September (1987)

Alice entered my cerebral cortex and squeezed it hard, September fastened its fist around him too, making it burst. In short, I’ve suffered a Woody Allen sub-mediocre film burn out. All I have left in my run of Allen films are a few remaining 90’sish films. Uncontroversially, his worse era. Nothing to write home about in this movie, another film with stage-play techniques, over acting, and dry characters.

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