DAMMIT, NOT DIANE! 

I was texting with my friend Shelley about favorite films recently, and she asked a hypothetical question: if you were on your deathbed and you were able to pick ONE movie to watch, the last movie you'd see before shuffling off this mortal coil, what would it be?

For me? Annie Hall. No question.   

"Wonderful, then why don't you get William F. Buckley to kill the spider?"

Then I said, wait....what if it took me a while to kick off and I had some more time to kill (pun intended)? If that were the case, I'd have to add Manhattan. Shelley said that Manhattan was problematic because of the whole Mariel Hemingway thing. I said, well, it's my last day on earth, and unless Mia Farrow is standing at my bedside with a hypodermic full of bleach ready to inject into my jugular, I'm watching Manhattan, too. 

Also co-starring Diane Keaton. 

And I thought, hold on....if I'm watching Manhattan, I am absolutely watching Sleeper. Also with Diane Keaton. (This scene with the bad poetry is one of my favorites. She's brilliant.)

"DAMMIT! I always get that wrong!"

And if I'm throwing in Sleeper, I gotta throw in Love and Death to round it all out. Also? Diane.

Shelley pointed out that if I watched those movies in that order, Annie Hall wouldn't, in fact, be the last movie I ever saw. So I said, okay then, reverse it. I'll do Love and Death, Sleeper, Manhattan, and then Annie Hall.  

But I gotta end with Annie Hall, for sure. It's as close to perfect as a movie gets.

   

R.I.P. Diane. You were a real one, as the kids say.