He laughs

I watched “Manhattan” for the first time in long time the other day. It’s on Netflix, which helps. There are some other Woody Allen movies on there now too in case you, like me, want to feel all intellectual without really working at it. That “Manhattan” is in black and white does not hurt the sensation that I am engaged in a high culture activity. There are some beautiful shots of Manhattan, and a few of Brooklyn too. (Although it’s Brooklyn near the promenade, so Manhattan is still the backdrop.) This is the movie that taught me what Gershwin means. I had a recording of “Rhapsody in Blue” before I saw this movie, but I did not listen to it. I don’t actually listen to it now either, but I think if I did that I would understand it more than I did when I didn’t listen to it before. The scene on the bench overlooking the East River was shot in my father’s old neighborhood. We sat on that bench and ate Chinese food one evening in the summer of 1993. It was good Chinese food. It was a good night. “Manhattan” leaves me with the impression that living in New York is a series of good nights and good days spent in conversation with good friends. Maybe that is not just New York. Maybe it is, or can be, life. Not that I think that modeling one’s life on a movie is necessarily a good choice, but as Woody Allen’s character says, I have to model myself after someone. As ridiculous as it is to think that I would try to emulate a character in a movie or a TV show (like St. Elsewhere) it’s just as ridiculous to think that I would have no role models at all. Maybe the shear lunacy of the conversation is what gives Allen’s character the name Issac.