whatever works (2009)

Woody Allen'ın eski tarzını özleyenlere müjde! İçinden zeka fışkıran, çok eğlenceli bir film olmuş. Eskiye göre tek fark baş rolde kendisinin olmaması. Larry David'in canlandırdığı Boris, 200 IQ'ya sahip bir nükleer fizikçi. Hayata ve insana dair ne varsa hepsinin mekanizmasını çoktan çözmüş, sarkastik bir tavırla her şeyi reddeden, aksi, aşırı açık sözlü, toplumu, düzeni alay edercesine dışlamış, nobel ödülünü ucundan kaçırmış, hayatını kazanmak için küçük çocuklara, azarlayarak sartranç öğreten bir adam. Bir gün saf, güneyli bir kızla tanışıyor. Sanki kız yani Melody, Boris'in evrendeki zıttı gibi. Neşeli, pozitif, cahil, tam bir güneyli... 

Ve olaylar gelişir. Daha en başta Boris'in kameraya bakarak, dördüncü duvarı yıkma tekniğini kullanarak izleyici ile konuştuğu sahne zaten sizi hikayenin içine çekiyor.

Dayanamadım tüm monoloğu aşağıya ekledim. Okuyun izlemeseniz de...

Boris:
"What the hell does it all mean anyhow? Nothing. Zero. Zilch. Nothing comes to anything. And yet, there's no shortage of idiots to babble. Not me. I have a vision. I'm discussing you. Your friends. Your coworkers. Your newspapers. The TV. Everybody's happy to talk. Full of misinformation. Morality, science, religion, politics, sports, love, your portfolio, your children, health. Christ, if I have to eat nine servings of fruits and vegetables a day to live, I don't wanna live. I hate goddamn fruits and vegetables. And your omega 3's, and the treadmill, and the cardiogram, and the mammogram, and the pelvic sonogram, and oh my god the-the-the colonoscopy, and with it all the day still comes where they put you in a box, and its on to the next generation of idiots, who'll also tell you all about life and define for you what's appropriate. My father committed suicide because the morning newspapers depressed him. And could you blame him? With the horror, and corruption, and ignorance, and poverty, and genocide, and AIDS, and global warming, and terrorism, and-and the family value morons, and the gun morons. "The horror," Kurtz said at the end of Heart of Darkness, "the horror." Lucky Kurtz didn't have the Times delivered in the jungle. Ugh... then he'd see some horror. But what do you do? You read about some massacre in Darfur or some school bus gets blown up, and you go "Oh my God, the horror," and then you turn the page and finish your eggs from the free range chickens. Because what can you do. It's overwhelming! I tried to commit suicide myself. Obviously, it didn't work out. But why do you even want to hear about all this? Christ, you got your own problems. I'm sure your all obsessed with any number of sad little hopes and dreams. Your predictably unsatisfying love lives, your failed business ventures. "Oh, if only I'd bought that stock! If only I-if only I purchased THAT house years ago! If only I'd made a move on THAT woman." If this, if that. You know what? Gimmie a break with your could have's and should have's. Like my mother used to say, "If my grandmother had wheels, she'd be a trolley car." My mother didn't have wheels. She had varicose veins. Still, the woman gave birth to a brilliant mind. I was considered for a Nobel Prize in physics... I didn't get it. But, you know, its all politics. It's like every other phony honor. Incidentally, don't think I'm-I'm bitter because of some personal setback. By the standards of a mindless, barbaric civilization, I've been pretty lucky. I was married to a beautiful woman who had family money. For years we lived on Beekman Place. I taught at Columbia. String theory.

I happen to hate New Year's celebrations. Everybody desperate to have fun. Trying to celebrate in some pathetic little way. Celebrate what? A step closer to the grave? That's why I can't say enough times, whatever love you can get and give, whatever happiness you can filch or provide, every temporary measure of grace, whatever works. And don't kid yourself. Because its by no means up to your own human ingenuity. A bigger part of your existence is luck, than you'd like to admit. Christ, you know the odds of your fathers one sperm from the billions, finding the single egg that made you. Don't think about it, you'll have a panic attack."