Match Point.

I like Woody Allen movies. Even when they're not considered his "good ones," I appreciate the Woody Alleness of them. Items that usually appear on his ingredients list: interconnected family members; distinctive soundtrack; ex- and present lovers; New Yorkiness; sometimes throw in a body; recurring actors including my favourites, Alan Alda, Diane Keaton, and Allen himself; and, of course, that font. That comforting, familiar font.

I was told that Match Point (2005) didn't seem like a Woody Allen Movie. I was both intrigued and wary. I was told that not only was Woody not acting in the movie, there was also no other actor in the movie acting like Woody in his stead.

"They" were right. Besides the crackling soundtrack and a couple of sharp, throwaway comments that were casually blurted a frame before a scene change, this had all the wit and sting of a Woody Allen movie without reeking of flop sweat and an analyst couch. And it's set in London! Gasp! (London or New York, it doesn't matter, because Allen knows cities, and their pace.)

In Match Point, Jonathan Rhys Meyers is Chris, and wears many hats. He is introduced as a tennis pro at a posh London sports club. Names are dropped. He's played Agasi. His first student, Tom, introduces Chris to his mother, father, sister, and fiancee. Chris then plays the boyfriend as he and Tom's sister hit it off. Tom's fiancee is Nora; Scarlett Johansson. She's an American. She's a chronically unsuccessful actress. She is luminous. She is loathsome. She is insecure and falling apart, but in a foreign, American way. She's like a crumbling wall held up with a layer of chicken wire. Chris is captivated.

Tom and Nora break off the engagement, but not before she and Chris begin an affair. Chris still marries Tom's sister, and Tom marries another woman. Time moves along surely. Chris' life spirals out of control, and we watch him scramble.

Chris, as a main character, is not open to the audience. Not to say he is inaccessible, but he doesn't invite us into his plans. Usually, there are clues to what a character is thinking, or going to do. Watching Chris is like watching an opaque person in real life, on CCTV: we do not know what he is thinking but can only watch. Sometimes there is a panicked crack in his facade, but usually, we just didn't know. Instead of being put off and alienated by this, I found myself all the more captivated.

So now is Woody Allen protesting pablum movies? I suppose he's never been interested in spoon-feeding his audiences. It's just that this one is particularly tasty. It's no wonder critics were so excited about this Allen offering. It's a Woody Allen movie in the best sense of the meaning: distinctive without being derivative. It's available April 25th on DVD, and prepare to be surprised more than once.