"Anything Else" (anything else, allow me the translation) is a 2003 film written, directed, and marginally acted by a far from washed-up Woody Allen.

The cast features, in leading roles, Christina Ricci, a soft and sensual pepper pot, Jason Biggs, a revelation in a new romantic-dramatic role following the bawdy episodes of "American Pie," and in less obvious roles Stockard Channing, Glenn Close, Danny DeVito (a failed talent agent with a single client), Jimmy Fallon, and Diana Krall.

In this installment of his filmography, the director persists in exploring themes most congenial to him: the world of entertainment, artists, romantic conflicts, psychoanalysis, literati, and agents. The settings are in the usual New York, perhaps a bit more cynical than usual. The director employs two very young and frankly well-chosen protagonists. He (Biggs) is an idealistic and dreamy romantic; she (Ricci) is a faithless man-eater with a hard heart and a sweet face. The couple lives together in a surreal atmosphere, filled with constant interferences (her mother, a former artist and alcoholic, moves in) and uncertainties about the future, which destabilize the serenity of the young comedian Biggs.

Pleasant is the role of the mother-hen/life master that Allen plays with awkward elegance. The series of phobias (a classic by now) that the little man detonates in front of the younger new friend Biggs, who ends up adopting behavioral guidelines amidst the excesses of the rebellious old man, is entertaining as always. The climax is tense. From the stories of the characters, more messed up than ever, and from the dull urban bustle. All this to demonstrate a somewhat pessimistic and distrustful phase towards the future for the good New York director.

Allen plays the most antisocial character ever seen and is amusing in each of his disjointed reactions, just as in his biting quips. It is a film where the dialogues are intense and pleasant, and the characters’ dissertations abundantly meander over Allenian thought, from weapons to societal conflicts, from women to simple daily urban problems. With a keen critical eye, one could even say that Allen was doubly clever, confirming himself as an irreplaceable examiner of the theme of unsatisfactory and terribly imperfect romantic conflict (see the relationship of the two youngsters), as well as a philosopher and master dispensing pearls of wisdom to an attentive and eager young sapling, continuously watered. Allen is thus destabilizing yet produces the desired result: saving a soul from its own demise by relaunching its ambitions. The director never abandons himself and continues to see himself, if you will, to repeat himself in the eternal themes of his life. Only this time, he amazes with the richness of the contents expressed: a raging river.

Biggs' "salvation" ultimately derives from the attempted indoctrination by the "bad teacher."

Successful, amusing, fresh and pleasant. Allen has been redefining the meaning of comedy for years, presenting the audience with a genre that embodies the ideas and personality of the director to such an extent that it ends up being unique and unrepeatable. This man's sober expression, the technique, and the balance of lighting in each of his scenes (the magic with which an environment anticipates and conveys the mood of the characters in play), the rhythm of the gags, and the structural style have now become a genre unto itself. A form of cinema now appreciated and followed, recognized and unquestionably valid, making this man an almost scholastic resource for future directors, who will be able to, hopefully, draw freely from the mastery of this prolific artist. Because one day, it could be justly said, "ah, look, an Allenism".

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