One Paragraph Movie Review: Hannah and Her Sisters

Two hundred and thirteenth film: Hannah and Her Sisters, a Woody Allen film with a typical (incredible) Woody Allen cast, typical Woody Allen New York scenery, typical Woody Allen jazz soundtrack, and typical Woody Allen fast, chirrupy dialogue about being depressed. Set in the 80s, it’s a story about three sisters and the absolutely tiny pool of men they marry and swap around, but the story isn’t the point. I’m not completely sure what the point IS, but as a person typically irritated by Woody Allen, it wasn’t too bad. For someone who spends every movie trying very much to prove how clever he is and offsetting it with what I presume he presumes is charming neurosis, at least Woody Allen has the frugality to keep doing it in the same outfit and the audacity to make a short speech about enjoying life that I actually agree with. The women were great. The men were there. The hors d’oeuvres looked delicious. Two and a half first date punk bands out of five.