Match Point

I would call Match Point a return to form for director Woody Allen, but I've never seen him undertake a movie of this form ever before. So it can't logically be considered a return. Sure, the basic themes of the film have held over from a lot of his previous work - class conflicts in contemporary cities, the clash of romantic commitment and lustful passion, mounting guilt and paranoia - but this is Allen working in a different key than even his most serious films of the past.

When 2004's mediocre combination of frothy comedy and tragic melodrama, Melinda and Melinda, was released, Allen said in interviews that he had tired of comedy, and felt that only through drama could the deep realities of modern life be explored. At the time, I thought this was insane. Perhaps no American filmmaker has expressed more nuanced and perceptive ideas through film comedy than Woody Allen.

But it's impossible not to consider the transition of Match Point a major, albeit late, turning point in the director's career. Removing himself from New York and cutting free of all the trappings and details that make his films recognizable as "Woody Allen movies," from Dixieland jazz to neurotic, wise-cracking protagonists, has liberated the man. And he has used this newfound freedom and enthusiasm to write and direct the year's smartest and best thriller, a powerfully cold immorality play that's as twisted as it is nimble.



Match Point is the first film Allen has directed entirely in London, and the European setting is entirely appropriate for this sophisticated tale of love, betrayal and, above all, coincidental twists of fate. In 1999, the overrated Mr. Anthony Minghella botched a big-screen adaptation of Patricia Highsmith's wonderfully bleak novel "The Talented Mr. Ripley." Match Point feels like the film Minghella should have made, a rake's progress about a sociopathic social climber swiftly brushing aside all that blocks him from a life of comfort and privilege.

Over his roughly 10 years in film acting, I have seen Jonathan Rhys-Meyers in several films, and he has never previously made much of an impression. (In fact, going into the film tonight, the only movie on his resume I could distinctly recall was Julie Taymor's Titus, though now looking at IMDB, I realize I had seen him in Velvet Goldmine, Bend it like Beckham and I'll Sleep When I'm Dead as well). Anyway, this is the role of a lifetime, and Rhys-Meyers exceeds all expectation as the shifty, distant yet oddly sympathetic Chris Wilton.

A former tennis pro who lacks the talent and dedication to make it on the circuit, Wilton has taken a job in London as an instructor at a posh private club. There, he meets the friendly young heir Tom Hewett (Matthew Goode). The two share an interest in opera (the music that fills the soundtrack in dramatic fashion) and become fast friends. Tom introduces Chris to his single sister, Chloe (Emily Mortimer), clearly in the hopes of making a love connection, and sure enough the two kids hit it off.

Like Tom Ripley in the Highsmith novel, Chris finds himself in a world of wealth the likes of which he, as a poor kid from Ireland, never dreamed. The Hewett's, including father Alec (a charming Brian Cox) and mother Eleanor (Penelope Wilton) are kindly people, and not set up as boastful or ostentatious, but nor are they shy about their sizable fortune. Allen expertly and subtley explores these distinctions of class, how Chris is slowly worn down by the money being tossed off around him, pulled in to a lifestyle beyond his means that he can only access by playing the role of the dutiful boyfriend (and later, husband).

The introduction of Nola (Scarlett Johansson), Tom's gorgeous and intriguing fiancee, complicates the situation considerably. Chris is drawn to her immediately. Their first meeting, flirting over a game of ping-pong, features wonderfully honeyed cinematography by Remi Adefarasin and some of the most erotically charged dialogue of Allen's writing career.

Johansson has been good in films before, but no filmmaker has ever brought out the full range of her sexuality nor her unpredictable aggression better than Allen in this film. Every shot of Johansson in the film is stunning - no surprise considering Allen's lifelong taste for sexy, precocious young women - and she maneuvers the transition from playful object of lust to frightened naif on the verge of a breakdown expertly. "Best Supporting Actress"? I'm struggling to think of a more qualified candidate...

Once Chris and Chloe are married, and Tom dumps Nola for someone who meets his mother's approval, the affair gets more daring. Of course, further complications arise that will test Chris' willingness to compromise his morals in order to maintain his creature comforts. It all builds to a final half-hour that's somewhat expected - the film's a romantic thriller that rarely deviates from the genre's tried-and-true formula - yet remains massively exciting and suspenseful.

In some of the later passages, as Chris plays cat-and-mouse with the police and attempts to hold together the family whose wealth he requires, I was reminded of the thrillers of Hitchcock and Chabrol - how little details are set-up subtlely yet pay-off tremendously in the Third Act. (One scene in particular, in which a pocketed shotgun shell threatens to give the game away, represents an impeccably fluid example of film suspense).

Match Point represents Allen's best work in well over a decade. As I said, it's not a "return to form," as he's never tried for a sharp-edged romantic thriller like this one before, but it's definitely his most promising new film since the late 80's-early 90's run that gave us Crimes and Misdemeanors and Husbands and Wives.

Allen's script is near-perfect, not only in terms of structure, but artistry and finesse. He invites us dangerously close to the inside of Chris' perspective. Though he commits evil acts, and is clearly disgusted by his own behavior at times, what's more chilling is his ability to mask his emotions in front of others. Though Chloe will point out that he appears somewhat nervous or shaken at times when he's concealing a great deal from her, overall he's basically a dishonesty savant.

In an opening voice-over, Chris discusses the nature of luck - how, as in a tennis game, life often depends entirely on which side of the net the ball chooses to fall. This represents, in essence, his moral perspective - the game is rigged against you, nothing much can be controlled or counted upon, so when the opportunity comes for you to effect your life's outcome in any way, you have no choice but to seize it immediately.

Like Crimes and Misdemeanors, the film ends as a consideration of the nature of guilt in an amoral universe. (Chris is even shown at one point reading Dostoyevsky). In both films, Allen's characters make a choice to approach their actions pragmatically, without concern for the moral questions involved. If their lives are going to work out in a way that will make them happy, certain unpleasantness must be undertaken.

For Chris, this means choosing foul misdeeds over making personal sacrifices, or rather, forcing others to sacrifice their lives so that his may continue in proper fashion. Allen dares to ask the question...If Chris has the freedom to make that decision, what's stopping the rest of us from doing the same?