Radio Days (1987)

It is incredible that Woody Allen can churn out so many movies and so many of them be such high quality and such good films. Radio Days is one of those films. It is unique and fun and has Woody Allen written all over it. The film is a nostalgic look at the golden age of radio during Allen's childhood as he reflects on the impact it had on his young life. The whole story is told in anecdotal form. There is a wide collection of stories, all related to radio broadcasts of the time as well as the great music that the time period spawned. The movie is short but is still a very good watch that provides a very unique and entertaining experience.

As with most Woody Allen films, Radio Days is a one of a kind experience because of the way the story is told. Allen is a master at substituting conventional storytelling methods with his own unique storytelling flair. And he is able to do this without seeming pretentious or self important at all. He simply knows how to creative a narrative in any style he chooses. He keeps the story very interesting with his colorful cast of characters and the interesting things they go through. The film uniquely combines stories of fictional radio stars and fictional characters (which are obviously based heavily on Woody Allen's actual family) with actual stories of the time period. Obviously the film focuses a lot on World War II because it is set in the 40s. The time period, however, is solely established through the radio broadcasts our characters listen to. These actual broadcasts are used in certain places for humor and other places for somber dramatic effect. The film did a great job at combining funny with serious in all the appropriate places. There were moments when I would laugh out loud, as well as moments that sent a chill through my spine. It is a fascinating watch.

Staying true to the Woody Allen experience, the dialouge in Radio Days is great. It is fast and chaotic, but also sophisticated and mature. The whole cast is very talkative and this is played up excellently. There are plenty of great characters with some wonderfully witty lines that put a smile on your face. The characters are all very different and very quirky. There are a lot of memorable people in this movie and some hilarious performances.

This movie is a lot of fun, but it also has a clear motive. That motive is to respect the radio era and make sure that it is never forgotten. Allen clearly defines is it as an extremely important and culturally significant piece of technology in the time period. Allen plays up his jokes a great deal and the movie is very entertaining, but its main goal is to show that radio is something that should never be forgotten in the long history of technical innovations. All of Woody Allen's films have some sort of personal significance to him, but Radio Days displays a different kind of personal connection. Instead of being a film which reflects on Allen's relationship and his adult life, it takes us back to his childhood and reflects on the things that affected him there. Radio Days is an important watch, but it also very entertaining.

Fmovies: In my opinion, Radio Days is right up there with Annie Hall though it's different in that it's following several people's lives. Woody doesn't act in this, but his narration is excellent.

He takes the wonderful old songs and commercials from that time and weaves them into the story. I was completely captivated.

It's not a "laugh a minute" type film, but it also gets you thinking. Nevertheless, it has some hilarious scenes. Check out the Jewish fasting holiday scene. I've watched it at least 6 times and I still laugh. Also the scene with Mia Farrow's character was superb. One of my favorite lines is when she tells a top radio producer in her high-pitched nasal voice, "Jeez. We can't keep meeting like this. In the backs of cars, movie theaters and stalled elevators. You're gonna lose your respect for me!" I love this film.

I thought I was being original when I made the connection between Woody Allen's "Radio Days" and Federico Fellini's "Amarcord," but I was being naive. The parallels are so transparent it is of no surprise that most of the IMDB reviewers (and I imagine those others as well) caught the similarity.

And it's a good similarity - "Radio Days" is as successful in transporting the viewer to a different place and time as "Amarcord" was. It also cements my conclusion that Woody Allen is the only director who "spoofs" great art films and artistic styles, confirmed by his tributes to Ingmar Bergman and German Expressionists.

All that aside, "Radio Days" is, second of all, a look at Allen's childhood memories weaved together by radio. It's the story of his family (his large and extended family and neighborhood personages), their likes, dislikes, relationships and favorite radio shows. They are inextricably connected as genetic members of a family, but also more intangibly linked by radio broadcasts, to which they listen to individually as well as collectively. They have favorite songs and shows - each favorite reflecting the personality of a given character. They also share great love for one another, though they quibble like all human beings do. In fact, that tender quibbling, love and loss and understanding is what makes Allen's characters come to life so successfully - no wonder he speaks of them with warmth.

What "Radio Days" is about first of all and foremost, is nostalgia. The film would only be a heartwarming family tale and nothing more if it were not "recollected" by Woody Allen, the narrator. His role in the film (in which he never physically appears) is that of a story-teller. He transports the audience to his memories consciously, mixing present reflections with the unadulterated spirit of his memories. And it is he, not the characters in the film as much, who experiences the nostalgia, the central theme of "Radio Days."

In narrating his memories, Allen is able to distance himself from them temporally. He is telling a tale that borders on fantasy, such as that on whose form nostalgic memories take place. There is a bittersweet yearning for the past and a realization that memories must inevitably fade, change, yield to time's destructiveness. Re-telling them not only reveals how one thinks life once was (usually painted over with warmth and pleasantness), but also oneself and the knowledge that these times are no longer physically accessible. How we recollect our past tells us of us as much as it does of the past. In "Radio Days" that past is warm and Allen's yearning for that warmth and childish innocence is what pervades the film so well giving it its nostalgic quality.

And nostalgia, the film seems to suggest, is a feeling worth experiencing. If one can glance back at his life and feel a longing towards the past, a warmth emanating from his memories, then he remembers life as having been kind to him. Even if the details flee from the mind (as they inevitably do) and only the feelings inspired by hazy memories remain. And that, if nothing else, is not only comforting, but also meaningful.

Radio Days fmovies. In preface, let me say that I was born at the tail-end of the "golden age of radio," but just in time to experience a touch of its magic and the hold it had on households night after night in that pre-TV era. Add to that a favorite aunt who had worked in radio for years on the West Coast and who regaled her nephew with story upon story, which in turn led to the years I later spent in radio (luckily, prior to the "formula radio" days). It all adds up to my absolutely having to go see "Radio Days" when it first came out, despite the fact that I'd never been the world's foremost Woody Allen fan. Too much of his work, for me, lacked that indefinable but oh so recognizable element of "heart."

Well, I was wrong about Woody. This film shows it.

Autobiographical -- or perhaps semi-autobiographical -- in nature, "Radio Days" evokes the time when people returned "to those thrilling days of yesteryear," and for whom, quite probably, it was equally thrilling to contemplate the magic of a box in their living room that could cause them to "watch" the stories unfold in their minds. "Remotes," or on-the-spot broadcasts transported them to the scene of unfolding tragedies or triumphs in a way that newspapers never could (and which TV, for all its advantages, rarely matches).

And yet the film, for all its authenticity in recreating studio practices (watch, for example, how the actors drop completed script pages onto the floorrather than turning them and risking a tell-tale rustle of paper), isn't really so much about radio itself as it is about the people who listened, as personified by one raucous, cantankerous and loving Brooklyn family. Beautifully evoked, particularly by Julie Kavner (Mother), Michael Tucker (Father), and the incomparable Dianne Wiest (as the perenially lovelorn Aunt Bea), it is their reactions to what they hear on the radio -- whether listening breathlessly to the war news (at a time when the end result was anything but certain) or Bea's abandonment in the middle of nowhere by a panicked suitor as Orson Welles' "War of the Worlds" broadcast takes hold -- that bring to life the era and the power of that medium.

Standouts? The whole cast is perfect, but for me, in addition to those previously mentioned, I have to cit Mia Farrow's portrayal of the dim-bulbed Sally White, who transforms herself with the aid of speech lessons into a radio personality. (For that matter, catch Danny Aiello as a less-than-brilliant hitman, particularly his scenes with Dina DeAngeles as his mom.)

Criticisms? One: At the end of a poignant scene in which young Joe has finally discovered what his dad does for a living, Allen insists on falling into some standby "schtick" in his voiceover. (I guess he couldn't resist; thankfully, it doesn't ruin the moment.)

Ultimately, of course, it is the era itself that this film celebrates. Faithfully, and lovingly, it is recreated with a skill that points up its absurdities at the same time it makes one hopefully nostalgic. And, if you're not very careful, you wind up falling hopelessly in love with this funny, obscure Brooklyn family.

And to the end of my days, I'll always wonder whether poor Aunt Bea ever did find her "Mr. Right" . . .

Woody's best " memory" piece has great set designs, a sad and funny script and the usual great, well chosen cast, including a very young Seth Green playing Allen as a boy. Diane Wiest and Julie Kavner excel strongly in the female leads, Allen's voice narrates the whole picture, and Mia Farrow squeaks deliciously as a bimbo cigarette girl who gets a culture make-over. This is the only Allen movie that both Farrow and Diane Keaton appear in (she has a very brief cameo singing a song in a night club.) The final scene on top of the roof is almost bittersweet, altho it is nice to see a landscape filled with wide eyed people, before the world was dominated by television. The story becomes even more poignant as you age. Watch it repeatedly over different stages of your life...

Woody Allen fondly recalls that age before TV when radio was the nucleus around which family life revolved (and evolved). It's an affectionate (and, for Allen, atypically nostalgic) period piece, sketching with disarming humor the memories, anecdotes, and fantasies of an East Coast childhood in the 1930s and 1940s, narrated by the director himself and set against a collection of once-popular radio songs and programs. Television could never trigger such glowing memories, because TV numbs the imagination while the invisibility of the radio voice tends to enhance it. Allen includes plenty of jokes to that effect: the heroic Masked Avenger turns out, off microphone, to be the portly Wallace Shawn; the nonsense song Mairsie Doates recalls a neighbor brandishing a meat cleaver on a downtown rampage. The comedy is never more than feather-light, demanding nothing from its audience except uncomplicated laughter, but this is one filmmaker who has always been more effective on a smaller scale.