Wild Man Blues

Bomb Rating: 

This is a documentary about Woody Allen and the European tour he takes with his New Orleans Jazz Band.

A while back I decided that every time I inadvertently thought about Woody Allen I would go and dunk my head in cold toilet water to remind myself that thinking about such things is utterly pointless. "Utterly pointless" aptly describes this film, which is insightful insofar as it shows us that Allen, like many human beings, eats breakfast.

Half the film is spent listening to Allen and his band play New Orleans style jazz and the other half is spent watching Allen hang out with his sister and his daughter/girlfriend, Soon Yi Previn. Given Allen's unique neuroses, the film seems to conclude that room service is the main thing keeping Soon Yi interested in boinking the Woodster. That and an occasional trip to Toys -R- Us.

If there's anything even remotely interesting about "Wild Man Blues," it's that so many people all over Europe seem incredibly fascinated by Allen. They come out in droves to listen to his band and just catch a glimpse of him as though he were Leonardo DiCaprio running down a nude beach, his little sausage flapping against his sunburned thighs. Allen is mobbed everywhere he goes. Along with the Jerry Lewis phenomenon, it just goes to show that for all its claims to aesthetic supremacy, Europe harbors as many tasteless morons as any other place.

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