By the time he set out to make The Purple Rose of Cairo, Woody Allen already had about two decades of filmmaking behind him, having grown to be arguably the most acclaimed director of American comedies working at the time – but gradually over the years, he lost his desire to tell outrageous stories, and instead gravitated towards more melancholy works, either those that were purely dramatic (such as the extraordinary Interiors, which remains one of his most fascinating experiments), or those that are still objectively comedies, but which employ a more mature form of humour. This film is certainly one of Allen’s most intriguing projects, telling the story of a mild-mannered waitress who escapes the humdrum of her everyday life (which includes a loveless marriage and a job that she struggles to do well) during the Great Depression by taking regular trips to her local cinema, where she basks in whatever wonders Hollywood has deemed appropriate for her working-class New Jersey neighbourhood, and soon finds herself confronted with the presence of the star of her latest cinematic obsession, who quite literally steps out of the screen and assimilates himself into her life. Delicate, touching and hilariously funny in all the ways we would expect a film with such an outlandish but compelling premise as this would be, The Purple Rose of Cairo is one of Allen’s best films in both story and execution. While it may not be the only instance where he explores some of these themes, it is certainly one of the most touching, especially in how it carefully develops its ideas to do more than just pander to the surface-level premise, instead going in pursuit of something far more profound, while never losing the spark of genuine humour that ties everything together and makes this so distinctly the work of a director with a clear and concise vision, one we are truly fortunate to have experienced, especially when he evokes an enchanting atmosphere that celebrates the medium that continues to challenge conventions and bring legions of viewers so much joy.

It is not a secret that Allen adores cinema – even early in his career where he worked in television and as a stand-up comedian, his efforts always felt like he was quietly auditioning to be on the silver screen in some capacity, being given this opportunity relatively early, enough for him to have a solid career that has lasted over half a century, and is still going to this day. He has perpetually been fueled by his admiration for the great masters that preceded him (and his references were always very clear, almost as if he wanted the likes of Ingmar Bergman and Federico Fellini to take note of his reverence towards their work), and has often made films that directly explore this love for the art of cinema. Based on this, it doesn’t initially seem like The Purple Rose of Cairo is all that different from films like Stardust Memories and the forthcoming Deconstructing Harry  and A Rainy Day in New York (amongst several others), all of which were built from the foundation of being Allen’s expression of his undying devotion for cinema in all of its forms. It is difficult to criticise this approach, since not only is his fondness extremely infectious, but the passion with which he tells this story is enough to propel the entire film. It is a piece of metafictional filmmaking, which was neither his first nor last flirtation with this style of storytelling, but perhaps the one in which it was most vibrant and interesting, especially since it occurred during that period in the 1980s where he was regularly experimenting with style and substance, rather than depending mostly on formulae, as was the case in most of his later work. Ultimately, this film is based on a very simple premise: at some point or another, we have all fantasised about stepping into the worlds presented by the films that we love, escaping reality and becoming part of that magical, distant life shown to us on screen. The difference is that this film inverts this, looking at the hilarity that can ensue when the characters on screen step into our world, which lays the foundation for a hilarious and meaningful celebration of both the medium and the people who voraciously consume it, to the point where it becomes a part of their lives – and as someone who relates to the character of Cecilia more than most characters in film, The Purple Rose of Cairo is certainly representative of some of my own experiences, albeit not in quite as literal a way as shown to us in this film.

However, the celebration of cinematic escapism is only part of what makes The Purple Rose of Cairo so special, one of the many fascinating components that work together as a well-oiled narrative mechanism that explores several different themes with tact and humour, enough to propel the entire story all on its own, which makes it as much of a narrative-driven film as it is atmospheric, which is a trait that Allen was frequently exploring during this decade. There is something much deeper lingering beneath the surface of this film, and it is much more than just the story of a film character coming to life and taking one of the audience members on a whirlwind romance, even if this is appropriately considered the driving force behind the film. This is a marvelous, stylish philosophical odyssey that explores the past with sensitivity and charm, while still managing to be distinctly irreverent in the way that nearly all of Allen’s comedies tend to be, especially those with a more profound meaning embedded at the core. We can start to understand the broader intentions of this film through questioning some of the contextual decisions, such as setting this film during the Great Depression, since this story is resonant enough to take place in any period (granted it was during the period in which film was actively being produce, which allowed nearly a decade of potential eras for Allen to explore), but where this particular setting adds levels of nuance onto the film. The reasoning will be very different depending on the viewer, as will the impact such an approach tends to have, which makes The Purple Rose of Cairo so enigmatic, despite its remarkable simplicity and the fact that it delivers exactly what it promises, without even a moment’s hesitation when it comes to providing us with a heartwarming story of individuality, where the emotions are perfectly tempered, the humour genuine and heartfelt, and the overall experience being filled to the brim with warmth and optimism, perhaps more than we have ever encountered from an Allen film, the caustic edge still being present in this film, but in a far-less defining manner.

There isn’t any logical reason to spend too much time waxing poetic over Allen’s collaborations with Mia Farrow, since she was perhaps the one collaborator with whom he was most intrinsically bonded, with Farrow working with Allen in over a dozen films, her very best performances being found throughout this creative partnership. There is certainly an argument to be made that The Purple Rose of Cairo is the very best of these thirteen films, at least in terms of how much Farrow is given to do – whereas Broadway Danny Rose has her funniest performance, and Alice the one where the plumbs the deepest emotions in a far more dramatic narrative (albeit one that is still punctuated by humour), her work as Cecilia here blends both of them, giving her the chance to not only showcase her magnetic charm, but also her incredible versatility, her ability to oscillate between several different emotions (sometimes even within the same scene, and often done without speaking – just consider that striking final shot, which is simply of Farrow’s face as she watches the “Cheek to Cheek” sequence in Top Hat, which should resonate with anyone who had experienced that extraordinary moment) while never having any of them come across as anything less than wholly authentic, is an extraordinary skill and one of the many reasons Allen found so much value in their creative collaborations. She’s joined by a small but memorable cast – Jeff Daniels and Danny Aiello are both terrific as the film character (and movie star, since he is essentially playing dual roles) that emerges from the screen, and her vaguely abusive husband, respectively. Undeniably, both of these performances are constructed to be mostly reactionary to Farrow’s performance and, therefore, depend on her exceptional skills to make the entire film work. Mercifully, she delivers in several ways, as does the rest of the cast, who work well with Allen to help him realise his ambitious vision, bringing The Purple Rose of Cairo to life with so much sincerity and genuine charm.

Most filmmakers would consider a film like The Purple Rose of Cairo to be their peak, and many likely wish they were capable of making something this wonderfully unique and compelling. Yet, for Allen it is business as usual, a charming and insightful comedy that delivers an impactful message without needing to exert too much effort, and leaving at just the right moment, never daring to overstay its welcome, which is a common trait of all of his films, and the reason he remains so celebrated as one of our smartest and most compelling creatives of the 20th century. These are the great pleasures of seeing a master like Allen in his element, and while most still uphold films like Annie Hall and Hannah and Her Sisters as the peak of his career (and not without reason, both are quite exceptional), the tide is gradually turning as more viewers begin to experience this film for the first time. It was never revered, but it has only recently started to attain the status of one of his many peaks, which is long overdue, since this is an extraordinary and meaningful film. Whether we want to view it as a magnificent ode to the art of cinema (with its poetic interludes being well-matched with the more outrageous humour that keeps it so entertaining), or a vibrant and compelling portrait of the human condition, as filtered through the experiences of a young woman who (much like many of us) seeks to escape everyday life through the magic of cinema, but somehow gets more than she bargains for, leading to the most truly captivating aspects of this film. The Purple Rose of Cairo may stretch the limits of the artistic imagination to the point of being implausible, which is sharply contrasted with the gorgeous but authentic design of a small town stricken by the long-term effects of the Great Depression, but it all becomes so enthralling once we surrender to the unimpeachable charm that lingers beneath the surface of this film. The Purple Rose of Cairo is a poignant and heartwarming blend of comedy and drama, handcrafted by a director who refused to rest on his laurels, instead choosing to pursue the stories and philosophical concepts that fascinated him. Any filmmaker would be fortunate to possess this level of brilliance, but this bespoke originality is the precise reason why we can celebrate Allen’s work as being ahead of its time and truly incredible, even when it is slightly simpler, at least at a cursory glance, since there are always surprises lurking in his magnificent films.