Match Point (Movie Review)

[The following contains spoilers... it was originally composed as an e-mail to a friend, who had already seen the film. Proceed at your own risk.]

There was London instead of New York. Opera instead of jazz. Dostoevsky instead of Becker. And humor so far beneath a dramatic surface, you needed a shovel to find it.

In short: I had a difficult time accepting Match Point was written & directed by the same guy who did Annie Hall, Manhattan or even Deconstructing Harry.

Sure, all sorts of thematic connections exist with Crimes and Misdemeanors, and — per the  norm — the protagonist is a philanderer who makes bad decisions based on lust. But he doesn't have the same nervous anxiety more typical of Allen's lead roles. He talks about great life issues in the beginning of the film (which allows us to see how he and his wife are mismatched), but beyond that he's just... a fella who continuously exercises bad judgement. I didn't find him anywhere near as endearing as other Allen leads, including Kenneth Branagh's Celebrity role (proof that a Brit can play a nervous American just as well as a nervous American can). The only hint of this with Match Point was when the protagonist fumbled to piece together the shotgun.

I was consumed with this distraction for much of the film, before epiphany struck: it all boils down to Pepsi & Sprite.

This old experience always seems to come up whenever I think about sensory perception: one night nearly a decade ago, I was out with friends when a waitress served me Sprite rather than the Pepsi I'd ordered. Now, I don't dislike either drink, but my brain had already fired signals anticipating Pepsi when the Sprite met my lips. The result: the two tastes commingled in my mouth, and it took every ounce of etiquette to not spit it out.

Which is to say, I liked Match Point — though it wasn't what I expected.  And the more I think about it, the more I recognize elements of Allen in it. But it's also something else. Something different. And the only truly terrible agony I experienced while watching it was this:

I was so far sucked in to the notion that this wasn't really an Allen film, that I was completely blindsided by the end. I was at once ashamed and pleasantly surprised that I didn't see it coming.

And because the ending was quintessentially Allen, I walked away laughing. Depressed (is there no justice?)... but nevertheless amused.

Or perhaps it's not entirely an Allen ending. His protagonists generally suffer dearly for their decisions. With Match Point, the lead escapes legal persecution, but I'm not so certain he'll punish himself as other characters have. He will, as he implies to his victims, eventually sleep off the guilt and resume his perfect, miserable life.