I have never enjoyed reading movie reviews, and for this reason I seldom do so. I’ve always felt somewhat disturbed by the critics’ ability to decide for everyone else what’s worth watching, and what should be avoided at all costs. Can other people really decide what I’m going to enjoy watching, and what I might find boring, offensive, or even stupid? Definitely not! When it comes to Woody Allen, the movie critics in America, have never been overly kind from the little that I’ve read, and for this reason I have not read the reviews for his latest film for that matter. But nevertheless, I went on a limb as I usually do, I saw the film— and fell in love. This, by no means is a review of Woody’s film; I think that if the title of a movie intrigues you enough, then you should definitely judge it for yourself.
I’ve chosen to mention his film not only because I was truly entertained and mesmerized by the story, as well as the setting, but I got the chance to see characters whom I adore from the literary world come to life in the most bizarre of circumstances. What’s not to like about the 1920s? In America it was a decade that embodied so much elegance and creativity, despite prohibition and mob violence, and the rest of the negative, boring stuff