Gloriously entertaining comedy thriller from Woody Allen which conjures up those crazy screwball murder mysteries of the '30s when a glamorous pair of socialites would get involved in a wild adventure among the nightclubs and cocktail lounges of the big city. And drive the police chief nuts.
When Woody and Marshall Brickman wrote Annie Hall, they devised an unused subplot in which Allen and Diane Keaton gatecrash a whodunit. When the director went back to the idea, he cast Keaton as his wife many years on, and they investigate a murder in their apartment building.
Being Woody Allen, we don't get martinis and glamour; there are a love triangle and middle age/class anxiety. And it's sensational. The mystery is exciting and the jokes genuinely funny. It's so gratifying to have Woody and Diane back together and bickering again. I missed them. Alan Alda and Angelica Huston somehow enhance the leads' legendary rapport.
There are many references to classic Hollywood thrillers, like Vertigo and Rear Window. The film achieves film buff nirvana when the denouement plays out over Lady from Shanghai shown in a fleapit cinema. There are no reflections on the human condition, but there is wit, chemistry and ecstatic feel-good comedy.