Amazingly, upon a second viewing I didn’t care for Woody Allen’s Manhattan nearly as much as I remembered. Perhaps its status in the canon has retroactively enhanced my opinion. But it still inspires as a big, fat, sloppy kiss to my city, and a poster of Woody & Diane beneath the Brooklyn Bridge hangs on my wall.
Explicit in more ways than one: surprisingly, the theme is pretty much spelled out in voiceover in the first sequence. A man reflects on a past relationship in terms of concerts they went to together and the arc of their sexual life. I can only speak for myself, but those are exactly the kinds of mental landmarks that mark my past relationships.
Utterly gorgeous collaboration between Dave McKean and Neil Gaiman, who are so good together that I admit to a little disappointment when they work apart.
I especially recommend reading the screenplay; one of the few scripts I’ve ever read that stands on its own.