It seems that so many people have strong feelings about Woody Allen. I do not—in either direction. Even without any bias, I was intrigued with his latest film, Blue Jasmine. And I’m glad I saw it. Like so many of my other movies this summer, this was on my radar based on it being “on a list” of movies to see. It deserved to be included.
The film makes many statements. Among them are those about family (the differences between these two sisters are glaring and gave us great material to debate after the movie: nature? nurture? (and the like)), about fidelity (Baldwin’s husband is the worst kind of self-absorbed in-love-with-himself ass, but it’s hard to feel sorry for Blanchett’s Jasmine as she plays along as long as she gets to live this life), and about the face we put forth for others (Jasmine’s willingness to be played a fool endures but only up to the moment her reputation will be directly tarnished if she continues). I never found the statements to be too one-sided (most everyone in the film has strong character flaws (but isn’t that life?)), but they certainly served as a great undercurrent to Jasmine’s new-found place in life.
Although the relationship between sisters and the façade of her married life are interesting, my favorite part of Jasmine’s story was that of her addiction (how much Stoli can one woman drink?) and her mental illness. Cate Blanchett’s character eats Xanax like candy—presumably for anxiety and panic attacks. But there’s also a blip of a reference to a treatment for major depression that gives viewers a glimpse into how deep her issues of mental health run. I found it interesting how much she teetered on the edge of another break, pulling forth all manner of “normalcy” that she could muster when absolutely necessary, which often showed how dangerously close to the edge she actually was. The end of the movie leaves the viewer with great opportunities to think about the effects of such as one fills in the blanks of what happens next.
Blanchett did a superb job portraying the various faces of Jasmine, gracefully showing Jasmine’s reserve to maintain appearances even while clearly falling apart. Sally Hawkins, playing Jasmine’s sister, Ginger, breathes freshness into the movie, leading me to cheer on her ability to find happiness. The rest of the cast supports them all well, but I did not find Sarsgaard particularly at his finest. (And in spite of who he plays in the film, I have a new crush in Louis C.K. Yes, I know. Whatever.)
I still do not feel strongly one way or another about Woody Allen. Blue Jasmine isn’t light. It isn’t necessarily important. But it is intriguing. And when I think about it, in me, it creates a pause. And that’s enough for this film-goer to recommend it—if that’s your sort of thing.