Review: Scoop

Scarlett Johansson plays an American journalism student in London who is called on stage at a performance by magician Splendini (Woody Allen), and things get weird. In one of those ‘step inside the box and I’ll make you disappear’ illusions, Johansson is spooked by the spirit of recently deceased Brit journo Joe Strombel (Ian McShane). Strombel gives Johansson the scoop he himself was poised to write about; Rich, handsome Brit aristocrat Peter Lyman (Hugh Jackman) is the sought after Tarot Card Killer, a serial killer of prostitutes. Johansson tells Splendini (AKA Sid Waterman) about her experience, and the duo start investigating Lyman. Once Johansson meets the handsome aristocrat, however, romantic sparks shoot off. Surely this charming nice guy can’t possibly be a serial murderer, right? Charles Dance plays a newspaper editor, Anthony Stewart Head is a detective, and Julian Glover is Lord Lyman, Peter’s father.

 

The second collaboration between writer-director Woody Allen and star Scarlett Johansson proves to be even lesser than the overrated “Match Point”. This 2006 murder-mystery with occasional touches of supernatural whimsy isn’t a bad film, it’s just that it’s not much of a film at all, and the mystery is entirely transparent. It’s kinda frivolous and empty, and not all that dissimilar to “Manhattan Murder Mystery”, though obviously quite a bit better and a whole lot less annoying than that film was. It’s easy to see why this isn’t regarded as one of the filmmaker’s best.

 

Woody himself is ideal here and often funny as a corny magician, but co-star Johansson tries way too hard. She comes off affected and actory, like she knows she’s in a comedy. In fact, she comes off like she’s doing improv games or a barely rehearsed “SNL” sketch. It’s a really amateurish performance. Honestly, I just don’t see her talent, though it’s pretty damn obvious why Woody cast himself alongside her. ‘Coz y’know…boobs. But why then did he have her wear a one-piece swimsuit? If I was a horny director I’d have her in a flimsy string bikini at most.

 

Hugh Jackman is perfectly fine casting, but Woody doesn’t seem interested in his character as anything except a plot point, really. I actually think Hugh Grant would’ve been even better. Talented actors like Richard Johnson, Charles Dance, Julian Glover, Anthony Stewart Head, and Sanjeev Bhaskar are also terribly wasted (and in the latter three cases, strangely uncredited) in nothing roles.

 

It’s unfortunate that, like the awful “Midnight in Paris”, the film takes flights of fancy. Woody for me is at his best when he either plays things in real world terms, or only dips his toes into fantasy, ala “Play it Again, Sam”. Having said that, it’s through no fault of actor Ian McShane, who is excellent (He’s come a long way since playing the toyboy in 1973’s “The Last of Sheila”), it’s just that the supernatural element comes across as incredibly clunky and corny. This isn’t the worst Woody Allen film you’re ever going to see, but it might be just about the emptiest. Woody’s performance is fun, but the film is sorely lacking.

 

Rating: C