Woody Allen's exquisite 1985 fantasy The Purple Rose Of Cairo really does have the potential to transport cinema audiences to heaven (or, at least, onto, or into, the cinema screen). In what I consider to be Allen's tribute to the great Hollywood filmmakers of yesteryear, such as Frank Capra, Preston Sturges and Ernst Lubitsch, The Purple Rose Of Cairo is a magical study of cinema's power to obsess its audiences, even if there is an inevitable jolt back to earth waiting for us in the end. In fact, the film was inspired by the Buster Keaton film Sherlock Jnr. and the 1941 comedy Hellzapoppin'. The film won the BAFTA for Best Film and was nominated for the Best Screenplay Oscar (losing to Witness).
From the opening theme of Irving Berlin's Cheek To Cheek, we know we're in for a fantastic cinematic voyage over the next 80 minutes. Set in New Jersey during the Great Depression, Mia Farrow (in another wonderful performance for Allen) stars as dippy, forgetful and cinema-obsessed waitress Cecilia, whose entire life is centred around the latest Hollywood comedies, romances and adventure stories, showing at her local cinema. Even the antics of two-timing waster and gambler, husband Monk (Danny Aiello, in probably his second best screen performance ever, behind his Sal in Do The Right Thing) cannot distract Cecilia from her movie addiction. Cecilia's obsession reaches new heights when Egyptian adventure yarn The Purple Rose of Cairo comes to town, and film character Tom Baxter (Jeff Daniels in, along with that in Something Wild, one of his best performances) literally comes down off the screen to whisk Cecilia away. The situation is further complicated when the film's producers get wind of the situation, sending Baxter's alter ego, actor Gil Shepherd (unsurprisingly also played by Daniels) to the cinema in an attempt to persuade Baxter to get back on screen.
Allen has devised a marvellous and poignant homage to cinema in Purple Rose, focusing for extended sequences on the interaction between film cast and audience, as they bitch away at one another, eventually leading to the cinema manager's threat to turn off the projector - 'No, don't', replies one of the cast, 'It gets black and we disappear'. There is a series of hilarious scenes as film character Baxter discovers the imaginary nature of his 'screen world' - including discovering that his 'screen money' is fake and that cars do not simply move on sitting in the driver's seat, but require a key to start. Another marvellous scene occurs where Baxter takes Cecilia onto the screen and into the film, convincing nightclub maitre d' Arturo (Eugene Anthony) that the rule book has been completely torn up, as he breaks into a virtuoso tap dance routine. Also worthy of mention is a great cameo performance by Dianne Wiest as prostitute Emma, as she whisks Baxter off to her brothel (this was the first of a series of great Wiest performances in Allen films).
In The Purple Rose of Cairo, Allen reinforces his credentials as a writer and director who is as masterful at romantic whimsy as he is at out-and-out comedy. The illusion created in Cecilia's mind is brilliantly conveyed in a romantic scene between Cecilia and Gil, as, following a passionate embrace, Cecilia laments 'I'm confused. I'm married. I just met a wonderful new man, he's fictional, but you can't have everything.'
For me, the precise reason for the appeal of the Purple Rose of Cairo is difficult to pinpoint. It is, essentially, a magical, romantic cinematic trip with an appeal similar to Powell and Pressburger's I Know Where I'm Going. Whatever the reason, the film's appeal is totally infectious and I rate it, along with Manhattan, Crimes and Misdemeanours and Broadway Danny Rose, among Allen's finest films.