The quirky, complex Woody Allen has had, amongst his many dimensions and vocations, a 40-year career as a movie writer, director and actor. With about 60 movies to his credit in one way or another, it might surprise folks to read that he considers Zelig (1983) one of his six favorites.
Zelig was remarkable for its time, a feature-length, theatrical “mockumentary”. Prior to Zelig, Allen’s own 1969 release “Take the Money and Run” and Albert Brooks’ 1979 film “Real Life” were probably the most recognizable mockumentaries (even before that term was coined by Rob Reiner for his “This Is Spinal Tap“). Spinal Tap may have been the more mainstream, commercially-popular example of the genre upon its initial release in 1984. However, Zelig placed its subject in a historical context, and the subject’s actions had an impact on world affairs. This weighty undertaking was then combined with the standard mockumentary “inside joke” humor, fanciful examples of whimsy, and an actual love story, and encompassed all of that within a technical expertise that predated the digital film-making techniques available beginning in the early ’90s. Its a heady endeavor for a movie that clocks in at a mere 79 minutes.
Set primarily in the 1920s and ’30s, Zelig tells the fictional story of one Leonard Zelig, a seemingly ordinary man who is discovered to have the unique ability to take on the physical characteristics of those around him. While the premise might seem too thin or flimsy for a feature-length movie (Forrest Gump, anyone?), Allen presents and portrays Zelig as a damaged soul, who seemingly finds acceptance through his “chameleon” nature, albeit with severe (and severely funny) consequences.
Vincent Canby noted this satisfyingly broad palette in his review:
Yet ”Zelig” is not only pricelessly funny, it’s also, on occasion, very moving. It works simultaneously as social history, as a love story, as an examination of several different kinds of film narrative, as satire and as parody.
Co-star Mia Farrow is brilliantly understated in her role as Dr. Eudora Fletcher, a psychiatrist who wants to help Zelig with this strange disorder. She futilely attempts to hypnotize him, and here the film has some of its most riotously dry and funny scenes, with her and Zelig arguing over whether Zelig himself is a doctor. Allen’s trademark stand-up intonations, timing and vocal patterns imbue the scenes with pure joy. (4:00 mark onward).
Eventually, she succeeds in hypnotizing him, and through this discovers that he yearns for approval so strongly he physically changes to fit in with those around him. Fletcher’s devotion to finding a cure for Zelig eventually pays off, but not without complications; now Zelig develops a personality which is violently intolerant of other people’s opinions.
I mentioned that this is in fact a love story, as Dr. Fletcher does fall for the lonely, misunderstood, unloved Zelig. While real-life stories of doctors having relationships with their patients may incur scorn, here the storytelling is subtle enough, and the suspension of “reality” legitimate enough, that this “taboo” is overlooked. Fletcher’s fierce determination to cure Zelig is set against her unfulfilling romance with a man much higher on the social scale. But something in Zelig, and something about Zelig, beguiles and enchants her to the point of choosing him.
Meanwhile, because of the media coverage of the case, both patient and doctor become part of the popular culture of their time. Here the technical wizardry and cinematography really come to fore, as Allen’s character seamlessly interacts with the political and socialite stars of the day, from Fanny Brice to Adolf Hitler.
