Irrational Man
Joaquin Phoenix and Emma Stone shine in Woody Allen's latest existential crisis.
Overview
Another year, another Woody Allen film — because that’s how frequently the writer/director makes and releases movies. Of course, with being prolific comes adhering to a template, particularly concerning his fondness for romantic and moral quandaries.
In Irrational Man, womanising college philosophy professor Abe Lucas (Joaquin Phoenix) and precocious student Jill Pollard (Emma Stone) are the intertwined parties, swiftly warming to each other outside of class and soon overstepping the normal bounds of a teacher-pupil relationship. He's also seeing another faculty member (Parker Posey), and she has a boyfriend (Jamie Blackley), yet their intellectual bond can't help veering towards the physical.
Anyone familiar with Allen's work will be prepared for the walking, talking and bantering to come, although in this case, the filmmaker prefers duelling narration — voiced by both lead characters, and conveying their innermost thoughts about each other — over dialogue. Anyone familiar with Allen's work will also be prepared for the necessary complications, here manifesting in the fate of a corrupt judge the would-be couple overhear a stranger complaining about.
Indeed, once more continuing down the auteur's typical path, an existential crisis sits at the centre of the film. Just like in Blue Jasmine, Midnight in Paris and Whatever Works before it, Irrational Man endeavours to reconcile midlife malaise through amorous entanglements and ethical dilemmas; however, where those features more overtly played with drama, time travel and comedy respectively, this favours mystery. What does it take to reignite someone's zest for the life is the movie's ultimate question. Of course, even playing it straighter and more serious than usual, the answer comes in typical offbeat Allen fashion.
It also comes with the filmmaker's repeated penchant for a hefty age difference, though both Phoenix and Stone rank among the film's highlights. Both convey their characters' transitions by playing to their strengths, and add plausibility to a script that doesn't demonstrate it otherwise. Sure, we've seen him both depressed and vibrant before, and her everything from sensible to swept away to cynical too, but familiarity with their performances doesn't breed contempt. That they share a natural rapport that makes the audience happy to spend time in their company also helps.
Elsewhere, all the other Allen hallmarks are evident in what proves an enjoyable but expected affair: a jazzy score that adds a light tone to the weighty musings, warm colours that revel in the film's surroundings, and ample shots of the two stars basking in each other's presence. In fact, if Irrational Man feels like a compilation of the writer/director's usual beats, preferences and stories, that's because it is, as even casual viewers of his fare should recognise. Perhaps that's just what comes with crafting 50 films in 50 years. At this stage of his career, Allen is simply making what he wants — and what he wants is to delve into the same territory over and over again.
