Innenleben: Directed by Woody Allen. With Kristin Griffith, Mary Beth Hurt, Richard Jordan, Diane Keaton. Three sisters find their lives spinning out of control in the wake of their parents’ sudden, unexpected divorce.
“The three adult daughters of a quiet attorney and an imperious matriarch are alternately offended and benumbed by their parentsu0026#39; divorce and their fatheru0026#39;s u0026quot;hastyu0026quot; decision to remarry (leaving mama to fend for herself, probably something she needs but does not enjoy–thereu0026#39;s no one to boss around). Bergmanesque drama from writer-director Woody Allen, who does not appear or even feel present (Pauline Kael of the New Yorker claims his neuroses have been transposed to the mother-character, but I never felt like I was watching something created by Woody Allen). All the actors are quite fine playing characters who are high-strung, uptight, woebegone (yet oddly, never intentionally comical), yet the flatness of the dialogue and the listlessness of Mary Beth Hurtu0026#39;s frequent narration may strain some viewersu0026#39; patience. Some of the wordy sequences tend to ramble, and what words! Allen has a fixation with non-textbook terms for multiple abnormal psychoses; and no matter how educated Hurtu0026#39;s character is supposed to be, I had trouble swallowing some of the high-brow talk in her third-act put-down of Geraldine Page. The movie–seriously well-scrubbed, sterile and somber–has many conflicts and personality quirks which feel real and intricate, and Pageu0026#39;s high society dementia is riveting (alternately, Maureen Stapletonu0026#39;s gaudy low-class is also superb). The three sisters remain enigmas that confound and confuse (each other and the viewer) but Diane Keatonu0026#39;s gritty reserve as the eldest daughter is the one I gravitated towards. Not a masterpiece (as some critics claimed), but certainly not a dud. Itu0026#39;s Woodyu0026#39;s art-house gambol, a dark one, and it leaves behind a fascinating imprint. *** from ****”