"Apropos Of Nothing" -- Book Review

 

This summer, I read “Apropos Of Nothing”, Woody Allen’s autobiography. 

Review

Allow me to simplify this for you right from the start:  if you are a Woody Allen fan who does not believe he is guilty of what he has been accused of, then this book is a must read.  On the other hand, if you are one of those people who believes he is guilty without any proof of such guilt, then you’ll obviously not read this book.  In fact, you probably shouldn’t even read this review.  If you’ve even read this far, it’s surprising.  Obviously, if I have read this book, I’m a member of the former rather than the latter. 

If you want to know why, then you’ll just have to do your own research, which would include watching the documentary, “By The Way, Woody Allen Is Innocent”, because there’s a significant amount of information there to make you question the accusations (not to mention the blogs of his adopted son Moses, which is a first-hand account that refutes many of the family’s accusations). Additionally, there is the information Allen provides in this book – but whether or not you choose to believe what’s already in the public record, that’s completely up to you.

As for the book itself, it is somewhat unconventional – not unlike its subject.  Specifically, it is not divided into actual numbered or even titled chapters; instead, it is divided into sections of anywhere from 15 to 30 pages, presumably done to create a sense of continuous flow of a single story.  That said, however, Allen does traverse his tale in a more or less chronological fashion.  Despite the relentlessly bad press he’s suffered through over the past few years, Allen never comes across as ever feeling sorry for himself; quite the opposite in fact – he often wonders at how unbelievably lucky he has been throughout the majority of his life. 

Once Allen reaches the point where he begins his filmmaking career, he starts alternating between his experiences making each movie and his personal life at that time.  “Husbands And Wives” was the last film he made with Mia Farrow – and despite the fact that they were in the middle of their very controversial and public breakup at that point, he claims that everyone remained professional enough to be able to finish the shoot in a timely fashion.  If you are looking for detailed technical information about precisely how Allen shot his motion pictures as a director, you’ll be sorely disappointed; he claims that it’s not a subject that’s interested him and that he was always too lazy to learn the specifics (which is why he left everything to the knowledgeable professionals).

The book is neither a text on moviemaking nor a tabloid-like tell-all; that said, it’s certainly not a boring read – in fact, it’s quite entertaining.  Unsurprisingly, Allen tosses in some good jokes periodically – and they pay-off particularly well due to the fact that they take the reader completely by surprise.  Most of these jokes, of course, are in the typical Allen self-effacing style, so they should be rather familiar to his fans.  Also, as an accomplished writer, Allen inserts some quite literary references, so as not to disappoint his more erudite fans. 

If there is any criticism of this book, it is in the lack of certain details regarding his personal life – and I’m not talking about the sleazy details between Allen and Farrow.  Instead, it would have to do with two of his long-time friends and collaborators.  For example, he mentions Mickey Rose and Marshall Brickman, but never explains exactly why he stopped co-writing screenplays with them.  This is particularly curious given the fact that that Rose, Allen’s friend since their childhood in Brooklyn, passed away a few years ago.  He also makes no direct allusions to Eric Lax, who wrote two of Allen’s biographies, but does seem to suggest that he may have hoodwinked Lax regarding the origin of how Allen Stewart Konigsberg changed his name to Woody Allen.