Between jazz concerts and presentation of his latest film, Stroke of luckthe Francophile filmmaker who became a pariah in Hollywood continues to be warmly welcomed in France.
A solitary ostrich walks indifferent to the looks of its fellow ostrich. Further away, parakeets chatter lively, revealing the outlines of a complex love trio. The birds of the Parc des Oiseaux are doing Woody Allen without knowing. THE filmmaker-clarinetist gave a concert at the beginning of September with his jazz band in the zoological park of a quiet town in Ain, Villars-les-Dombes. More precisely, in the open-air theater of this area where fragile species are collected. Even American filmmakers who have become pariahs in their country. He will have benefited of a preview of Stroke of luck in Lyon, at the Institut Lumière, to add the Les Musicales du Parc des Oiseaux festival to his tour.
Woody Allen climbs on stage, hat crooked. The applause bursts out. A “I love you” is launched to the audience made up of curious moviegoers and numerous retirees in combat gear: cropped pants, sandals and backpacks. France, the real one, is here, sandwiches…