Cassandra's Dream |  | Director: Woody Allen
Actors: Colin Farrell, Ewan McGregor, Hayley Atwell, Peter-Hugo Daly, John Benfield
Studio: Weinstein Company
List Price: $14.93
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Rating:  46 reviews
Sales Rank: 9,391
Format: Closed-captioned, Color, Widescreen, NTSC
Language: English (Original Language)
Rating: PG-13 (Parental Guidance Suggested)
Region: 1
Discs: 1
Running Time: 108 Minutes
Shipping Weight (lbs): 0.2
Dimensions (in): 7.1 x 5.4 x 0.6
MPN: 796019810647
UPC: 796019810647
EAN: 0796019810647
ASIN: B0013D8LC2
Theatrical Release Date: 2008
Release Date: May 27, 2008
Availability: Usually ships in 1-2 business days
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Product Description
Studio: Genius Products Inc Release Date: 09/30/2008 Rating: Pg13
Amazon.com
Scottish Ewan McGregor and Irish Colin Farrell play two Cockney brothers who get in over their heads when a wealthy relative asks for a favor. Woody Allen's sleek thriller Cassandra's Dream begins in innocent times: Ian (McGregor) and Terry (Farrell) buy a sailboat and name it Cassandra's Dream. But soon Terry falls afoul of gambling debts and Ian falls head over heels for a sultry actress who doesn't take him seriously, leading them to ask their uncle Howard (Tom Wilkinson) for money, which he's happy to give them--if they'll get rid of a man who's going to testify against him. The first half of Cassandra's Dream zips along with short, concise scenes and charismatic performances by the lead lads. Newcomer Hayley Atwell (Brideshead Revisited) is alluring as the actress, while Sally Hawkins (Persuasion) brings warmth and sympathy to the underwritten role of Terry's girlfriend Kate. The second half--as with many of Allen's later films--seems to run out of steam, though there's still much to admire about Allen's clean, unfussy filmmaking. Regrettably, he seems to have lost the ability to sustain his imaginative spark. The weakness is in the writing; too many of the characters are barely sketched and clumsy lines of dialogue jar the ear in otherwise well-shaped scenes. But just when you're ready to throw up your hands, there's a moment of understated grace, in which Allen's simple visuals capture something with crystalline clarity. Cassandra's Dream is a frustrating movie, but it has its rewards. --Bret Fetzer
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Showing reviews 1-5 of 46
 Good August 26, 2010
Cosmoetica (New York, USA)
The DVD, by Genius LLC, has no features, save a few theatrical trailers of other films. The film's score, by Philip Glass, is hit and miss- as often emotionally leading an audience by the nose as genuinely enhancing the film, a characteristic far too many Glass scores embody. The camera work by longtime Allen collaborator Vilmos Zsigmond is quite good. But, the writing is what sets this film apart from so many other routine `thrillers.' In a sense, Allen's problem with such a film reminds me of a similar problem that German director Werner Herzog had with his recent Vietnam War film, Rescue Dawn. So many critics focused on how its similarity in themes to earlier masterpieces by the director showed the later film up as inferior to the earlier ones that they missed out that the newer films were damned good on their own. Yes, Rescue Dawn is not as good, deep, and poetic as Aguirre: The Wrath Of God, and similarly Cassandra's Dream is not the almost perfectly crafted masterpiece that was Crimes And Misdemeanors, but so what? Both are outstanding films that, shorn of the comparisons, and if directed by artists other than Herzog and Allen, would have drawn unadorned raves. Also, it's helpful to note that the critics who dissed this film are the same folk who dissed the same earlier great Allen films when they came out, but who now hold them up as exemplars, only exemplifying the utter lack of critical acumen this essay's first sentence denotes.
This film also provides a terrific showcase for Colin Farrell to show off his acting chops. Playing against type, he is the weaker of the two brothers, and he is excellent, showing that he is not mere female eye candy, and that turns in stinkers, like Oliver Stone's Alexander, are not the best he can do. Ewan McGregor is good, as usual, as are the girlfriends, Atwell and Hawkins. Wilkinson is solid as the uncle, but the film might have given him a bit more to do. As is, his character is only a plot device to propel the brothers on their journeys, although the fumbling delivery Howard makes, and his digressions on why he won't consider a professional contract, make the scene all the more believable.
But, the film is so rich with great moments that detail character and plot, as mentioned earlier, that the screenplay could be used as an aid in screenwriting classes, for the film does trod over familiar Allen territory, but often with new twists and interesting asides which only deepen the resonance the film has. As example, after Ian meets Angela, he dumps his black girlfriend, Lucy, and a bit later, we see him callously telling his dad how special Angela is, and how much better and classier than any other girl he's dated she is. Lucy hears this, and the reaction she gives subtly lets us know how hurt she is and what an insensitive ass Ian is. There is also a scene where Ian questions Angela's ethic, by asking her if she'd sleep with a director to get a part, and she replies under what conditions she would. Ian, who has far weightier issues to deal with, seems stunned, but Angela puts him in his place by stating she gave the answers, but did not like the question. It's a small moment that shows that, while vain and egocentric, she does have a delineated ethical compass, and a penchant for giving as good as she gets- something many more one dimensional Allen sexpots lack. But, these are only two of a dozen or more such moments that enrich this film beyond mere `thriller' status.
And while Terry and Ian ruminate a bit on ethics they are not the typical Allen eggheads hemmed in by their intellectual prowess and emotional impotence. Their collective naïve-te is actually a bit refreshing, for when they repeat ideas hashed out in earlier Allen films (like the concept of `pushing a button' and someone is dead, borrowed from Crimes And Misdemeanors) or fixate on new ones (such as an addled Terry's claim that `It's always now!'- i.e.- the moment they committed murder) it is always in a different tone- one with more desperation, pathos, or stolidity- than before or expected. Also the fact that Allen, at several points, including the film's ending, seems to let the film settle into a groove that seems predictable, only to pull out the rug from under the viewers' expectations, lets the film maintain a tension and vigor it would otherwise lack. Viewers naturally desire clichés, in an emotional sense, for the comfort, yet when the film resists it the momentary disappointment blossoms into attraction to the storyline's turn from the expected, for manifest clichés invoke an intellectual resistance in a viewer, as well.
All in all, Cassandra's Dream is an outstanding and acidic portrait of family and crime, and one that was shamefully dismissed, when not neglected, by the idiotic elitists that populate the critical consensus that dominates film reviewing. Go against the grain, seek out this film on DVD, and let it work within you as well as on you.
ANOTHER ALLEN MORALITY MOVIE July 11, 2010
Patricia Hemani (PA USA)
In Crimes...the title character learns to live with the death he caused in this one he does not.
 Slick and Engaging But Lacks Emotional Resonance May 4, 2010
Tsuyoshi (Kyoto, Japan)
Ian (Ewan McGregor) and Terry (Colin Farrell) are brothers and they need money desperately for different reasons. Their concerned father (John Benfield), owner of failing restaurant, is of no help. But they have an uncle (Tom Wilkinson), rich, kind, and successful, and the brothers are happy to hear Uncle Howard is about to visit London. However, Uncle Howard has his own problem and asks Ian and Terry to do some favor for him.
What Uncle Howard wants the brothers to do should not be revealed here, but perhaps you have already guessed. Woody Allen's "Cassandra's Dream," which some people compare with Sidney Lumet's "Before the Devil Knows You're Dead" is a kind of crime story that you might expect from the creator of great "Crimes and Misdemeanors." Unfortunately, the characters' moral dilemma in "Cassandra's Dream" looks less convincing and the conclusion more unsatisfactory.
Both Ewan McGregor and Colin Farrell deliver strong performance, though they can hardly look like brothers. The well-acted film has supports from talented players like Sally Hawkins and Hayley Atwell, but their characters remain somewhat underwritten.
Fast-paced "Cassandra's Dream" benefits from Vilmos Zsigmond's photography and Philip Glass's moody score, but I am afraid Allen's Dostoevsky-like crime tale never resonates with audiences in quite the same way as "Match Point" or some of his earlier works.
 From You We Need a Lesson in Morality? February 6, 2010
Yasha Banana
1 out of 8 found this review helpful
Dear Mister Allen,
Woody my boy! Woody my boy! How many times have I, Yasha J. Banana at 96-years-old, the oldest living Amazon movie reviewer; if you call this living), how many times have I told you -- schtupping young gals and then making movies that preach morality -- not for you, boychick. I mean, we all know what happened a few years ago and, not to bring up unpleasant memories, but from *you* we need a morality tale?
I don't think so.
Personally, I like your older movies, the funny ones. Your first one was great "Nem Di Gelt" -- "Take the Money and Run." What a peppy-perky flicker that one was.
But of course my all-time favorite was "Bananas." For weeks people came up to me. "Yash -- what? -- this movie is about your family?" So, what did it hurt, I lied. "Sure," I told them, "from me he got all his material. The little cocker couldn't have done it without me."
Movies about families, now that's what I like. On Broadway I went to see "Cats." I had such high hopes. With all the Jews in show business, I thought it was a story about a family named Katz.
So who knew?
I'm expecting funny lines, like, "What do you call a woman who sleeps with cats?" ... "Mrs. Katz."
Instead I get a bunch of crazy people running around on stage. Jumping, spinning, tumbling, spritzing. The chorus boys had costumes on that were so tight I not only could tell who was circumcised and who wasn't, I had a good idea whose pediatrician was named "Lefty."
And the girls. Hoy boy! The tukases on those girls were so tight you could bounce silver dollars off them. Which I would have gladly done, even though I'm on a fixed income.
All that running around and carrying on. Jumping from furniture, crashing into walls. I got *such* a headache; you wouldn't wish it on an Arab. Cats jumping on each other, cats running over fences, cats making dates. And, trust me, there were homosexual cats on that stage, believe me.
Not that I make judgments, mind you. A person wants to be a faygala, he should live and be happy. I make no pronouncements.
But all those noisy, jumping cats. It was too much. I had a cat in my apartment once. Ran all over the place. Drove me crazy. So I took him to the vet, got him fixed. After that -- didn't make a sound, hardly moved at all. All he did all day long was stare at me. The quiet I liked, but the guilt, oy vey, it was awful. After a while I gave him to the Italians across the hall and asked them to drown him.
But anyway, what do you care about my cat? Back to you and your career, Woody; if I may. ...
Personally, I, Yasha J. Banana -- nonagenarian, hat blocker, and one-time towel boy at Plato's Retreat -- I categorize your movies into two groups: "Whine-Whine-Whine," and "Preach-Preach-Preach." The thing is, preaching is easy; also, not to embarrass you but, as previously noted, in your case it's rather inappropriate, don't 'cha think? Whining, on the other hand, now there's where you excel! Such whining in your movies I never heard in my life. Then again there was my second wife, but let's not dwell.
Believe me, that's your bread and butter, boychick -- whining. That's what pays the electricity bill. That's what puts the Manischevitz on the table.
But in this flicker, "Cassandra's Dream," I didn't hear any whining at all. Not a peep. Not a titter. ...
Tits. ...
That reminds me of that runaway titter in the movie you made way back when, "Everything You Wanted To Know About Sex But Who Knew Already?" Now that was funny. I laughed so hard I wet my pants. Which nowadays is the highlight of my day.
A giant runaway tit. Reminded me of my fourth wife. Big gal. But cold as a witch's you-know-whats. And I'm talking cold. After we left our honeymoon suite they renamed the waterbed "The Dead Sea."
(Right after Henny Youngman checked out.)
Big, what am I saying? She was FAT! Boy, was she fat!
... She was so fat she used to sing, dance and do total eclipses.
... She was so fat in case of enemy attack, she immediately went into combat as a hay silo.
... She was so fat she made Orson Welles look like a mere slip of a lad.
... She was so fat, you know that song "Shake Your Booty" -- when she shook her booty the entire Mormon Tabernacle Choir had a premature ejaculation.
Fat, lemme tell you fat. For the first six months of our marriage I thought I was having intercourse with her, until I realized I was schtupping one of her folds.
But nowadays, sex, forget about it. At 96-years-old, who can bother? A few years ago though I met a beautiful young woman. She cooked for me, she kept house for me and she made mad, passionate love with me. Then I went out for a newspaper and forgot where I lived.
(Ba-da-bing-bing!)
So look, anyway, back to your facockta movie. What's it about -- that crime doesn't pay? Are you serious? You've notified the ganefs on Wall Street about this? George Bush has taken this advice to heart, has he?
Nothing personal, boychick, but morality tales from you I find hard to accept. From Mother Theresa a morality tale would be a big hit. From Francis of Assisi, as far as I'm concerned, that goy can preach until the cows come home. Even John-Boy on "The Waltons," what a philosopher. But you, Woody? Come on, be serious. Your preaching morality would be like Jesse James checking my brother-in-law's books.
Anyway, listen, who am I to throw stones? Personally, I've been married five times. But never to someone I had to help with her homework already.
(Ba-da, bing-bing!)
Okay, so I stole that joke from George Burns. What's he gonna do, rise from the dead and sue me?
Meanwhile, back to "Cassandra's Dream." If I may. ...
I mean, I don't get it, in the whole movie I'm waiting for some shiksa named Cassandra to show up, but where is she already? I missed her when I went out to take a pee? Listen, I'm entitled, if you had a prostate like mine, as big as a Spaulding basketball, you'd be writing and directing from the toilet, Mister Big Shot Feency-Schmeency Hollywood Maven.
Frankly, I've had it with you, Woody Allen! I'd didn't want to mention this but you stole my act. I'm speaking a factual truth now. When I was a young fellow, I was a nebbish, too. And a much bigger one than you, believe me. And did I make a nickel from it? No sir! No-sir-no-sir-NO-SIR! All that cocking around you do, and from that you make a living? From that they pay you millions? When I was a nebbish, I made peanuts. I was a "'mon back." I stood in back of a truck and said: "'mon back, `mon back."
Okay, so I stole that joke from you. Who stole it from Henny Youngman. Who stole it from Milton Berle. Who stole it from Jimmy Hoffa. So you'll serve a paper and ~ sue me ~ sue me ~ what can you do me? ~ Give a holler and hate me ~ hate me ~ go `head and hate me.~
You like my singing voice? I'm available, you know. You cast your next movie and you're maybe looking for a 96-year-old talent, I'm your man. I sing, I dance, I tell jokes. And if there are any dead spots in your next script, I'm no Danny Kaye but I'm a pretty good tummler. Peppy, perky -- I used to be a big hit in the lobby at Grossinger's waiting for a room. I had all the widows in stitches. Knock-knock jokes coming out of my ears.
So if you need me for your next movie, all kidding aside, I'd be honored.
Now, as for my terms. ...
1.) Naturally, I'll need a dressing room. Not too big; but not too small either. I may have shrunk but I'm no Billy Barty.
2.) An autographed picture of Steve Guttenberg. (For my niece, Tiffany Banana.)
3.) I'll need at least two young, nubile personal assistants to help me memorize my lines, assist me in finding my way to my hotel room and keep me from falling asleep.
4.) A wheel barrel full of Viagra. See term #3.
5.) A little gelt. Preferably in cash.
6.) A top-notch makeup artist. Your makeup person knows what they're doing? Because for me makeup may take longer than Mel Gibson's speech before B'nai B'rith.
7.) Air-conditioning. Indoors and out.
8.) In the morning I'd like a bagel, a cup tea and a nice piece cake. And not from the store either!
9.) A scene where I'm with some hot chick, preferably a shiksa, where she's standing on a mirror.
10.) An optometrist.
11.) Chicken soup. And lots of it, you little cocker!
Assuming you can meet these demands, and assuming you hire Jews, just say the word and I can be on the set quicker than you can say "Mama Mia!"
Your pal,
Yash
rather dark. why did I watch this. December 15, 2009
Rockbassethound (southern california)
0 out of 2 found this review helpful
I like a lot of WA's movies. This one, however, is not a favorite. I got to the end of it and had to wonder why I just spent that time watching a big, stressful downer. That's just me though. Lovers of suspense films may like it. Very well acted and directed. It's just that I personally usually avoid trying to entertain myself by watching people suffer.
Showing reviews 1-5 of 46
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