The first obvious point of reference would be Stardust Memories, Woody Allen's career-derailing capper to a financially successful run that saw such hits as Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex and Annie Hall. Set in large part at a Felliniesque film festival, it was the first time Allen argued against autobiography, claiming the director in the film — an arrogant auteur who placed his audience beneath contempt — was based on schtick and in no way a reflection of his true feelings. Rifkin (Wallace Shawn) is accompanying his wife Sue (Gina Gershon) to the San Sebastian Film Festival, where she’s to represent her client, this year’s Best Director-winner — and potential cuckolder — Philippe (Louis Garrel). Rifkin attends not so much for the art, but to see if his suspicions about his “fraying marriage” are true. Storaro tells all by miraculously composing a dinner conversation between the three as if Rifkin wasn’t at the table. Former film professor Rifkin does his best work on his back sound asleep, dreaming in black-and-white and in the context of the European Masters (and Claude Lelouch), about whom he has based his class. Both director and cinematographer feast on affectionate recreations of the genius of Godard, Buñuel, Renoir, Truffaut (and Claude Lelouch). When it comes to Bergman, I’m not sure whether Woody is spoofing Persona or his own Interiors. It’s been a lot of movies ago since Allen’s level of wit has connected to produce this many laughs. (When choosing between testaments, he argues, “In the New Testament, at least the Messiah shows up.”) Rifkin’s numerous runs for the doctor’s office and the zipless romance that follows help to make this Allen’s finest and funniest since Midnight in Paris. (2020) — Scott Marks
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