Broadway Danny Rose (PG.)
Directed by Woody Allen. 1984.
Starring Woody Allen, Mia Farrow, Nick Apollo Forte. Black and white. 82 mins. Available individually from Arrow on Blu-ray or as part of The Woody Allen Six Films 1979 -1985 Boxset
One of the great modern Christmas traditions is reminiscing about Morecambe and Wise. Tributes to them pop up all over the schedules and it seems to me that what we are bewailing is not the passing of a double act (heresy I know, but perhaps not quite as hilarious as myth would have it) but the pining for the age of showbusiness. Back in the 70s, the age of three channel certainty, Morecambe and Wise thrived because of this shared culture that they could work against. The showbusiness hierarchy was hideously unjust and rigid but there was a comfort to it. It was a society. It was so entrenched back then, but a decade later it had been blown apart. After the initial ideological fury of alternative comedy had bought itself out, it was replaced by a multi channel chaos of celebrities and reality TV: a Naked Variety Performance where everybody can see the desperation and craven desire behind every act.
Which brings us to Broadway Danny Rose, Allen's homage to showbiz tradition, and though I doubt anybody quite appreciated it when it came out in 1984, his warning about what we would lose when we gave up on it. The film is even framed as a reminiscence: a group of comics gather at the Carnegie Deli (the one time I went to New York it was closed) sharing gags and stories about the old days, until the topic of Danny Rose comes up. Rose is a theatrical agent who manages terrible acts – blind xylophone players, balloon folders, stuttering ventriloquists – but does so with passion and belief. After some brief anecdotes the group is told to settle back for the ultimate Danny Rose story, involving his one good act, 50s crooner Lou Canova (Forte) and his mob connected girlfriend Tina Vitale (Farrow.)
Broadway Danny Rose is definitely up there among the best of his films. It's funny, not hilarious, but the good lines are really good and they stick with you. During the early scene when Rose is trying to push some of his desperate acts on a booker, I could almost Karaoke some of the lines, “I'll let you have her at the old price; which is anything you want to give me. Anything at all.” It's also the film where the black and white work best. The composition of the shot in the storage room for the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade balloons is probably the most beautiful in any Woody film. (Gordon Willis, who shot all The Godfathers for Coppola, worked on all of Woody's films from this period, starting with Annie Hall and finishing with Purple Rose.) It has the first really good Mia Farrow performance in one of his films as the hard hearted Tina. It's probably the only Woody film that could be described as a caper, as for much of the time he's being chased by a couple of mafia hoods intent on giving him a sever beating or worse.
The most exceptional thing about it though is that it is the first time Woody Allen actually plays a character. In the early funny films he'd used his stand up comic persona, which he'd adapted into a version of himself in the films after Annie Hall. His distinctive look and delivery means Danny Rose does still bear a strong resemblance to Woody Allen, but there are crucial differences. Rose isn't intellectual and he is fundamentally optimistic. Allen writes in lots of catchphrases for him: “Could I just interject one point here?” “I say this with all due sincerity,” “How old are you dear?” “I don't mean to be didactic or facetious in any way,” and using quotes from his distant and deceased relatives to illustrate his points. All taken from his days as a nightclub comic he uses these bits of schtick as mantras that can get him through any social situations.
Directed by Woody Allen. 1984.
Starring Woody Allen, Mia Farrow, Nick Apollo Forte. Black and white. 82 mins. Available individually from Arrow on Blu-ray or as part of The Woody Allen Six Films 1979 -1985 Boxset
One of the great modern Christmas traditions is reminiscing about Morecambe and Wise. Tributes to them pop up all over the schedules and it seems to me that what we are bewailing is not the passing of a double act (heresy I know, but perhaps not quite as hilarious as myth would have it) but the pining for the age of showbusiness. Back in the 70s, the age of three channel certainty, Morecambe and Wise thrived because of this shared culture that they could work against. The showbusiness hierarchy was hideously unjust and rigid but there was a comfort to it. It was a society. It was so entrenched back then, but a decade later it had been blown apart. After the initial ideological fury of alternative comedy had bought itself out, it was replaced by a multi channel chaos of celebrities and reality TV: a Naked Variety Performance where everybody can see the desperation and craven desire behind every act.
Which brings us to Broadway Danny Rose, Allen's homage to showbiz tradition, and though I doubt anybody quite appreciated it when it came out in 1984, his warning about what we would lose when we gave up on it. The film is even framed as a reminiscence: a group of comics gather at the Carnegie Deli (the one time I went to New York it was closed) sharing gags and stories about the old days, until the topic of Danny Rose comes up. Rose is a theatrical agent who manages terrible acts – blind xylophone players, balloon folders, stuttering ventriloquists – but does so with passion and belief. After some brief anecdotes the group is told to settle back for the ultimate Danny Rose story, involving his one good act, 50s crooner Lou Canova (Forte) and his mob connected girlfriend Tina Vitale (Farrow.)
Broadway Danny Rose is definitely up there among the best of his films. It's funny, not hilarious, but the good lines are really good and they stick with you. During the early scene when Rose is trying to push some of his desperate acts on a booker, I could almost Karaoke some of the lines, “I'll let you have her at the old price; which is anything you want to give me. Anything at all.” It's also the film where the black and white work best. The composition of the shot in the storage room for the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade balloons is probably the most beautiful in any Woody film. (Gordon Willis, who shot all The Godfathers for Coppola, worked on all of Woody's films from this period, starting with Annie Hall and finishing with Purple Rose.) It has the first really good Mia Farrow performance in one of his films as the hard hearted Tina. It's probably the only Woody film that could be described as a caper, as for much of the time he's being chased by a couple of mafia hoods intent on giving him a sever beating or worse.
The most exceptional thing about it though is that it is the first time Woody Allen actually plays a character. In the early funny films he'd used his stand up comic persona, which he'd adapted into a version of himself in the films after Annie Hall. His distinctive look and delivery means Danny Rose does still bear a strong resemblance to Woody Allen, but there are crucial differences. Rose isn't intellectual and he is fundamentally optimistic. Allen writes in lots of catchphrases for him: “Could I just interject one point here?” “I say this with all due sincerity,” “How old are you dear?” “I don't mean to be didactic or facetious in any way,” and using quotes from his distant and deceased relatives to illustrate his points. All taken from his days as a nightclub comic he uses these bits of schtick as mantras that can get him through any social situations.
