeanors, dragged out for two hours (there is even an equivalent of Sam Waterston's rabbi - a tennis pro that Rhys Myers confesses to) - it feels as though it could use a subplot, and that there are too many scenes. It also has occasionally clunky moments of dialogue which feel like "Woody doesn't really know how people talk".
But there are advantages: Scarlett Johanssen and Jonathan Rhys Myers are really good (it's the first time I've liked Rhys Myers in anything); they give the film a genuine sexual charge and some scenes - particularly making love in a rain storm - are the most erotic in any Woody Allen film; there is accomplished acting throughout the cast and a lovely twist at the end.
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