Excerpt:
Woody: The Biography
by David Evanier

The first biography of the award-winning writer and director in twenty years, by the bestselling author of Making the Wiseguys Weep.

Director of over forty-five movies, playwright, writer, actor, and jazz clarinetist, Woody Allen is one of the great artistic polymaths of our time. From Sleeper to Annie Hallto Midnight in Paris, his films embody a sensibility that’s unmistakably his. In this first biography of Allen in over a decade, David Evanier discusses key movies and Allen’s scandalous romantic entanglements. Evanier has spoken to artistic collaborators, family, and friends, including Allen’s first wife, Harlene Rosen, who hasn't commented about Allen since the end of their marriage in the 1960s.

Often romantically involved with actresses he also directed—including Diane Keaton and Mia Farrow—Allen keeps a very private life while pursuing the most public of careers. His affair with Farrow’s daughter SoonYi turned into a lasting marriage, but he continues to make headlines for his unconventional—some say criminal—relationship with Farrow’s other children. Evanier reports, untangling fact from public censure and connecting events to Allen’s movies, his fascination with moral parsing, and his unquestioned sexual relationships with young women.

Evanier’s biography tackles the themes that Allen has spent a lifetime sorting through in art: morality, sexuality, Judaism, the eternal struggle of head and heart. Woody will be the definitive word on a major American talent as he begins his ninth decade, and his sixth decade of making movies.

INTRODUCTION: HOW I GOT TO WOODY

I rang his doorbell.

I’d been told by a friend of his that he never looked at his mail. Whether that was true or not, I wanted to be sure he knew I was writing a biography of him and that I had some questions for him. So I wrote him a letter and took it to his house.

A pleasant-looking fellow peered down and checked me out from an upper story. “I have a letter for Mr. Allen,” I said. “Hold on,” he said, and a moment later opened the door. He smiled, took the letter from my hand, and said, “Perfect.”

I was in. Well, not really. I got to Allen and I didn’t get to him.

In my letter I had introduced myself and told Allen that I had already interviewed Jack Rollins, his longtime manager; as well as the fi lm critics John Simon, Annette Insdorf, and Richard Schickel; the former banjoist in his band, Cynthia Sayer; and Sid Weedman, who had seen Woody in his early days when he wrote and performed at the Tamiment resort in the Poconos. I also said that I considered Crimes and Misdemeanors and Zelig to be his masterpieces.

I received an e- mail from Woody the following day. (He allegedly does not use e-mail, so I assume he dictated his letter to his assistant, Gini.)

Since then I have had a limited back-and-forth correspondence with Allen. He has picked the questions he chooses to answer, but he has been unfailingly courteous…

ENCHANTMENT WAS THE REASON

In Woody’s first e- mail to me, he wrote the following:

September 10, 2013

Dear Mr. Evanier:

Here is the problem and please don’t in any way take this personally. While I have great respect for authors and journalists in general I have had too many experiences with ones I never should have trusted and there is no way for me to feel any security about your project. You can understand that I have but your description of your intentions and while they [may] be 100% honorable there is no way I can verify that. I have no doubts about your qualifications and your resume but beyond that there is no guarantee that yet another book about me would serve any constructive purpose. All the facts about my life have been written about and rewritten about and my work has been dissected in books and articles all over the world for years.

Just a few bits of information in your letter make me wonder. For example. . . Jack Rollins who is in his mid 90s and I know from talking to him myself, extremely shaky on events. His daughter Susan was a very young child in the years that Jack and I were working so closely together. I never heard of or at least can’t remember Sid Weedman. Cynthia Sayer I know only passingly as for a time she played in our jazz band where I had no personal contact with her whatsoever and John Simon who I can respect has never liked my work at all— and this is just the little sampling you included in your note. Richard Schickel and Annette Insdorf on the other hand have been very supportive but Schickel has written about me and done a television special on my work and has said it all before. In addition to this your project was undertaken without ever asking if it is something that I wanted done and you can imagine that would make one quite suspicious. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not suggesting anything wrong here, only explaining to you why one might feel reluctant to participate. These are my feelings on the matter at the moment but I am open minded and if you had an argument that made more sense than mine I am certainly willing to hear it. I don’t mean in any way to be difficult or obstructionist but decades of experience have made me very wary. I might also add your notion that Crimes and Misdemeanors and Zelig are my two masterpieces when neither is a masterpiece nor are either even the best films I have done worries me. It makes me wonder if I would consider, even if flattering, your takes on my films to just be more wrong- headed appraisals and would not add anything to the cultural landscape. If I am wrong about all of the above tell me what I am missing?

Sincerely,

Woody Allen

I answered Allen’s letter on September 17.

Dear Woody Allen,

I’m asking you to take a gamble on this. . . . I want this book, which will come out just about the same time as your birthday, to be an accurate and insightful portrait of the filmmaker I most admire. I can’t and won’t pigeonhole your creativity. I won’t attempt to reduce your story to specific events or moments. An artistic gift is inexplicable, as I believe you have said yourself in different ways. I understand that trying to connect the dots of biographical facts about you is pointless. . . .

Excerpt:Woody: The Biographyby David Evanier