Annie Hall achieved international acclaim and cemented its place in film history when it won four Oscars in 1978, including Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actress, and Best Screenplay.  Woody Allen’s masterpiece is often considered one of the funniest movies in the history of American cinema.  The film can be examined on a number of levels, from artistic, theoretical, and historical perspectives.  Cowie looks at the film in terms of its role as both a reflection of and major influence during the 1970s, which served as a critical time for Hollywood and the film industry.  He also looks at the film as an expression of the filmmaker: Woody Allen.  Woody Allen never denies that his role as Alvy Singer is somewhat autobiographical and Cowie uses this to analyze the features of Allen’s life and personality that can be derived from the film.  Woody Allen harbors a sense of mystery and complexity, which makes many of his films, especially Annie Hall, the best insight to his true self.  Cowie researches and analyzes the origins of Annie Hall both in terms of Allen’s motivations that led him to the story as well as the logistical factors that affected the making of the film.  The significance of Allen’s relationship with Diane Keaton as well as his obsession with New York City are evident not only through the content of Annie Hall, but even more so when one looks at the development of the film.  In addition, Cowie observes the artistic and cinematic features of Annie Hall, many of which he argues are derived from Ingmar Bergman as well as from vaudeville traditions of stand-up comedians.  Finally, Cowie addresses the actual content of the film in terms of cultural meaning and its appeal to viewers.  He looks at Allen’s rampant and blatant use of stereotypes and the role of such stereotypes in this film, as well as in many of Allen’s other films.  Cowie argues that despite the use of these potentially offensive stereotypes, Annie Hall manages to maintain a universal and lasting appeal because of Allen’s willingness to reveal his vulnerability and insecurities to the viewer.

            The second chapter of Sam B. Girgus’s The Films of Woody Allen provides an interesting perspective on one of Allen’s most renowned films, Annie Hall.  Chapter 2, entitled “Desire and Narrativity in Annie Hall,” addresses the relationship between desire and narrative and the role of this relationship in Annie Hall.  Girgus relies on the philosophical and theoretical studies of Roland Barthes and Teresa de Lauretis to express the way in which desire serves as a function of narrativity and therefore asserts that desire and narrativity are inextricably intertwined.  According to this theory, narrativity stems from the Oedipal experience that occurs in the search for one’s identity and sexuality.  The first evidence of this relationship between desire and narrativity in Annie Hall occurs through Woody Allen’s manipulation of time and space, which he achieves by juxtaposing Alvy Singer’s opening speech with multiple scenes that display drastic shifts in temporal order.  This chronological distortion explicitly demonstrates the complex nature of narrativity within this film and its tendency to then process desire.  In addition, Girgus introduces language into the relationship between desire and narrativity.  He argues that this intricate relationship between desire, narrative, and language is exemplified through the humor of Annie Hall, both visually as well as verbally.  Inherent in this analysis of the narrative content of the film is the issue of Allen’s stereotypical and narcissistic narrative desires.  Allen dilutes the potential for negative backlash from such narrative desires by directly confronting his manipulation and use of narrative desire within the film with direct references to Freud and psychoanalysis.  The inclusion of such references creates a unique sense of metacommentary, which contributes to the humor of the film and allows Allen to get away with his use of narrative desire.  The chapter also addresses Allen’s portrayal of the impossible nature of human desire for complete harmony and satisfaction.  This chapter provides a very dense and theoretical analysis of Annie Hall in terms of both content and visual depiction in the context of narrative desire. 

            John C. Spurlock writes a comprehensive and astute assessment of David Shumway’s book Modern Love: Romance, Intimacy, and the Marriage Crisis.  Spurlock synthesizes Shumway’s study of modern relationships and the development of romantic love over past few centuries.  Shumway, a professor of English and Literary and Cultural Studies at Carnegie Mellon University, analyzes the transformation of the discourse of romance and the narrative form of romantic love.  He relies on “historical work on the family, sexuality, courtship, and marriage… show[ing] that an important shift in the understanding and uses of romance appears in the late 18^th and early 19^th century.”  He asserts that novels were the main “carriers of romantic discourse” in the 19^th century and that as a shift to the increase of personal expectations from marriage occurred, so did the rate of divorce, which led to the so-called marriage crisis.  Shumway studies the marriage crisis through the frames of intimacy and romance.  Throughout the twentieth century, the discourse of romance, love, marriage, and intimacy continued to change and the idea of love repeatedly reinvented itself.  These shifts in discourse were reflected through the literature and culture of the time.  Advice writers became prevalent and the new connotations of love and romance were depicted in the development of the screwball comedy.  In the way that literature was a carrier of romantic discourse in the late 18^th and 19^th centuries, film also became such a carrier in the 20^th century.  As the marriage crisis became a more serious issue due to the transformation of the idea of modern love and the increasing divorce rate, these advice writers and films that addressed marriage and romance began to play larger roles in society.  Shumway explores the challenges associated with achieving the 20^th century ideal of intimacy by observing popular and timely films such as Annie Hall (1977) and When Harry Met Sally (1989).  These films provide insight into the culturally accepted definitions of such ideals as intimacy, romance, and love, while also revealing the subtexts associated with these ideals.  This article does a remarkable job of synthesizing a convoluted and complex body of literature, but it is still not as sufficient or comprehensive as Shumway’s actual text.  In terms of the article’s relevancy to Woody Allen’s Annie Hall, the article does not address Annie Hall in detail, but it does demonstrate how such a film can both reflect and generate cultural ideals including love, intimacy, and romance, which is arguably the most important role of the film. 

            At first glance, this article appears to be a feminist piece about the representation of women when the narratives of women are told by men.  It is ironic and surprising that the author, Christopher J. Knight, is in fact a man and not a woman.  Knight asserts that representation in any form is inherently biased and subjective.  In addition, Knight explores what happens when, “the narrative that goes by the name of ‘women’ is told largely by men,” which he argues was a common happening until recently.  He quotes Laura Mulvey’s famous response to this question as fact.  Mulvey states, “the woman comes to stand as a ‘signifier for the male other, bound by a symbolic order in which man can live out his fantasies and obsessions through linguistic command, by imposing on the silent image of woman still tied to her place as a bearer of meaning, not maker of meaning.”  At this point in the article, Knight takes an unexpected turn.  One would have expected him to continue to argue that there exists a male-dominated society in which the tendency for men to create and communicate narratives about women constructs women in a male-oriented frame.  Instead, Knight chooses to abandon that argument and reassert the purpose of his article, which is to look at Woody Allen’s Annie Hall in the context of such a framework.  Knight states that he wishes to “address the film in terms of the subtle and not so subtle ways that men impose meaning upon women.”  Despite the obvious element that since Woody Allen wrote and directed the film, the life and image of Annie Hall will inevitably have a man imposing meaning upon a woman, Knight contends that Annie Hall manages to resist this imposition.  Alvy Singer is the one who introduces and tells the viewer Annie’s story, and therefore everything that we know about Annie is told from Alvy’s point of view.  Knight argues, however, that the nature of the narrative and Alvy’s character allows the viewer to “accept Alvy’s representation as less perspectival than normative.”  This article provides a unique critical assessment of the film and, while it is somewhat narrow in scope, it provides insight into Woody Allen’s motivations as a narrator and the relationship between Alvy and Annie.   

            In Loser Take All: The Comic Art of Woody Allen, Maurice Yacowar traces Woody Allen’s transformation from a “cult favorite into America’s foremost humorist” (1).  The turning point of this transformation is generally attributed to the success of Annie Hall.  Not only did Annie Hall do phenomenally well at the box office, but it was also nominated for five Oscars and won four, including Best Picture, Best Screenplay, and Best Director, all which could be directly attributed to Woody Allen.  Yacowar asserts that just because comedy is lighthearted in nature, there is an underlying seriousness and significance inherent in humor, especially in the case of Woody Allen, which makes it essential to critically study his films.  While humor can initially seem dismissible due to its comedic and blithe nature, Woody Allen instills such meaning and honesty in his humor that it often holds more meaning than dramatic counterparts.  This humor is apparent in every single one of Allen’s films, although some to a greater degree than others.  Allen is able to consistently convey meaning about serious topics such as loneliness, anxiety, love, and existentialism through his humor.  Allen also explores the relationship between life and art through this humor, and it is through such humor that the viewer is able to define the meaning and implications his work.  Yacowar specifically addresses each of Allen’s individual films and demonstrates how they uniquely use humor to create and communicate deeper meaning.  Due to the chronological structure of the book, Yacowar shows how each film influences and leads to the next film in Woody Allen’s repertoire.  One major issue in Annie Hall is the blurring of reality and fantasy.  Allen makes it difficult to discern to what degree the film is autobiographical and therefore a realistic portrayal of his life and thoughts.  This ambiguity is further compounded by his direct addresses to the audience.  This blurring of the line between reality and fantasy manifests itself multiple times throughout the film, thereby repeatedly challenging the viewer. 

            William Cook’s article from the New Statesman addresses how Woody Allen has caused Europeans to embrace the United States, specifically New York City, through his epitomized portrayal of the city in his films.  The wide reception of Woody Allen’s films in Europe, especially by the French and the British, has turned Allen into a venerated figure in these respective countries.  Cook argues that Allen’s depiction of Manhattan through his films is only an “immaculate illusion” and is therefore deceptive in its portrayal of the landscape.  Cook includes a quote from Allen in which he states, “I constantly run into Europeans whose only sense of New York comes from Manhattan and Annie Hall…If that's what they're expecting to find, I guess they're disappointed.”  Cook does not explicitly reveal whether or not he feels that this is a good or bad concept, but rather just brings it to light to let the reader draw his or her own conclusions.  The essence of this article is Cook’s exploration of what makes Woody Allen’s films so appealing to European viewers, but Cook manages to put it in a larger context by tying in the relationship of the United States with France.

            Cook’s article deals more with the relationship of Woody Allen and his fans in Europe serving as a microcosm for the relationship of the United States and European countries such as France and England than it does with any specifics of the film Annie Hall.  That being said, Cook tackles an interesting perspective regarding the reception of Woody Allen’s films, including that of Annie Hall and focuses on Allen’s portrayal of New York City in the film.  New York City plays a major role in Annie Hall and exploring its significance as the film’s landscape is essential to a comprehensive analysis.  Therefore, while this article is not specifically or directly relevant to Annie Hall, the connotations and implications that this articles holds can be extraordinarily pertinent and vital to an analysis of Annie Hall. 

            In this critical piece, Philip Kerr argues that in American cinema there is an underlying sense of embarrassment or discomfort with the idea of love, which leads to the inclusion of humor in films that deal directly with love.  Kerr asserts that it is for this reason that the majority of romance films in American cinema in recent years have been romantic comedies.  Kerr cites Annie Hall (1977), When Harry Met Sally (1989), Sleepless in Seattle (1993), While You Were Sleeping (1995), As Good as it Gets (1997), and What Women Want (2000) among examples of these romantic comedies.  He argues that European cinema is not faced with such restrictions and inhibitions and therefore explores love in much more serious tones and treats it with greater respect.  Kerr takes this argument one step further to assert, rather radically, that “outside New York and Los Angeles, Americans don’t feel comfortable with the English language… which is the polite way of saying that outside the big cities, most Americans are plain inarticulate.”  Kerr does not make it clear how he arrives at such a conclusion based on his earlier allegation that Americans are uncomfortable addressing love and romance directly.  He does not provide the reader with definitions of what he means by inarticulate, so it is hard to determine exactly what Kerr is arguing.  There is a definite negative undertone to his critique of American cinema in contrast with European cinema, but he does not provide any reason as to why Americans and Europeans might address love differently, nor does he introduce any ways to remedy the situation.  The problem with Kerr’s argument is that, while he shows an association between the proliferation of romantic comedies and the sense of discomfort with love in American society, he does not provide enough evidence to prove a causal relationship between the two concepts.  This article has minimal relevance to Woody Allen’s Annie Hall, though it does put it in the context of the modern romantic comedy and set it in a group of potential comparable and notable films.  It is important to look at articles such as this one that examine Annie Hall in a much larger context so as not to get caught up only in articles that look specifically at the minute details and underpinnings of the specific film itself.  It is easy to find oneself looking only at character analyses and symbolism within the cinematography of a particular film, which can sometimes cause one to lose sight of the film in the larger context of its role in American cinema and the connotations that its place in film history bring to the film. 

           This article by Marion Meade explores the history and inception of Woody Allen’s Annie Hall.  According to Meade, Annie Hall, which ranked number thirty-one on the American Film Institute’s 1998 list of the best 100 movies ever made, is a self-reflective film based on Woody Allen’s own life, “parading his insecurities, phobias and deep self-deprecation.”  Despite Woody Allen’s financial and cinematic success and his apparent optimism about growing older referenced in a New York Times article from 1975, Woody apparently experienced anhedonia.  Anhedonia is the psychoanalytic term for the inability to experience pleasure.  Coincidentally, Annie Hall was originally titled Anedonia until United Artists, the studio that was backing Allen’s film, forced him to change the title.  The film is a semi-autobiographical account of Allen’s life and, more specifically, his (mostly failed) relationships.
            The premise of the article is that despite the film’s wild and enduring success, the creation of the film was not as smooth as one might think.  In fact, as the title of the article suggests, the film was so problematic that it almost did not get made.  When Ralph Rosenblum, the film’s editor, initially started looking through Allen’s 100,000 feet of footage he stated that it was “‘an untitled and chaotic collection of bits and pieces that
seemed to defy continuity,’ and he held little hope for popular success.”  The biggest obstacle for Rosenblum and Allen was trying to find a linear plot that rescued the film from being a scattered stream of consciousness monologue.  Rosenblum was able to do this by focusing on Alvy Singer’s relationship with Annie Hall, or rather Woody Allen’s relationship with Diane Keaton.  Even though this new focus allowed the studio to change the title to Annie Hall, the film is truly about Alvy Singer and his struggle with himself and his relationships.  Another major obstacle in the promotion of this film was Allen’s aversion to Hollywood and the use of publicity and marketing to promote the film.  Even though Woody Allen was supported by a major studio, his style was much more in line with that of an independent filmmaker than a Hollywood filmmaker.  This article is extremely relevant to history of Annie Hall and has a high level of credibility due to Meade’s use of legitimate sources including editor Ralph Rosenblum, Woody Allen himself, UA executives Eric Pleskow and Gabe Sumner, and her use of direct quotes from the film as evidence to support her arguments.

            This article addresses the popularity and subsequent significance of both the romantic and the screwball comedy.  The main difference between the screwball comedy and the romantic comedy is that the former tends to emphasize humor and absurdity, while the latter focuses on love and romance.  Both variations of the genre are comedic in nature, but distinct types of character behavior differentiate the two separate subgenres.  Screwball comedies originated in the 1930s with It Happened One Night (1934) with Claudette Colbert and Clark Gable and My Man Godfrey (1936) with Carole Lombard, but have still have almost exact parallels to modern films such as Runaway Bride (1999) with Julia Roberts and Richard Gere and Housesitter (1992) with Goldie Hawn and Steve Martin.  The main distinction between the behavior of characters in screwball comedies versus those in romantic comedies occurs in the tendency for characters to engage in eccentric and wacky feats throughout the film in screwball comedies as compared to the much more somber actions of characters in romantic comedies.  This is most evident in the role of the heroine.  Wes Gehring uses the example of Katherine Hepburn’s outrageous antics in the classic screwball comedy, Bringing Up Baby (1938), in comparison with the more serious actions of Irene Dunne in Love Affair (1939), a classic romantic comedy.  The behavior and personality of the heroine affects the behavior and personalities of the supporting characters.  As a result, the other main characters in screwball comedies tend to exhibit similar eccentricity, while the other main characters in romantic comedies are appropriately composed and conventional.  This, however, is not always true for the heroine’s male counterpart.  In order to make up for the relative solemnity of the heroine in romantic comedies, the male counterpart is often somewhat significantly less reserved.  This has given rise to the trend for the male lead in romantic comedies to be a stand-up comedian or at least possess similar qualities and demeanor.  Though this article never directly references Woody Allen’s Annie Hall (1977), the content of the article is directly applicable to the film.  Annie Hall is a classic example of a romantic comedy, which borders on the realm of a screwball comedy due to the characters’ eccentricity, but nonetheless retains a somber enough feeling to remain a romantic comedy.  Woody Allen’s role as Alvy Singer is a perfect example of the use of a more free-spirited male lead to counteract the relative seriousness of the heroine, in this case Diane Keaton as Annie Hall.  Woody Allen is a stand-up comic who adds humor and eccentricity to the narrative and uses this humor to play off of Diane Keaton, which balances the seriousness of the love story with the comedic nature of their relationship.

           Douglas Brode’s updated edition of Woody Allen: his films & career begins with a concise “interpretation of Woody Allen” and then chronicles his career one film at a time from What’s New, Pussycat (1965) to Hannah and Her Sisters (1986).  Brode does not present much analysis or opinion in his description of the different films, but manages to succinctly offer an inclusive recount of the development of each film as well as a summary, though somewhat superficial.  He provides an extended cast and credit list for each film and specifically addresses the roles that many of the key players perform in the motivation and creation of each film.  As per the description of Annie Hall, the text is significantly enhanced by the inclusion of incredibly evocative and telling still photographs from the film.  The description itself addresses the renaming of the film to Annie Hall after United Artists refused to let Woody Allen use his original title of Anhedonia.  Brode also confronts the issue of feminism and the message that Woody Allen is trying to convey about the role of women in relationships through his depiction of the relationship between Annie Hall and Alvy Singer.  Alvy’s narcissistic tendencies and the allegation that Annie Hall glorifies and promotes a narcissistic culture are noted in this section, but never analyzed.  The section on Annie Hall establishes the functionof this particular film within the framework of Allen’s other films.  Brode looks at how Allen’s earlier films such as What’s Up, Tiger Lily (1966), Take the Money and Run (1969), and Bananas (1971) influenced Annie Hall.  Many features of these earlier films can be seen in Annie Hall, but conversely, Allen makes significant strides between these earlier films and Annie Hall, and therefore the film marks major progress in both Allen’s narrative and cinematic form.  Brode also reveals the way in which Allen uses inspiration from Annie Hall in many of his later films.