SPOILERS!

When watching a film for the first time, we delve into an alternate universe where a story is conjured up and presented onto a screen in front of our eyes. However we react to it, a movie leaves a lasting impression on us. From then on, we associate said movie with certain adjectives or the thought of it causes us to reminisce the emotions and state of mind that the film evoked. Thus, it’s no surprise that we tend to rewatch movies and deem them our favorites. We rewatch for we wish to revisit. We wish to relive the memories. We wish to return to the characters we fall in love with and the characters we love to hate. We wish to absorb the witty or insightful dialogue. We wish to trade in reality for a world where time doesn’t exist. That’s where Woody Allen has been so effective. Time and time again, he has been able to create worlds where the characters are so vividly written, the jokes are a-ha one-liners, and the situations revolve around realistic themes of love and loss. That’s why his films are such classics.

In 1977, Allen was catapulted into international stardom with his unconventional rom-com, Annie Hall, that went onto capture the Oscar for Best Picture. Some may view Annie Hall as Allen’s love letter to New York City as he showcases a romanticized view of the Upper East Side, but he never addresses New York City the way he does in the opening sequence of Manhattan—a movie that has a divorced writer falling in love with his best friend’s mistress while dating a teenage girl. All of the events in the film take place in, you guessed it, Manhattan.

The opening montage navigates through a collection of New York City landscapes. While this is happening, the background noise is filled with George Gershwin’s epic composition, Rhapsody in Blue, which uncannily captures the aura of this lively city; Woody Allen needs just this montage and Gershwin’s piece to significantly describe the indescribable New York City. He distributes Manhattan on a platter, overwhelmingly feeding the audience beautiful, crisp shots garnished with mesmerizing music.

The film starts off by introducing us to Isaac Davis (Woody Allen), an observant yet neurotic person. A twice divorced 42-year-old man, Isaac has nonchalantly developed a relationship with a precocious 17-year-old girl named Tracy (Muriel Hemingway—Ernest Hemingway’s granddaughter). While their ages are on opposite sides of the spectrum, so are their outlooks. Isaac is a bit self-centered and seeks pleasure in order to satisfy himself, yet Tracy yearns for an ideal relationship—one where both halves complement each other; she attempts to accomplish this by paying great attention to Isaac’s interests and suggestions and making them a part of her life. Tracy’s youth is clearly reflected through her naïveté. Because she is so inexperienced in the world of love, she behaves with Isaac as if they’re going to spend the rest of their lives together. This, of course, means that Isaac is to blame for attempting to inspire a relationship with someone far inferior in age and experience. It seems he knows that she is far too young for him, but Isaac is the one who ends up the immature one for he says such meaningful and unique sentiments to the 17-year-old and then decides to discard her in favor of some older and mature woman. Tracy’s innocent heartbreak is acted out so well while she’s sipping soda through a straw that Muriel Hemingway is able to display such an impressive range of emotion for someone so new to the acting world.

This film doesn’t just explore Isaac’s relationship with Tracy, but also his relationships with relationships. His sophisticated personality is no match for his true feelings when it comes to dating and thus he finds himself raveled in a cyclical mating dance—one where he experiences his fair share of euphoric highs and devastating lows. All of the supporting characters seem to be entangled in Isaac’s ill-fated narrative of love and loss. His ex-wife (Meryl Streep) divorces him and finds companionship with a woman, which results in her urge to write a tell-all memoir that chronicles details about Isaac and the factors that led to the demise of their relationship. Yale (Michael Murphy), Isaac’s close friend, is cheating on his wife and having an affair with Mary (Diane Keaton), a woman who comes off as extremely intelligent and opinionated despite having her fair share of insecurities. After Yale seemingly “dumps” Mary, he urges Isaac to pursue Mary; this simple notion results in Isaac dumping Tracy and chasing down Mary.

The same way that Sofia Coppola writes her love letter to Japan in Lost in Translation, Woody Allen does the same to New York City in this film. From the opening montage to the final shot of Manhattan’s skyscrapers, Allen successfully depicts the aspect of finding love in the city. The Queensboro Bridge at night. Chinese food in bed. Ventures into the Guggenheim Museum. Strolls in Central Park. These are all landmarks and meticulous quirks that not only resonate with a New Yorker, but also invite foreigners into this crowded urban environment which leaves them longing for this adventurous lifestyle. On a technical level, the lasting effect created by Manhattan is contributed to the use of widescreen black-and-white cinematography. The lack of any vibrant colors helps encapsulate the aura of New York City; this American landmark exudes such sophistication and timelessness that it doesn’t need color to show off its legacy. Gordon Willis’ crisp lighting also allows the characters to truly pop out of the screen. For example, the scene where Isaac and Mary sit on a bench beneath the Queensboro Bridge at five in the morning is so vividly filmed and displayed that that single shot could easily be framed and admired at a museum. In another scene, Tracey and Isaac are conversing at Isaac’s apartment. Of course, it would be expected to place the couple at the center of the screen, underlining them as the focus of the scene. Instead, Woody Allen places them at the left bottom corner of the shot and Willis highlights them in a circle of light that is juxtaposed with the completely dark remainder of the apartment; this is meant to get the point across of what Tracey brings to Isaac’s somewhat mundane life. In one of the stranger scenes, Isaac and Mary arrive at the Guggenheim after being soaked in a storm. They are seen walking through an exhibit that depicts galaxies in space. As they delve deeper into the exhibit, the light starts to disappear until we’re left with a dark background and two characters recognized by their silhouettes. It is in this instance where Willis forces the audience to focus on the two characters on the screen and the dialogue that they exchange. With a soft-spoken conversation and the short physical gap between them, it’s no arduous task to find the chemistry that Allen and Keaton so obviously share.

One of the more impressive turnouts from this film is how well it is able to distance itself from Allen’s previous film that propelled him and Keaton into infamy—Annie Hall. Released in 1977, Annie Hall had elements that were shared in the 1979 feature; both films took place at the heart of New York City and both chronicled the beginning and demise of a relationship between Allen and Keaton’s characters. While Annie Hall primarily focuses on Alvy and Annie and their journey, Manhattan solely focuses on Isaac. Isaac’s age may validate his maturity, yet the film shows evidence of the opposite. Like many younger people, Isaac doesn’t know what he wants, which is why he is so quick to pounce on the potential of a blooming relationship when he has the chance. As soon as Yale gives him the green light, Isaac pursues a relationship with Mary that was initially successful because both characters were alone. And then you look at Mary who Diane Keaton plays with ferocious precision. Some viewers may see Mary and Annie as two identical people, but what they’re really paying attention to is Ms. Keaton’s noticeable traits and quirks that personify her; it’s the same with Kristen Stewart and the way that her aloof and awkward mannerisms always single her out in the roles that she plays. Anyway, Mary comes off as much more sophisticated—or at least, that’s what she wants everyone around her to think as she consumes her dialogues with rants about things like Freudian psychology or honesty. Much like Isaac, she’s lonely yet she tries hard to avoid this characterization. After she breaks things off with Yale, Mary falls into Isaac’s arms. Once Mary realizes how lonely she still feels with Isaac though, she falls back into Yale’s arms. It could be Mary’s preferences or it could just be her loneliness that she vows to escape.

What I like most about this film—and in general, all Woody Allen films—is that it doesn’t follow the traditional formula of a romantic comedy; it doesn’t gloss over real-life situations with sappy dialogue or heartfelt reunions towards the end. In a perfect—and frankly, abnormal—world, boy meets girl. Boy and girl fall in love and live happily ever after. The end. No. Unfortunately, real life is not as straightforward as that and Woody Allen is pretty darn aware of that. We experience different characters in our world every day and Allen makes sure he incorporates these unique personalities into his narratives. For example, Isaac is never seen as a romantic or a heartthrob; instead, he acts and speaks upon instinct, even when his instinct tells him to do something selfish. Rather than encouraging precocious Tracy to study in London, he pleads for her to stay in New York with him. Despite being 17, Tracy is mature beyond her years and with her upbeat yet calm demeanor, she is able to let Isaac know that their time together has run its course with a simple line: “You have to have a little faith in people.”

And with all of that, Manhattan serves as the backdrop to these multiple narratives. New York City is so apparent in this film that it’s almost its own character thanks to Gordon Willis’ sharp photography. Wherever the characters converse, Manhattan surrounds them. Manhattan’s scenery brings the characters closer and more intimate. And when Isaac frantically runs to Tracy’s apartment in the end, Manhattan’s wide streets only accelerate Isaac’s urgent pleas towards Tracy. With this film, Woody Allen is able to truly emphasize New York City as an inescapable and everlasting presence in our lives.

CONSENSUS: 3.5 out of 4 cancer-causing frankfurters