Match Point was an irritating movie; the acting was horrible and it was almost as obnoxious about driving its point home as Spider-Man. At the core, it sounds like a Graham Greene novel (man marries, they can’t conceive, he has an affair with his brother-in-law’s future wife, brother in law breaks it off, they keep fucking, affair leads to pregnancy, wife gets pregnant, man kills subject of affair), but in execution it’s more Dostoevsky, of the beat-you-over-the-head-with-it variety. Shame Nabokov was so great, else this might turn into a rant against Russian authors.
In any event, did I mention that the acting was horrid? The supporting actors were all great, but the main characters had the talent of people from a high school production.
And, somebody needs to take the screenwriter and director out back. Oh, right, it’s Woody Allen! If Woody wants to keep the film intellectual, that’s fine. Weave together the themes of Crime and Punishment, opera, romance, infidelity, pregnancy, and tennis. But don’t tell me you’re doing it. Trust in your viewers to figure out the symbolism; they’re painfully obvious even without “hey, chuck, it’s amazing how often luck matters” uttered in one form or another every 5 minutes.