“A Rainy Day in New York.” Timotheé Chalamet , all wet and not so believable, plays Gatsby.

By Paul Goldfinger,  Editor @Blogfinger.net

I am one of a shrinking number of huge Woody Allen fans.  Last year I became aware of a new Woody film, and that possibility was exciting.  But “A Rainy Day in New York”  was not released in America due to a disagreement with Amazon films.  Woody was being punished by corporate because of unproven allegations regarding  child sexual abuse involving one of Mia Farrow’s children.

Then the film was released all over Europe. The New York Times reviewer saw it in a theater in Italy.  I was convinced that we would get it here sooner or later.

Finally it made its way here with a limited run at some theaters.  Overall it has earned $22 million worldwide, despite luke warm reviews.  I stumbled on it a few days ago on  Netflix and I rented it for $4.99 for two days.

Overall I was disappointed, and I suspect that most Woody fans are as well, but we have been spoiled thanks to Allen’s run of 48 films, most of them memorable.

“Rainy Day..” has several world class actors and is set in beautiful Manhattan on a rainy day; a town where bad weather can look like Shangri-La in Woody’s hands.

The plot seems like rehashed Woody with a handsome young man from a wealthy family who attends a fancy college in NY state.  He plays piano like Bobby Short and gets to enjoy all the most beautiful places in the city.  He has a gorgeous blond girlfriend and he  has every reason to be ecstatically happy, but he isn’t.   His angst hangs over the entire film. And despite trying to emulate the real Woody,  it doesn’t quite work.

For me, the cinematography is exquisite as is the scenic design including the usual fabulous Woody interiors, apartments and neighborhoods, including Central Park.

It has a similarity to many of his prior films, but without the usual infectious screenplay.  The characters are not very interesting, although the cast does sparkle.  Even the music comes up short.  I was unable to find an album of the soundtrack.  The movie tries to be funny, but it often misses the mark.

Yet it has so many of the usual wonderful Woody style ingredients that if you are a fan, you should see it, and you will find much to enjoy;  and groaning on and off is deserved.

And one thing I learned from a couple of published reviews is that there is a more recent Woody film, currently showing at film festivals, which premiered last month.  It is called “Rifkin’s Festival.”

I can’t wait.

In the film,  Gatsby sits down at a piano and sings this song “Everything Happens to Me”:   Here is a version by Chet Baker–another sad young man, but this guy plays the trumpet.