ANNIE HALL
written by
Woody Allen
Marshall Brickman
(Sound and Woody Allen's monologue begins)
FADE IN:
White credits dissolve in and out on black screen. No sound.
FADE OUT: credits
FADE IN:
Abrupt medium close-up of Alvy Singer doing a comedy monologue. He
wearing a crumbled sports jacket and tieless shirt; the background is stark.
ALVY
There's an old joke. Uh, two elderly
women are at a Catskills mountain
resort, and one of 'em says: "Boy, the
food at this place is really terrible."
The other one says, "Yeah, I know, and
such ... small portions." Well, that's
essentially how I feel about life. Full
of loneliness and misery and suffering
and unhappiness, and it's all over much
too quickly. The-the other important
joke for me is one that's, uh, usually
attributed to Groucho Marx, but I think
it appears originally in Freud's wit and
its relation to the unconscious. And it
goes like this-I'm paraphrasing: Uh ...
"I would never wanna belong to any club
that would have someone like me for a
member." That's the key joke of my adult
life in terms of my relationships with
women. Tsch, you know, lately the
strangest things have been going
through my mind, 'cause I turned forty,
tsch, and I guess I'm going through a
life crisis or something, I don't know.
I, uh ... and I'm not worried about aging.
I'm not one o' those characters, you know.
Although I'm balding slightly on top, that's
about the worst you can say about me. I,
uh, I think I'm gonna get better as I get
older, you know? I think I'm gonna be the-
the balding virile type, you know, as
opposed to say the, uh, distinguished
gray, for instance, you know? 'Less I'm
neither o' those two. Unless I'm one o'
those guys with saliva dribbling out of
his mouth who wanders into a cafeteria
with a shopping bag screaming about
socialism.
(Sighing)
Annie and I broke up and I-I still can't
get my mind around that. You know, I-I
keep sifting the pieces of the relationship
through my mind and-and examining my life
and tryin' to figure out where did the
screw-up come, you know, and a year ago we
were... tsch, in love. You know, and-and-and
... And it's funny, I'm not-I'm not a
morose type. I'm not a depressive character.
I-I-I, uh,
(Laughing)
you know, I was a reasonably happy kid,
I guess. I was brought up in Brooklyn
during World War II.
CUT TO:
INT. DOCTOR'S OFFICE-DAY
Alvy as young boy sits on a sofa with his mother in an old-fashioned,
cluttered doctor's office. The doctor stands near the sofa, holding a
cigarette and listening.
MOTHER
(To the doctor)
He's been depressed. All off a sudden,
he can't do anything.
DOCTOR
(Nodding)
Why are you depressed, Alvy?
MOTHER
(Nudging Alvy)
Tell Dr. Flicker.
(Young Alvy sits, his head down. His
mother answers for him)
It's something he read.
DOCTOR
(Puffing on his cigarette and
nodding)
Something he read, huh?
ALVY
(His head still down)
The universe is expanding.
DOCTOR
The universe is expanding?
ALVY
(Looking up at the doctor)
Well, the universe is everything, and if
it's expanding, someday it will break apart
and that would be the end of everything!
Disgusted, his mother looks at him.
MOTHER
(shouting)
What is that your business?
(she turns back to the doctor)
He stopped doing his homework.
ALVY
What's the point?
MOTHER
(Excited, gesturing with her hands)
What has the universe got to do with it?
You're here in Brooklyn! Brooklyn is not
expanding!
DOCTOR
(Heartily, looking down at Alvy)
It won't be expanding for billions of years
yet, Alvy. And we've gotta try to enjoy
ourselves while we're here. Uh?
He laughs.
