Boris Yellnikoff: I happen to hate New Year’s celebrations. Everybody desperate to have fun. Trying to celebrate in some pathetic little way. Celebrate what? A step closer to the grave? That’s why I can’t say enough times, whatever love you can get and give, whatever happiness you can filch or provide, every temporary measure of grace, whatever works. And don’t kid yourself, it’s by no means all up to your own human ingenuity. A bigger part of your existence is luck than you’d like to admit. Christ, you know the odds of your father’s one sperm from the billions, finding the single egg that made you? Don’t think about it, you’ll have a panic attack.
So here we are, the last decade of Woody Allen’s directorial filmography (you can see my first three post here, here and here). I am going to be honest right away and say that I pretty much hate and/or dislike all of these films. Okay, maybe not all. There is one that I actually like and three that I thought were “okay,” but the rest I either dislike or downright hate. So my discussions of them are not going to be very long because frankly I don’t want to waste my time writing about them. Feel free to disagree all you want, but that’s just how I feel about it. Also, don’t forget about the Woody Allen Blogathon on Friday!