

Sleeper
Director : Woody Allen
USA, 1973
Sleeper was originally conceived as a modern silent film, in which the inhabitants of the future are forbidden from talking. The studio didn't fancy that much, so Allen instead turned Sleeper into a tribute to cinema past; Chaplin, Keaton, Laurel & Hardy, the Marx Brothers. Woody is a recognisable film icon by this time, and his opening appearance takes full advantage. The film begins with conversations and movements of other characters, building our anticipation of Woody's entrance. A body is awaiting reanimation after being cryogenically frozen, and we are told that he was a clarinet player and the owner of a health food restaurant called 'The Happy Carrot'. Already we can piece together that this is Woody's entrance; he is in real life a clarinet player, and the choice of health food restaurant already puts us in mind of his neurotic film persona. The body is still covered over with tinfoil, which is slowly peeled back to reveal the famous glasses. Woody will now steal the show without saying a word, putting on a silly expression and wandering around semi-conscious causing chaos. The seriousness of an impromptu visit from security is played off against Woody staggering around, pushing food into people's faces and turning circles in a wheelchair in the middle of the tense conversation.

The dystopian future setting allows plenty more opportunity for juxtaposing the deadly serious with the farcical. A doctor asks Woody to assist in identifying various artefacts they have recovered from the 20th century (he identifies Charles De Gaulle as a famous French chef and Bela Lugosi as the mayor of New York City) which ends with the placing of a pair of clockwork chattering teeth onto the desk. None of these scenes are better than the appearances of Rags, a robotic dog awarded to our hero when he is being rehabilitated into society. Its attempts to subdue a kidnap attempt from the underground is right up there with Chaplin's lunch machine from Modern Times in its ability to reduce me to tears of laughter every time.
Much of Sleeper is a riot of timeless physical and visual comedy and silly one-liners, along with a few references to contemporary 1973 society which don't travel so well down the years. It's the small touches that make all the difference; the jewish tailors, the gay robot butler, the giant chicken. Some pieces feel inserted, a sketch placing Woody as Miss Montana doesn't work quite so well, but a sketch where Allen plays Blanche Dubois to Keaton's Marlon Brando as Stanley Kowalski does. My favourite recurring gag is the government troops with the rocket launcher.

I've heard it commented that in 1973 Woody Allen is still just a slapstick comedian, and that cinematography was not even a concern for him for another few years. A quick glance at the image above tells you that is clearly not true. Sets and costumes are stunning, from the little light-up bubble cars, to the way-out dress of Luna's friends, and most obviously of all in the silhouette scene. Allen and Keaton are silhouetted behind the middle of three screen panels, discussing what to do next. They break apart to each occupy the end panels and then reunite in the left. It's a moment of real art cinema.

Towards the end the laughs move around to domestic squabbling between Allen and Keaton, who emerges as equally talented in the slapstick stakes. Her empty-headed histrionics give way to a sweet double-act as they find themselves in the operating theatre tasked with cloning the dead leader from his nose. She puts in a fair bit of physical comedy too, letting go of the wrong end of a bow in the forest and drowning herself in tape during yet another botched part of the mission. The pair had already separated by this stage, which conversely led into the golden era of their screen partnership. There's an easy camaraderie between them, like a pair glad to remember the fun parts of a relationship without the pressure of everyday lives and tensions.

Sleeper is one of those special films that makes you feel like you belong to a club the more times that you watch it. On first viewing the volume of jokes is almost overwhelming, you're not sure whether you should be paying attention to the physical humour, the one-liners or the serious plot stuff (such as there is). Repeat viewings help you bring out all of these aspects and really fall in love with the film.
