Woody Allen is a thriller. In the United States, his Memoirs were announced and then canceled. A second publisher published them. In France, Stock had planned their publication on May 13. Coronavirus obliges, the date was postponed to 27. It is now fixed for June 3. Scandal lovers will rub their hands. Allen gives his version of the facts, paints an unflattering portrait of Mia Farrow.
Film buffs will be thrilled. We find in this “Autobiography of an illiterate misanthropist and mad of gangsters” the charm, the humor, the derision, the melancholy which make the qualities of the director. There is also his unconsciousness (he does not understand that one can be shocked by his union with Soon-Yi, to whom the book is dedicated), his egotism. This is someone who at 16 made more money than his parents by writing sketches for television, for whom the movies were obvious. He does not take himself for a genius, considers his films with a shrug of the shoulders (“After proving that