Welcome back to yet another edition of Shut Up.
In previous iterations, we told John Boyega to shut up and we also told Bill Cosby to shut up, and we also asked nicely for Billie Eilish (after she premiered her No Time To Die opening title song) to retroactively shut up.
It seems as if there is no shortage of people to tell to shut the hell up.
That’s why we thought in the midst of the anxiety caused by the world imploding (and Contagion trending in the Top 10 movies on iTunes, which doesn’t help quell anxiety in the least), we wanted to take the opportunity to call out Woody Allen along with everyone else and tell him it’s time to completely, whole-heartedly, and perhaps surgically — shut his mouth.
Do you remember Twilight Zone: The Movie? Of course you do. And not because of the horrific helicopter accident that took multiple lives. No. You should remember it for the Joe Dante directed sequence in which a little boy living in a cartoon land has special powers and at some point gets fed up hearing his sister yell at him and so he does something super creepy. He makes her mouth disappear. I mean, do you remember that moment when she turns around and the audience reels back in horror because the sister literally has no mouth???
That. To Woody Allen.
In what world does Woody Allen think that people want to read his book, entitled Apropros of Nothing? This is the skewed mindset of a man who directed a movie every year for the last nth years and always found some journalist willing to sit opposite him and ask him important questions about his creative process, his casting philosophy and perhaps why he felt the need to make that movie during this year. Only a person with a complete skewed sense of self believes that writing an autobiography and then countering a story of abuse that has been documented many times over the years is actually a story that someone…anyone wants to read.
So, you know. Shut up, Mr. Allen.
Your movie career is over. Nobody wants to act in your movies. You’re past your prime. We can still enjoy some of the classics like Annie Hall and The Purple Rose of Cairo and Hannah and Her Sisters… But we cannot, in any way, enjoy a huge thick book of your egotistical words and stories about how you aren’t the person people say you are, and that you are the person people say you aren’t.
Did you know you can take the letters from his proposed book title, Apropros of Nothing and form the phrase Poison Proof? Isn’t that interesting? Don’t you find that fascinating in a kind of Room 237 Faked Moon Landing kind of way? Doesn’t it make you want to read his book because clearly there’s something he’s trying to tell us all without actually, really, telling us anything whatsoever?
No. Me neither.
Listen up, Woody. You’ve got your $55 million back from Amazon. Why not take the money and retire for once in your life? Take a vacation. Sit out under the sun somewhere and read a book. A book written by someone who actually has business writing a book. A book that was published by a major publisher.
Unlike you. As of today. Because your steaming pile of paper no longer has a home.
You can try to self-publish it. I’m sure some people will read it out of curiosity…out of the “highway shoulder accident” curiosity that most of us have when we drive past that crunched up Tesla, or that Porsche wrapped around that street light… But you won’t get the kind of global release you thought you were going go get.
And I’m okay with that.
Because you’ve had your chance to tell your stories. And now that chance is done.
If only I had those creepy cartoon kid super powers.