Shadows And Fog [DVD] [1993]

Trying not to reveal to much of the plot, I will say that it involves a strangler on the loose, and the complications Kleinman (Woody Allen) get's into when he is included in a group of vigilantes who's looking for the murderer, and about a circus performer (an incredibly cute Mia Farrow) and her problems when she runs away from the circus, and try to find her way in the city.

As I said unless you really has nothing but loathing for Woody Allen, you're actually doing yourself a real favor if you see this. It really is brilliant.

And for those out there who hate Allen and his films. What the heck is wrong with you?

The film draws heavily on the dual influences of Kafka's novel the Trial and the Fritz Lang film M, as Allen - here cast as the neurotic existentialist Max Kleinmann - finds himself embroiled in the search for a vicious serial killer stalking the nocturnal streets of an unnamed amalgamation of archaic Eastern-European cities. Ultimately, the nervy and intellectual Kleinmann becomes the number one suspect in the case, hounded by both police and lynch mobs alike, and forced to escape into the dangerous night with a beautiful sword-swallower named Irmy, who has left the circus to get away from her adulterous and patronising boyfriend. The two characters form the dual arc of the story, with their paths crossing throughout... whilst simultaneously, acting as links back and forth between the various subplots and supporting characters.

Allen's ultimate failing with the film is that he casts his net a little too wide, introducing characters for no real reason and then forgetting about them before we even get to know them. It also doesn't help matters much that he decides to fill every single role, no matter how short or insubstantial, with an A-list actor. The stars really get in the way of the central drama between Kleinmann and Irmy, and the interesting atmosphere and tension created by the mysteriously plot. I suppose, essentially, the film should be seen as an art-house mystery, drawing certain parallels with Steven Soderbergh's greatly underrated film Kafka from the year before, in the sense that both films use a loosely expressionistic style (actually closer to post-war noir... but who's really nit-picking with a film this visually stunning?) and the idea of a hapless central character being plunged head-long into a plot that he has no control over. However, having said that, it's also a Woody Allen film, so we have the neurotic central character, the unrequited love and the comic vignettes to act as a sort of padding.

It seems that Allen really wanted the best of both worlds here, attempting to create a serious expressionist piece, with a dark plot involving murder, corruption, prostitution and the idea of suspicion, but feeling the need to compromise, with the inclusion of witty one-liners, a vague ending and a galaxy of stars, to, I suppose, justify the lavish $20 million budget. In this respect, Shadows and Fog is a flawed film... one that seems unsure of what it wants to be or where it wants to go. However, if we scratch a little beneath the surface we find that the film, like many of the director's other projects, works on a deeper level than the central narrative. I've read reviews and analysis elsewhere on the Internet that talk much more eloquently than I ever could about Allen's use of subtext, particularly in the idea of mob-mentality, especially when it comes to the Jewish characters here. Is Allen making some kind of comment on the action leading up to and beyond Hitler's reign of tyranny during the Second World War? It's possible, particularly if we think about the scene in which Kleinmann is immediately greeted with suspicion by the priest and the chief of police as he attempts to hand over a $700 donation to the local church. There's also the scene in which Kleinmann watches in horror as the Jewish family - a family he knows to be honest and good - are violently thrown out of their house and arrested by the heavy-handed lynch mob, which recalls (or, in fact, predates) certain scenes from Schindler's List.

There's also the notion of madness, most pronounced during the conversation between Kleinmann and the eccentric physician... a scene that really pushes the ambient, highly expressionistic style to breaking point, with it's rigid black and white composition, use of shadows and framed distortions and constant soundtrack hum of distant industrial noise bringing to mind films like The Elephant Man by David Lynch or Lars von Trier's The Element of Crime. Or is the whole film a dream... with that first murder happening at the start of the film before Kleinmann is suddenly awoken from a deep-sleep by his angry neighbours (certainly this would suggest the dreamlike shifts in tone - from moments of light comedy to the deeper ruminations on god and death - and that strange and elusive climax). Naturally, taking all of these factors (which, at the end of the day, are just my personal interpretations) into consideration, one would be best advised to give the film a few viewings before passing judgement on it. I'm not going to try and talk it up like it's one of Allen's greatest masterpieces because at the end of the day it's really not... the script could have perhaps done with a little work and I really could have done without all the A-list cameos (I think the film would have worked better with unknowns, like Zelig).

However, I think it's a good film regardless of these flaws; one that employs an evocative and highly atmospheric visual style, has some nicely observed moments and delicate switches between humour and something much more sinister, and has a story that rewards repeated viewings and gives way to a plethora of different interpretations. It's certainly not the best place to start for those new to Allen's cinema - though I prefer it to the universally acclaimed Hannah and Her Sisters - though it's sure to delight long term devotees, or anyone with a passing interest in German expressionism, Kafka, or surreal European cinema.