Has Woody Allen lost the magical touch that placed him at the very apex of his craft all those years ago? The answer is unfortunately the affirmative, as his most recent efforts have proven that he epitomizes the concept of quantity over quality. While not all of his films produced in the past decade are awful (Midnight in Paris and Blue Jasmine are quite excellent, and a few of his others have fervent supporters), even at their best, they stand in the shadow of his superior work. This doesn’t mean that he should stop working entirely, since he has proven that he may have lost the spark of genius from his earlier work, but he still makes some very entertaining films that are enjoyable enough when taken for what they are. In this regard, Rifkin’s Festival is a film that fits in with the director’s recent output, being a charming comedy set in some beautiful European locations, where romance and humour intersect to give the viewer something endearing. Not wholly original, but far from the dreadful bundle of neuroses many attribute to his recent work, this film is delightful in its own way, particularly in how it is a relatively simple affair that never promises to be much more than we see on the surface, which helps us hedge our bets and manage our expectations. I’m a lot fonder of this film than many others, but it’s important to note that even those who admire his efforts to bring this story to the screen have to admit that Rifkin’s Festival isn’t anything particularly groundbreaking or a rekindling of the director’s esteemed career – but instead functions as a solid comedy with some genuine laughs and soft-hearted emotions, which may just be enough for viewers to embrace.

Early in the 1980s, Allen underwent a considerable shift in style – in the years leading up to this decade, he had taken a few bold leaps in terms of the way he told stories, with Interiors representing his very first foray into drama, something he’d continue to explore in future films to some degree. This decade was undeniably his most celebrated in terms of his work as an auteur – no longer constricted to merely making hilarious comedies, Allen could shift his focus to films that may often be very funny, but not to the point where their humour distracts from the more dramatic material. One of the most common characteristics of this era was the director borrowing liberally from many of his cinematic heroes – Federico Fellini and Ingmar Bergman are as indirectly responsible for Allen’s career as the various muses that he wove into these films, and who defined much of his career. Rifkin’s Festival is one of his most self-reflective films, as it contains direct homages to these filmmakers (amongst others to whom Allen clearly has an undying devotion), almost to the point where it seems like he is intentionally commenting on those who claimed that he was at his best when making pastiches to other directors. This is only partially true, since Allen’s reverence for these filmmakers is clear, and it forms the foundation for this film – but ultimately, he carved his own style in between paying tribute to them. Perhaps the direct allusions here (some may say Allen was even parodying some of their work, which seems both dismissive and truthful) are a bit too heavy-handed, but they work in the context of the film and the message it was aiming to convey.

The rate at which the film succeeds at establishing its message is entirely up for debate, with one of the major criticisms being that Allen did well in paying tribute to his heroes, but struggled in tying it all together. To some degree this is quite true – the film seems to be leading to a specific emotional crescendo, but the narrative isn’t always as invested in these characters as it should be. The homages are well-made and very interesting, with Allen’s reflective approach being enough to at least make Rifkin’s Festival worth a look. Yet, it rarely amounts to anything other than a very entertaining comedy that sees a director showcasing not only his admiration for his idols, but a keen prowess that allowed him to replicate many of their most famous works in bite-sized segments. A much better film would’ve been one that dived deeper into this aspect of the story – the romantic sub-plot is charming but inconsequential, and it almost seems as if its an afterthought, a wraparound theme that exists purely to facilitate the director’s frequent attempts to make a love-letter to cinema. Allen certainly is someone who adores his medium, and had this film focused more on exploring the main character’s own fascination with cinema, it’s likely the film would’ve been so much more compelling. The setting of the San Sebastián International Film Festival was a perfect opportunity to make a poetic ode to the reasons film is cherished by so many people – and while Allen does start to a conversation, he struggles to maintain it, since every time it seems to be heading towards something insightful, it veers away, instead gravitating towards the derivative love story that may be sweet, but carries very little weight overall.

Rifkin’s Festival is the rare kind of film that, despite being composed of almost universally good elements, it ends up being mediocre at best. However, if we look at these individual components, we see how there was a lot of promise underpinning the film. One of the most interesting elements was the performance given by Wallace Shawn, who remains one of the most captivating character actors in modern cinema. A veteran of stage and screen, he’s an actor often thrust into scene-stealing supporting roles, with most of his leading performances coming in rarely-seen adaptations of works by the likes of Henrik Ibsen and Anton Chekhov, challenging texts that showcase Shawn as an actor, but remain impenetrable to the wider population. Rifkin’s Festival is a great opportunity for the actor to show his talents to a broader audience, with his performance as Mort Rifkin being an absolute delight. As middling as the film around him may be, Shawn commits to the role, and plays a character who is the very common surrogate for the director, even going so far as to characterize himself as a “an old, middle-class Jew from the Bronx”, which is layered with the self-deprecating humour we associate with the director. Shawn can surrender to the mystical qualities of the film, and we genuinely believe that he is an old man who appreciates all the intricacies around cinema history (mainly because this is exactly who the actor is), so its wonderful to see how he anchors this film and almost single-handedly makes it worthwhile, since he is fully dedicated to bringing the character to life, so much that the rest of the cast (which is drawn from many corners of the global industry) is filtered through this character’s perspective. It’s a solid and entertaining performance that is often much better than the film in which it is found, which seems to be an unfortunately common trend in Allen’s recent output.

The reaction to Rifkin’s Festival has been understandably divided. It is not a bad film in the least – it is honest and delivers exactly what is promised, and anyone who has seen Allen’s work over the past few years should know exactly what to expect. It’s by no means the lowest point in the director’s career, with the general sentiment being that it is actually one of his stronger efforts in recent years. However, it is barely a shadow of what we know Allen to be capable of, and even at its most entertaining, it just lacks the general spark that made his earlier films so special. There are still some distinctive characteristics that work in the film’s favour – Allen is speaking on one of the topics he absolutely adores (classic cinema), so there are an abundance of references to older films that any cinema aficionado will ultimately enjoy, and the script has some really funny content that shows that Allen hasn’t lost his immense wit over the years. It’s a fun, enjoyable film with a lot of heart, but not enough to elevate it beyond merely passable. Going into Rifkin’s Festival, the potential viewer should know what to expect, in order to avoid disappointment – this is yet another endearing comedy by a director who has nestled into this chapter of his career where he is driven by beautiful locations and sweet but inconsequential stories. There aren’t many discernible stakes found in this film, and the general sensation is that it’s far from all that strong in terms of the story it tells – but ultimately, if someone is just seeking a solid comedy with beautiful locations and a diverting sense of humour, they can certainly do a lot worse than this film.