Woody Allen's oeuvre contains some of the most cherished films in existence, and also constitutes a serious concern for his well being, due to the extremely nebbish voices the man hears in his head, constantly pulling him in different directions.
As stated above, due to his naturally neurotic nature Woody Allen often hears voices is his head. This, by default, makes him completely BATSHIT INSANE. But unlike other gifted filmakers of his generation like Sam Peckinpah and Stanley Kubrick; who channeled their BATSHIT INSANITY into excessive boozing and crew-member-harrasment, respectivly, Woody listened to those voices intently, and from that guidence he nervously stumbled into cinematic immortality.
Here he comes folks, the future of comedy. Watch the fuck out.
In Woody's earliest endeavours; in stand up comedy, on broadway, and in his earlier, funnier, and less confusing movies, he is supremely guided by the most hilariously whiny voice of them all, what we'll call the "Meekish Meshuggah." Timid, neurotic, unrelentingly akward and always falling over his words in a hopless conversation where he tries so desperatly to appear more suave and confident then he actually is, the meshuggah often plays off like a smaller kosher version of Clark Kent. Which brings us to another dominant voice in Allen's head at this time, the alter ego of the Super Jew
Yes, Seth Rogen stole his powers from Woody Allen.
The Super Jew is the other half of Allen's stereotypical Hebrew humor spectrum. Still nerurotic and painfully intellectual and ineffectual as all hell, but with the willingness to always do the right thing and or somehow get the girl in the end. The second part of this scernio seems tragiclly ironic until we pass over to another seminal voice in Woody's head.
Many tales of lore have been documented of Allen's sexual conquests, attained not from his rugged good looks as you might imagine, but from the voice in his head known as the Sexual Dynamo; an often confused voice that speaks brashly, and acts swiftly. This voice has guided him to such screenplay fodder as Diane Keaton and Mia Farrow, proving once and for all that all beautiful women want really is just a guy with a great sense of humor.
These are their O-faces
This voice also guided him to Mia Farrow's adopted dughter from a previous marriage for some fucking reason. In what many proffesional analysits (read: tabloid editors) called "the creepiest and most unsettling thing ever," Farrow found naked pictures of her adopted Korean daughter, Soon-Yi Previn, in Ol' Woody's apartment. This sparked off a huge tidal wave of what-the-fuck variety confusion and controversy which follows Woody like a dark shadow from a Dateline NBC camera crew to this day. None of this is helped, of course, by the fact that the voices also told Woody to marry Previn in 1997.
Sometimes even the voices in your head can make mistakes.
On a less cringe inducing note, Allen has also followed a lifelong voice in his head which has led him to be a badass jazz clarinetist:
Blow on you crazy Hebrew diamond
If you want to see Allen and his band, the Eddie Davis New Orleans Jazz Band (just guess which kind of jazz they specialize in), you can see them every night at Carlyles Hotel in New York City, for 100 to 150 bucks a seat. This once again proves that selling short stories to the New Yorker and writing on Broadway just isn't enough for an honest man to make a living in Manhatten anymore.
The second half of Woody's film career has been a delicate hit-or-miss tightrope walk between the heartfelt absurdities of the Meekish Messugah/Super Jew (Zelig, Small Time Crooks, his character in Hannah and Her Sisters) and the unfathomably deep, pshycologically and intecectually mind-numbing exploits of the Moral Compass Messugah (the voice that taught us important lessons about people and life in Crimes and Misdemeanors, Interiors, and every other part of Hannah and Her Sisters). As of late, he seems to be listening to his Moral Compass Messugah more often, ironic given his decissions in the past two decades. But once again, we must not blame poor Woody, it's all guidence from the voices, and now that he's pushing 74, the voices are obviously getting more intense and overwhelming. The title of his latest film may be a cry for help to warn people of the stagnant, vacuous mindset wasteland that his thought process has become from years of neurotic schiztophrenia:
Indeed sir. Whatever works indeed.