The magical conceit is that the movie ends up escaping into
Cecilia’s world when minor character Tom Baxter (Jeff Daniels) takes notice of
the woman who keeps coming to see his movie and decides to step off the screen
to be with her. The brilliance of the conceit is that there is no question
about whether or not this is Cecilia’s fantasy; it is not and we see the
hilarious ways the film’s other characters (who, we are told, are not human),
producers, and audiences deal with Baxter’s strange leap. Meanwhile, the
character expects the real world to function as smoothly as the movies. He’s
baffled when he tries to escape from a restaurant where he tried to pay for
dinner with phony movie money by getting behind the wheel of a random car that
does not automatically start up as soon as he presses the gas.
This is basically Woody Allen’s take on the popular eighties
trope of an alien falling in love with a normal person (see Starman, Splash, E.T., etc.), and
it plays out with the director’s signature pathos, humor, and honesty—he may love those old Hollywood movies as much as Cecilia does, but like her he ultimately refuses to accept escapism as a viable way to live. Yet it is Farrow who truly sells the conceit with Cecilia’s
wide-eyed openness, infectious love of the movies, and underlying sadness. Annie Hall may be Allen’s best movie,
and Bananas may be his funniest, but The Purple Rose of Cairo is my favorite.
It comes to blu-ray from Twilight Time, though the film’s soft, sepia aesthetic
is not the greatest for showcasing the wonders of hi-def. Still, the disc looks
true to the film and is only occasionally invaded by a white speck or two. As
usual for Twilight Time, there is an isolated music score track, and as usual
for a Woody Allen home video, there are no other extras.
Get The Purple Rose of
Cairo blu-ray on Screen Archives.com here.
