“In Beverly Hills … they don’t throw their garbage away. They make it into television shows.”
This is a classic ‘Woodyism,’ embodying the perpetual commodification of art and commercial artists in Woody Allen’s films.
What is a Woodyism, you may ask? It’s that witty one-liner delivered by the neurotic, intellectual director that, beneath its comic relief, provides critical insight into underlying existential, political, and artistic themes. These one–liners which characterize the work of Woody Allen are a reflection of why his films are, with a few exceptions, consistently lower grossing in North America than Europe. Manhattan and Monopoly will explore the commodification of art through Woody’s films.
Despite his controversial personal life, the man has an incredible talent for diversity: Interiors and Hannah and Her Sisters leave audiences paralyzed by the realistic depiction of the crumbling lives of a dysfunctional family; Annie Hall and Midnight in Paris are lauded as nervous, sentimental romances; and Sleeper, Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex*But Were Too Afraid to Ask, and What’s Up, Tiger Lily? stand out as seemingly odd and erotic compared to the rest.
Sex and comedy sound like a combination that would go over well in Hollywood, so why are these films traditionally less popular in North America than Europe? North American industries of art and culture epitomize one recurring Woody Allen theme: the reduction of various art forms to mere commodities that can be bought, sold, and monopolized. North Americans have become so naturalized to feel–good dramas and nationalist action films that character–based dialogue, driven by witty commentary, critical questions, and moral crises, do not resonate with a vast North American audience.
But commodification of the film industry stretches far beyond a few missed Woodyisms. Another thing we learn from Woody Allen films is that art comes in many forms, all of which are becoming increasingly commodified in their own right. So, what is the significance of this phenomenon?
North American industries of art and culture epitomize one recurring Woody Allen theme: the reduction of various art forms to mere commodities
Art is more than pleasure and entertainment. Indeed, it can be that too, but a film is more than a couple of hours of visual pleasure and emotional commentary, an album is more than an hour of auditory ecstasy, an academic journal is more than 30 pages of enlightenment, and a painting is more than an abstract world of colours and illusions; art reflects, creates, and maintains culture.
When commodified, art is no longer a valid means of cultural expression; it no longer represents the everyday struggles of the average North American, rather a glorified, unrealistic portrayal of life that reflects the values, beliefs, and behaviours of an elite few.
The analogous relationship between contemporary culture and commodification of the arts is an issue of deep significance.
In the following weeks, with the inspiration, ideas, and insight of Woody Allen, I will explore the perplexities of this relationship through the contrast of sell-out culture industries and noncommercial raw art — from media and film, to graffiti walls and bathroom stalls, I will divulge why the commodification of the arts is more pertinent now than ever before.
I think your argument, while interesting, is fundamentally flawed. You depict comodification as something taking away from the mass for the preferential consumption of the few, which is backward. Comodification seeks to cheapen the primary thrust of an object or viewpoint for mass consumption. Its why few can appreciate abstract art forms that appeal to highly specialized diets, but everybody can co opt a Che Guevara, despite the tenuous connection between the appeal of his revolutionary spirit and our every day.
Furthermore, Annie Hall is the furthest thing from a purely sentimental romance. Its a mulling of the elemental disconnect between people given a sociological, cultural and intellectual drift, and the dashing of the overtly simplistic idea of ‘soul mates’ as espoused in films like Love Story. Its a melancholy film and a melancholy piece, which Allen explores in many of his films, such as the aforementioned Hannah and Her Sisters (a classic Allen trope which investigates people falling in and out of love for all the wrong reasons) and Allen losing his love interest to Alan Alda’s blowhard in Crimes and Misdemeanors.
Lastly, it is a very chic observation to associate North American society with crude consumerism that doesn’t understand a ‘genius’ like Allen or his sensibilities. Have you lived in Europe? They have the same sociological schisms between mass entertainment and (often soporific) intellectual stimulation. This viewpoint on our side of the pond is simply a perpetualization of a flawed stereotype.