Word: comically
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...Michael Jackson), hung up on his pole and tormented by rascally birds. Jackson sings a piteous lament, to the effect that "you can't win, you can't break even, and you can't get out of the game." Wiz Composer Charlie Smalls is a gifted comic writer, and soon Nipsey Russell, whose rusty tin man is easily the best characterization of the film, sings an oozy and oleaginous Smalls ballad, Slide Some Oil to Me. To ward the end, awful Evillene, the Wicked Witch of the West (Mabel King), rumbles out a menacing hard-rocker...
WOODY ALLEN is the comic laureate of our age. Nothing against George Carlin, he of the long hair, cute dirty words and drug jokes, but Woody stands head and glasses above anyone else in terms of the absolute number, quality, diversity and insightfulness of the comic ideas he has produced. Woody the loveable neurotic forces the audience to laugh at its own foibles and fuck-ups. Allen often reaches a peak of manic intensity amazing in such a small, redhaired nebbish of a man. So how does he do it? What makes Woody Allen funny...
...yield a few insights into Woody. But if you're looking for clues to Woody, write off this film. On the other hand, if you don't mind (or even welcome) a light, superficial portrait of Allen that amuses if not informs, go see it. Besides, the six short comic films that accompany the half-hour-long portrait of Allen are quite good, ranging from the couple-of-chuckles Betty Boop cartoon to the brilliant parodies of Bergman and Star Wars...
...documentary, despite Mantell's efforts to the contrary, is not wholly bereft of insights into Woody or chances to view sides of the man not often seen. When Allen says he would rather risk failure by experimenting with comic possibilities less familiar to him instead of "going with my strength, always making hits," but not growing as a performer, one begins to understand what led him to produce a straight movie like The Front and then move on to the Bergmanesque Interiors. And the shots of Allen at home talking casually to the unseen documentarian and playing his clarinet...
...play sometimes seems as richly secretive as a bank vault, Michael Kahn's obtuse direction fails to supply the cast with the 'combination that would unlock its hidden treasures. As a coarse, blustery doctor whose best medicine is home truth, Louis Zorich does manage to establish a comic territorial imperative...