Helena, whose husband Alfie left her for a call girl, falls under the influence of a fortune teller who claims to read the future. Meanwhile, Helena’s daughter, Sally, is in love with her boss, Greg, the owner of an art gallery, while Roy, a novelist who has just submitted his latest manuscript, becomes infatuated with Dia, a mysterious woman seen in a neighboring window. Despite their efforts to avoid facing reality, all these characters are going to get burned playing the game of illusion.
A fantasy stimulated them, but it only lasted for a while, and disillusionment put them back on the straight (dull or mundane) path of their lives.
Disrupted or fueled by the incessant predictions of a bogus fortune teller, we discover the misadventures of Roy, a man in his sixties who wants to enjoy a second youth with a woman who is less than half his age.
Sally, who is secretly attracted to her boss, who looks the other way, or the writer husband with a dry spell of inspiration willing to do anything to seduce his stunning neighbor and take credit for a friend’s manuscript while he’s in a coma… Welcome to the (dis)enchanted world of Woody Allen, who presents his third and final film in his London trilogy (the next one will be set in Paris… with or without Carla Bruni).
It is said that having seen a film by the famous New York actor and director means you have seen them all! And ultimately, it’s somewhat true because by changing stories and scenarios, Woody always returns to his world. It’s a good place to live without having too many expectations and pretensions.
In this film, Woody once again offers a wealth of delightful and relevant scenes with comedic precision to explore our feeble attempts to make sense of life.
