Friday nights at a downtown movie theatre one sees mostly couples. I’m intrigued by older couples. Each couple seems to have an unspoken/secret language. There are sexy older couples – she decked out in a tight dress, piled up hair; he in snug khakis and a blue shirt. Then there are Ralph Lauren couples with shiny penny loafers and good breeding, real or pretend. My favorite couples are leftovers from the 1960s, jean-clad, with minimal adornment. If you’re together for a while, it seems you start looking and dressing alike. Which brings me to Woody Allen’s “Blue Jasmine”.

“Blue Jasmine” is about couples organized by social class. Manhattan and Jersey Shore, even if it’s San Fran. But it’s not the growing old together couples, but fractured ones. Yes, it’s a reselling of “A Streetcar Named Desire”, but in some ways it seems sadder and more hopeless than Streetcar. The women delude themselves, the men seem either brutish, foolish or slimy. Not a comedic Woody Allen, and in the vein of today’s film and television culture, unlikeability is the thing. The warmest thing in the movie was Ginger’s apartment with its 1940’s shabby vibe. Something good out to happen there, like in “Radio Days”.


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