Café Society
2016 Cannes Film Festival Review

Proving once again that breaking new thematic ground is overrated, writer-director Woody Allen continues to dig into the issues that have consumed him for much of his career. Anyone looking to Café Society for fresh insights into love’s challenges or the eternal battle between substance and superficiality will leave the theater wanting, but for those who have remained loyal to Allen’s particular set of obsessions, this mildly ambitious, very familiar, ultimately rewarding comedy-drama does get to a tender, thoughtful place. But it also will confirm any naysayer’s belief that this 80-year-old filmmaker’s hit-to-miss ratio is getting iffier in recent years.
Set in the 1930s, Café Society stars Jesse Eisenberg as Bobby, a plucky young New Yorker who moves out to Los Angeles to get a job working for his incredibly powerful talent agent uncle Phil (Steve Carell). Bobby doesn’t have any clear-cut aspirations beyond living among the fabulous in Hollywood, but soon his attention turns to Vonnie (Kristen Stewart), a pretty secretary in Phil’s office. A down-to-earth woman in a land of name-droppers and schmoozers, Vonnie appeals to Bobby’s sense of normalcy, and he quickly falls head over heels in love with her—the only complication being that she has a boyfriend, a journalist named Doug who often travels for his work.
If you’ve seen five Woody Allen movies, you can perhaps surmise a romantic twist is coming—and here it is: Vonnie’s lover is actually Phil, who’s been cheating on his wife with her for the last year. Wanting to marry Vonnie but fearful of destroying the 25-year marriage he has, Phil keeps their affair secret, with Bobby utterly unaware.
This love triangle forms the core of Café Society, but it doesn’t entirely encompass everything on Allen’s mind, leading to a film that tries to be more of an ensemble piece, making room for Bobby’s extended family back in New York. At first, it’s not apparent what, for example, Bobby’s gangster brother (Corey Stoll) has to do with the overarching storyline, but eventually those cutaways will take on a greater importance during the film’s final stretches.
Working with cinematographer Vittorio Storaro and longtime production designer Santo Loquasto, Allen intentionally paints the Hollywood settings with a posh, exaggerated elegance. It’s a world of fake glamour, and the sun-splashed lighting is both inviting and clearly artificial. It will be no surprise, of course, that the filmmaker looks askance at L.A.—he’s been making snide jokes about the town since the early 1970s—but this may be the first time he’s actually tried to understand the appeal of its gorgeous weather and its promise of a new life that can only be dreamed about by those stuck in the frigid East Coast.