JUST FYI POD
SEASON 1, EPISODE 12: “Our 20 Most Spiritually Significant Films of All Time: #11”
The main task of Just FYI Pod’s first season is to explore the “20 Most Spiritually Significant Films of All Time.” On this episode, my cohost Amy Welborn and I discuss the #11 film on our respective lists—Woody Allen’s 1989 “dramedy” Crimes and Misdemeanors. Arguably the apex of Allen’s cinematic career, Crimes and Misdemeanors probes a number of perennial philosophical and theological questions, from the tension between religion and nihilism to the comic absurdity of human attempts to secure happiness. That Allen’s diverse filmography and controversial personal life seemingly overlap with the film’s thematics only adds to its overarching importance. As ever, links are provided below. Please like, share, rate, and comment!
I've told Amy this on her blog, but I am thoroughly enjoying this podcast and my list of "movies to watch" (or, rewatch as the case may be) continues to grow. I am even considering movies I initially would have rejected out of hand. I particularly appreciate the deeper exposition of themes and moral implications. Thanks to you both for enduring sirens, traffic, less than ideal weather and general crowd noise in producing these episodes.
Regarding Woody Allen, even though I find his personal life unpalatable, there is something goofily charming about many of the characters he plays in his movies. He is not remotely physically attractive in the conventional sense, so it's not that. But there is something endearing about the self-loathing his characters often display - a certain vulnerability - which I think is what makes him attractive to some of the women in the stories. I'm not saying I find it attractive, but it clearly resonates with some women.
Listening to this on the way to a personal retreat, what I kept coming back to in my thinking was the parallel with the detail from Kierkegaard's story about his father (Peter?), and how his deep secret was that he had a miserable childhood, wet, cold, out long hours watching flocks in the wind and rain -- and one day the father, as a boy, went up on a hill and cursed God. Then the next day (maybe on his way in that evening?) a series of events rapidly happened which took him from impoverished rural labor to wealth and status and comfort. And I've always wondered if that isn't the beating heart behind Soren's life work . . . but it certainly tracks alongside the questions of this film, and its ambiguous ending.