September (1987)

[StevePulaski]

September (1987)
Directed by: Woody Allen

Mia Farrow in September.

Rating: ★★★
NOTE: Part of "Woody Allen Mondays," an ongoing movie-watching event.

If you're searching for a "Golden Age" of Woody Allen, so to speak, I can concretely say the time-period you'll find most alluring and whimsical is his body of work that runs from 1977 to 1989. Some Allen fans might be quick to talk about the experimental, passionate projects of the early 1970s, like Sleeper and Love and Death, but if you're searching for a period more succinct rather than specialized, adhere to the aforementioned dates beginning with Allen's beloved Annie Hall and concluding with the intellectual Crimes and Misdemeanors.

This period brings a plethora of straight-forward masterpieces, including the aforementioned two, the fan-favorite Manhattan, the experimental Zelig, the masterful Purple Rose of Cairo, the nostalgic Radio Days, and draws to a close with a home-stretch that includes September, one of his most brazenly dramatic works. Far removed from the film are the quips and punchlines that ordinarily populate every scene or conclude every conversation, save for an Errol Flynn joke here, or an off-handed jab there. I feel that if Allen devotees become too wrapped up in this film, it could severely affect their mental states for days on-end, given how unexpectedly drab of a film this is.

September is a somber look at a plethora of emotional problems from six characters that move aimlessly through a small Vermont home, which serves as one character's childhood residency. Most of the characters are in love yet closely intertwined with someone they did not expect, leading to great hostility and animosity over the course of 80 minutes.

It all starts when Diane (Elaine Stritch) comes home to visit her family in the humble Vermont abode where she grew up, intent on taking a break from the hectic life of showbusiness. She's been married quite a few times, currently to Lloyd (Jack Warden), who still swoons over her despite her glory days quite possibly existing in the rear-view, and, back home, she's in the company of Lane (Mia Farrow), a woman on the mend amidst a long stint at home and a failed suicide attempt, Howard (Denholm Elliott), Lane's neighbor with whom she's cordial despite harboring feelings for Peter (Sam Waterston). Peter is a writer residing in Vermont only for a few more days until the end of August gives way to the autumn season. Also at the house is Stephanie (Dianne Wiest), Lane's closest friend whom spends most of her time getting close to Peter just in time for Lane's mother to arrive with a stunning proposal that unleashes skeletons from every closet.

A good chunk of September is a cast in a deeply melodramatic light, while the entire film remains under the roof of this unassuming east coast home. Allen's direction loans itself to a play-like atmosphere, where tensions are heightened by increased claustrophobia in key scenes and the escalating tempers appear that much more inescapable. The aforementioned melodrama almost entirely exists in one long stretch that's as dark and as moody as anything I've seen by Allen in over twenty films. It's an unthinkably brooding time in the film where characters' are swallowed by a despondent ambiance that cats such an unfortunate (and literal) shadow on all their problems it renders them effectively helpless.

Farrow, once again, proves her strengths as an actress, assisted by Stritch and Wiest, sure, yet heavily booned by the strengths of her own convictions. Farrow has an ability to disguise herself well, hiding behind the cloaks of her character so well her abilities could occasionally be classified as method acting. She makes up for some of the lacking male characters in the film, particularly a babbling Waterston, who I'd argue takes away from the uncommon melodramatic stretch by so prolifically being at the center of attention. Whenever Allen's script shows Lane in her disheveled state, the film thrives, which explains why the third act and ending are both strong. Whenever the focus shifts, things become too unengaging.

September never has that moment where it hooks you in and allows you to embrace as the characters as genuine humans; at least for me. A film like this needs that moment where the characters transcend a symphony of brooding and troubled people to morph into those with evident humanity, and Allen remains a hair shy in realizing this material to the fullest degree. At its worst, it's an average stage-play, but at its best, it's an above-average, assured work of pure Woody Allen drama with a cast of characters that make their own ensemble out of tragedy and bleak outlooks.

Starring: Mia Farrow, Elaine Stritch, Sam Waterston, Dianne Wiest, Denholm Elliot, and Jack Warden. Directed by: Woody Allen.