Take the Money and Run (1969)

Woody Allen's second directorial effort (which is his first real directorial effort) is a movie that's difficult to have much passion towards. It's a light, funny, breezy 85 minutes that bogs down occasionally and is a bit too fragmented. It's tough to feel strongly for, or against, the movie.

With Take the Money and Run Allen chose to tell the story of fictional criminal Virgil Starkwell (played by Allen). The film is a "life and times" type deal told in mockumentary format. The unabashedly comedic movie combines Allen's famous one-liners and slapstick with a slight peppering of crime/prison movie parody. Like What's Up, Tiger Lily? the plot only roughly exists and functions more as a canvas for comedy than anything else. The difference between the two movies is that Allen had to cast actors and shoot scenes this time. You know, actually make a movie.

The movie is notable for being the first of Allen's films that he writes, directs, and acts in (I guess he technically did all three for What's Up, Tiger Lily?, but he was a voice actor, and the "direction" consisted more of some clever editing than anything else). This trifecta would become a staple of the director's movies. Up until 2004's Melinda and Melinda, Allen would appear as an actor in all but seven of his films (he writes and directs all of his features). Since then he's only acted in one of his movies (2006's Scoop).

Take the Money and Run is probably most significant for introducing the Woody Allen persona. That persona being the nebbish, neurotic, meek character he made famous. The character became so synonymous with Allen that most people generally assume the man is similar in real life (by most accounts I've read, he isn't). The movie version of Woody Allen exists with slight variations from film to film - in Take the Money and Run he's an idiotic, inept criminal. Allen almost always plays some variation of the character in his movies, so his initial appearance is pretty significant when looking at his filmography.

As for the film itself, it is standard early Woody Allen. Early Woody wants the audience to laugh and that's about it. In this, and any, mockumentary the comedy stems from how straight the entire ordeal is played. There's a gravely serious narrator (Jackson Beck) that is prone to giving the viewers odd, silly, and often nonsensical facts about the movie's characters. Virgil's escape plan from prison involves a fake gun made from soap and shoe polish. His parents appear frequently, with both disguised as Groucho Marx. The entire 85 minutes is comprised of one ridiculous event after another. The key to comedy in the mockumentary is that the characters aren't in on the joke - only the audience is. Virgil thinks his soapy gun is an ingenious idea. The narrator doesn't think there's anything silly when he tells us, "Food on a chain gang is scarce and not very nourishing. The men get one hot meal a day: a bowl of steam."

The jokes in the film range from absolutely hilarious to cringe-worthy. Most work, but quite a few fall completely flat - most notably, the constant interjections from Virgil's parents. The parents appear 4 or 5 times throughout the film, and by the second or third time they become annoying. The routine becomes stale - a routine, mind you, that wasn't that funny in the first place. These parental disruptions were the only major problem I had with the movie. The interruptions give the movie a bit of a disjointed feel. There are certainly other jokes that miss, but nothing on this large of a scale. A joke here or there missing is water under the bridge. An entire concept failing is a significant fault.

So, what does work? Well, the opening sequence, for one. The opening details Virgil's childhood and how he goes from social outcast to petty criminal to prison inmate. It's a very funny few minutes. There's also Virgil's botched bank robbery, which can be blamed on him for misspelling either gun (as gub) or act (as apt) on his robbery note. The clerks at the bank can't understand the note, and eventually the entire bank is huddled around trying to decipher what it actually says. There's no time for Virgil to actually rob the bank before the cops arrive. After all, he simply must be sure the bank employees completely understand everything his note says. The best part about this joke is later in the movie when Virgil casually calls his gun a "gub". Finally, there's a hilarious montage as Virgil gets ready in his apartment for his date with Louise. Once Virgil gets out of the shower, the camera remains focused on his upper half as he dresses and prepares for the date. In typical montagian (definitely a word I just made up) fashion, the last beat of the music plays as the door closes on Virgil walking out, seemingly ready to go on his date. The camera remains focused on the door. A few seconds later Virgil reenters the apartment with a towel still wrapped around his lower half. For me, this was the funniest gag in the film.

Over the course of a week I watched the movie 3 times, and each time I found it funnier. I found myself laughing in anticipation of certain jokes. That's got to count for something, right? As far as a point, the closest I could come to anything of substance was in a scene with Allen's first real-life wife, Louise Lasser. She plays a girl, Kay Lewis, who knew Virgil as a youth and is interviewed towards the end of the film to give her thoughts on him. She goes to great lengths to stress how amazed she is that such an idiot and complete nothing could have the brain to be a career criminal. Maybe there's a bit of social commentary in there about how our society tends to glorify and prop up certain aspects of criminal life (think Bonnie and Clyde, Al Capone, etc.). In reality, there isn't anything noble or worthy in being a criminal - only an idiot, like Virgil, would choose such a life. On second thought, I'm probably giving the movie too much credit. I don't think Take the Money and Run is concerned with anything more than giving it's viewers a few laughs. It succeeds in that regard, but in the end, while more polished than What's Up, Tiger Lily?, this is still a fairly minor film.