Anthology Breakdown: New York, I Love You

Following the critical success of Paris, je t’aime, producer Emmanuel Benbihy elected to take his Cities of Love series to the Big Apple. And, soon after New York, I Love You was released, many were left wondering if Benbihy was meant to end his series with just one film. Yes, admittedly, this New York installment is nowhere near as accomplished as its predecessor, but upon rewatching it recently, I found myself taken with more than a handful of its segments.

In his initial review for New York, I Love You, Roger Ebert said that anthology films can never add up. They are the sum of their parts. If one segment is working for you, wait for a few minutes, and on to the next one. Precisely.

Segment One

Dir. by Jiang Wen

This breezy, uninvolved opener begins with a hipster pickpocket (Hayden Christensen… by the way, what happened to that guy?) pulling the wallet of a passerby (Andy Garcia). Soon, the thief has his eye on a lovely young dame (Rachel Bilson… by the why, what happened to that gal?). He follows her into a bar, spins some weak game, and is quickly interrupted by Garcia, who appears to be onto the hipster (or… something.) And that’s it. Needlessly drowned out in oversaturated orange hues, this segment is benefited by some David Mamet-esque chatter, but doesn't particularly add anything to anything. C-

Segment Two

Dir. by Mira Nair

A Hasidic jeweler (Natalie Portman) rushes into the store of a friendly Indian diamond merchant (Irrfan Khan) and the two enter into a quick exchange of goods. But soon, they’re complaining about the dedication of their respective religions, while mocking a few others. And then suddenly, with only the cue of a few rather marvelous little glances, the man comes to respect the woman’s situation, and they end their conversation in immense understanding. This segment cunningly shows how, sometimes, a person who enters our life for mere seconds really can leave an impact. B

Segment Three

Dir. by Shunji Iwai

A crusty film composer (Orlando Bloom) is struggling to finish his latest job because the film’s director is demanding that he read Dostoevsky for inspiration. Feeling under pressure, the composer seeks the director’s assistant (Christina Ricci) for solace over the phone. A tender little romance develops, resulting in a perfectly fitting conclusion. Not exactly weighty, but amusing nonetheless. B

Segment Four

Dir. Yvan Attal

Two strangers stand outside of a restaurant smoking and minding their own business. Before long, the guy (Ethan Hawke) gets up the courage to approach the woman (Maggie Q) and he begins an extended, increasingly inappropriate come-on which results in him explaining in vivid detail how he could get her off. She smiles, smokes and plays along to a point, until she delivers a bit of news that humorously stops him dead. Again, like most of the segments in New York, I Love You, this one isn’t particularly equipped with much depth, but Hawke’s final, stunned line delivery is priceless. B

Segment Five

Dir. by Brett Ratner

Dumped days before the prom, a kindhearted young kid (Anton Yelchin) is told by his pharmacist (played by James Caan, who gets to say things like, “She’s a snake fuckin’ devil whore”) that the kid can take the pharmacist’s attractive daughter to the big dance. The kid arrives via limo for his date and, much to his dismay, the daughter (Olivia Thirlby) is confined to a wheelchair. I say “dismay” because few could destroy a six-minute short as quickly and as tastelessly as Brett Ratner. Given the talent involved (Blake Lively cameos as the ex girlfriend), this segment could’ve been immeasurably better, and far more sophisticated. D

Segment Six

Dir. by Allen Hughes

By far the highlight of the film, this segment cross cuts two thirtysomethings making their way… somewhere. A woman riding on the subway (Drea de Matteo) narrates the events of the night before, as a man (Bradley Cooper) does the same while walking. It becomes evident that they are both en route to see each other after a very steamy one night stand. Their separate, inner dialogues (as written by Xan Cassavetes & Stephen Winter) are simply perfect. The regret, the anxiousness, the excitement, the nerves – it’s all staged perfectly as the would-be lovers get closer to one another. I won’t say how the segment ends, but it certainly isn’t to the disappointment of the viewer. A+

Segment Seven

Dir. by Shekhar Kapur

I’d be lying if I said I completely understood everything going on in this segment, but its delicate mystery is arguably the most intriguing part of the entire film. A woman (Julie Christie) staying in a seemingly abandoned hotel is helped to her room by a handicapped bellhop (Shia LaBeouf). She asks for violets, and he soon returns with some. He suffers a sudden, violent nosebleed, and then things get a bit strange. Instead of continuing a play by play, it’d be best to explore this meditative, translucent segment for yourself. Because really, what’s it all about? A-

Segment Eight

Dir. by Natalie Portman

A father enjoys an afternoon in Central Park with his daughter, who, we gather, he doesn’t get to see too often. In a simple but wholly effective little touch, the man (who is Cuban) is mistaken for being a male nanny to his pale-skinned daughter. That isn’t what the segment is about, per se, but it’s a flawless moment that encapsulates a father’s pain. When the girl is reunited with her mother, it becomes all too clear which film Portman is playing off of. B+

Segment Nine

Dir. by Fatih Akin

A hard living and creatively deprived painter gets inspired to paint a local tea herbalist. She initially says no, but the intrigue of the proposition dominates her mind. She attempts to seek the painter out but finds that he has carried out his inspiration without her. Given the immense talent of the man who helmed this segment, it’s a damn shame it isn’t more memorable. C

Segment Ten

Dir. by Yvan Attal

Similar to Attal’s earlier segment, this one begins with two strangers (Chris Cooper, Robin Wright) standing outside a restaurant, talking and smoking. She discusses the excitement of one night stands, and quietly explains her assumed disappointment at returning inside to sit with her husband. The man is interested to say the least, and before the woman walks back inside, she teases him with a notion of maybe meeting again. Maybe. (Props for the segment’s perfect inclusion of Radiohead’s “No Surprises.”) A

Segment Eleven

Dir. by Joshua Marston

An old married couple (Eli Wallach, Cloris Leachman, both better here than they’ve been in years) celebrate their anniversary by embarking on a walking journey to Coney Island. They shuffle about, bicker ceaselessly, climb stairs at a snail’s pace, and, upon arriving, share as tender and reflective a moment as can be found in this film. Marston thankfully holds that moment for several beats, before it is cut short in appropriately New York fashion.  New York, I Love You certainly doesn’t match the charm and wit of Paris, je t’aime, but it’s nice to go out while watching two old pros at the top of their game. A+

Previous installments of Anthology Breakdown include:

The Hire

Paris je t’aime
Coffee and Cigarettes