Woody Allen's MELINDA and MELINDA

FADE IN. Four people sit at an impossibly cool and unpretentious French bistro on the Lower East Side of New York City. Each of the four holds a single malt scotch, red wine, or white wine, depending on which would fit best with their wardrobe and demeanor.

The conversation is a high-minded debate over the nature of tragedy and comedy. And no one comes in and shoots everybody in the head with an automatic weapon. You've let me down AGAIN, Mr. Allen.

Woody Allen made another movie. He's not in this one! In fact, the casting move which I could see (whether or not it has been admitted or even took place), was the first thing Woody Allen has done right since 1977 - except for the time when he married his daughter.

MELINDA and MELINDA is a cinematic debate between the tragic and the comedic. The story is told both ways. I hope I didn't ruin the surprise, but surprises that gimmicky shouldn't even throw down in the first place (nice to see one of the titans of American Cinema - justified or not - reverting to gimmicks).

I went to this film expecting to make jokes like "I didn't know you could release the same film for thirty years and keep getting paid for it", and "how are we able to have so many art house New York pseudo-intellects and a military in the same country simultaneously?" and "isn't Woody Allen a stupid idiot?" - that last might not be a joke in the strict sense.

All of those jokes are still valid. And so much so. But Woody Allen has raised a really interesting point. I've been thinking a lot about life, and whether it is an inherently tragic or comedic experience. I'm going to use the rest of my space to debate that point.

Just kidding. I would never do that. Not in a sh*tty movie review (there's a time and a place for everything), not in a book (my Ph.D. in Philosophy from that company that advertises during daytime television is in the mail, I think), and certainly not on film (because if I wrote two versions of the same movie, I wouldn't mix them to get praised for resurrecting my career, I'd just pick the one I liked better and deal with the mediocrity of my existence).