46/CHRONICLESnSCREENnCritic’s Choicenby Sam KarnicknHannah and Her Sisters; written andndirected by Woody Allen; OrionnPictures.nLike any civilized society, Americanreveres its artists. Unfortunately, innthis as in most other things, we tend tongo overboard. Consequently, we arenall too often subjected to the spectaclenof a ludicrous buffoon like Gore Vidalnon national television pontificating onnpublic policy questions, or a NormannMailer—a man who once stabbed onenof his six wives—being taken seriouslynby the New York Parole Board, withnhorrifying consequences.nThe worst aspect of this unquestioningnreverence, however, is the deleteriousneffect it has on the artists themselves.nThe road from storyteller tonsage is a perilous one indeed.nSo it has been for Woody Allen. Hisnfirst two films. What’s Up, Tiger Lily?n(1967) and Take the Money and Runn(1969), were fitfully amusing trifles.nOver the next few years, he began tonlearn his craft as a filmmaker, and hisnmovies got better, although they stillnsuffered from the superficiality, emphasisnon gags over character development,nand tendency to repeat endlessnvariations on the same joke evident innhis 1960’s output.nV Then, in 1977, came Allen’s breakthroughnfilm, both commercially andnartistically: Annie Hall. There was nonlonger any room for disagreement.nWoody Allen was an artist, and one ofngreat significance at that. Further foraysninto this same territory, such asnInteriors (1978) and Manhattann(1979), produced similarly glowingnpraise.nNow it’s clear, of course, that thenreason the critics were praising AllennVITAL SIGNSnfor his acerbic insights into Americannlife was not that he was writing aboutnordinary Americans, but that he wasnwriting about them: the self-proclaimednAmerican intelligentsia. Theyncouldn’t care less about the lives ofnordinary Americans, but, oh, did theynlove to hear jokes about McLuhan,nFreud, and Kierkegaard.nAnd yet, even during these last 10nyears, when Allen has enjoyed almostnuniversal respect, there have been disturbingnnotes, which even his mostnardent admirers have felt forced tonacknowledge, however obsequiouslynand reverenriy.nThere was, first of all, the appallingndourness of Interiors. The film wasnclearly a pale imitation of Bergman,nwhich most critics duly pointed out,nsimply changing the word “pale” ton”brilliant.” If they had trouble withnInteriors, however, they should reallynhave been scared, for worse was yet toncome, at least from their perspective.nIn Stardust Memories (1980) and Zelign(1983), Allen attacked the very famemongersnwho had been so kind to him.nLike suburban parents whose child hasncome home a member of a motorcyclengang, they asked, “Where, oh where,ndid we go wrong?”nWhere they had gone wrong, ofncourse, was in imputing too muchnaffection to Allen’s earlier satire ofnthemselves. He had never liked themnas much as they had thought, andnwhen he made it clear, the criticismnstung. Most, however, failed to realizenthis and stuck by him, hoping he’dncome back around.nWell, he has, after a fashion, and allnhas been forgiven. Last year’s The PurplenRose of Cairo was just the sort ofnmuddled nonsense the American intelligentsianadores, and Hannah andnHer Sisters, while better, is unfortunatelynmore of the same. While PurplenRose was lugubrious throughout, Hannahnis a return to the comic form.nUnfortunately, Allen seems determinednin this film not to be too funny.nnnlest he not be taken seriously by thencritics. So when a scene threatens tonbecome too pleasurable—as whennMickey, his hypochondriacal TV producer,nfinds out he may really be dyingnof a brain tumor—Allen cuts the ensuingnscene short and quickly races offnto another story.nAllen tries to do too many things in .nHannah, and the film cracks undernthe strain. Certainly the most entertaining,nhumorous, and insightful aspectnof the film is the story of Mickey’snrealization that he will someday die,nand his comic/pathetic attempts to findnfaith. This plot parallels somethingnthat has been going on in Allen’s ownnlife—as is clear both from his filmsnand interviews—but since he apparentlynhasn’t solved the problem fornhimself, he is at a loss as to how tonsolve it for his character. So he relegatesnMickey to secondary status in thenfilm’s narrative scheme, which is anshame. We’ve seen Allen’s search fornbelief coming out in his films morenand more clearly recentiy, and he is tonbe commended for this. In A MidsummernNight’s Sex Comedy there is anserious concern with spiritualism, andnthe ending hopefully posits the existencenof an afterlife. Broadway DannynRose and Hannah set major scenes atnThanksgiving celebrations, and innStardust Memories a group of extraterrestrialsnreproaches Sandy, Allen’snalter ego in the film, for “asking thenwrong questions” and being too pessimistic.nIf Allen’s over-reaching in hisnaesthetic forms is unwelcome, certainlynhis outreach on the spiritual side is anhopeful trend. Unfortunately, he has anfew other problems to solve on thenway.nWoody Allen’s real problem is simplynthat he is not a very efficientnstoryteller. Yet he must be praised fornrecognizing this fact and working,nthroughout his career, to minimize itsneffects. Thus the use of voice-overs,nfantasy sequences, asides to the audience,nprinted titles, allusions to othern