“ALICE OF THE SPIRITS”

By Raymond Benson

Revisiting Woody Allen’s 1990 film Alice after all these years brought on many emotions. I instruct the students in my Film History class at the College of DuPage in Glen Ellyn, Illinois, that one must always judge a film within the context of when it was released. These days, it’s difficult to do so with the formidable filmography of Woody Allen. Can one put aside the context of when this film was released? Alice was made while the writer/director’s relationship with his star, Mia Farrow, was supposedly still rosy, less than a couple of years before the familial scandal erupted that has dogged the filmmaker ever since. Can one ignore the presence—throughout the film—of young Dylan Farrow, playing the role of Alice’s daughter? Or, ironically, the small role played by James Toback in the film? (Readers familiar with what’s been going on in Hollywood lately will understand that comment.)

At the same time, Cinema Retro’s editor-in-chief recently said, “What, are we to pretend that Allen’s entire career never existed? Our job is to evaluate the artistry, not the personal morality. Otherwise we’d quickly run out of people to write about.”

Indeed.

Nevertheless, I couldn’t help examining Alice as an omniscient behind-the-scenes spectator. Oddly, I’ve reviewed several new Blu-ray releases of Allen’s movies for Cinema Retro over the past few years, and I’ve never felt this kind of discomfort. That doesn’t mean I can’t critique the movie’s merits, it’s just that Woody Allen’s oeuvre now comes with baggage. One must simply unpack it and look at what’s there on the screen.

Alice is actually a pretty good entry in the director’s work. Considering that he’s made nearly fifty films, this one probably belongs in the lower half of the list in ranking, but certainly nowhere near the bottom. It’s a solid 2-1/2 or 3-star effort (out of 4), mainly due to Mia Farrow’s excellent performance as the mousy but rich Manhattan housewife who desperately wants to change her life—but doesn’t know it yet.

Alice is married to wealthy, but stuffy, Doug (William Hurt), who has a high-powered job. This leaves Alice to tend to her two small children (when they’re not cared for by nannies and maids), hang out with her socialite friends, and get her nails and hair done. It’s a very superficial life until she meets Joe (Joe Mantegna), a divorced father, at her children’s school. Another hard left turn is when Alice visits a mysterious Chinese doctor (Keye Luke), who hypnotizes her, gives her strange herbs to take, and pushes her into a fantasy world that turns her own upside down.

In many ways, Alice is a companion piece to The Purple Rose of Cairo (1985), another of Allen’s more whimsical pieces that deals with fanciful situations. In Alice, Farrow’s character can become invisible and spy on people, she can meet up with her deceased first boyfriend (Alec Baldwin) and fly over the city with him, and she can recreate childhood memories involving her parents and sister. It’s these elements that make Alice a fun, if fluffy, romp. It is also in many ways somewhat an homage to Federico Fellini’s Juliet of the Spirits (1965), in which a bored housewife ventures into fantasy sequences to escape the doldrums of her philandering husband and to better her own life.

Farrow owns the movie. For most of it, Alice is timid, nervous, and hesitant to try new things—but Farrow infuses these qualities with a great deal of charm. She literally lights up the screen with beauty and a winning pathos. Then there are the moments when she breaks out of this “shell”—such as when one of the doctor’s herbs makes her suggestive and flirtatious, notched up to eleven. Her seduction scene with Joe in the school waiting area is not only hilarious, but her transformation is masterful. One comes away from it thinking, “Wow, I didn’t know Mia Farrow could do that!” (Farrow was nominated for a Golden Globe—and she won the Best Actress award from the National Board of Review—for her performance.)