The Purple Rose of Cairo

If you find the prospect of Woody Allen playing another self-conscious, neurotic, weed as much of a turn-off as I do, Purple Rose of Cairo may just be your kind of Woody Allen film. He isn't in it. I can't help thinking that Woody is better off behind the camera where he doesn't have to deal with the presentation of his own image on the screen. His persistent self-deprecation (which is ultimately supposed to enlist our sympathy and admiration) really does get pretty nauseating after a while.

Anyway, back to the movie. In an American cinema during the depression-hit 30s, an avid cinema-goer (Mia Farrow) so enamours her idol (Jeff Daniels), who spies her from the cinema screen, that he leaves his two-dimensional world and steps down into hers.

Allen's script provides a brilliant, touching, examination of the lovers' bizarre relationship, full of wit and intelligence and pretty much devoid of schmaltz.

Farrow and Daniels (isn't he a particularly underrated actor?) are excellent as the two leads and cope admirably with all the emotional challenges Allen's script throws at them.

Review by Iain Harral
Taken from EUFS Programme 1995-96